Though Tora and Poppi found themselves walking the streets of Al Mamoon to an unknown location yet again, the change in situation really made all the difference. Moving at a leisurely amble rather than a single-minded sprint was a palpable relief, and needing to neither keep tail a fast-moving guide nor be wary of attack around every corner really allowed the pair to soak up the city’s many details for the first time since they originally left the train station this morning. Although Al Mamoon’s walls and buildings shot down any hope of witnessing a desert sunset, its vibrant rays sent long shadows creeping across the merchant stalls and avenues. Just as it had in the sugary vales surrounding Parnasse the night before, the desert heat was loosening its grasp. It was the end of a long and tiresome day.
That said, the day winding down did not mean that Al Mamoon’s people followed suit. In fact, with much of the populace still out and about long after rush hour ended, nightfall really just meant a new beginning. Thousands of citizens, hungry, thirsty, and tired from their long days of work, shared Tora’s desires. Many chose to spend their evenings at home, making the most of their previously-bought groceries and going about their business in private, but so many went back out into Al Mamoon’s streets that the city buzzed with activity. To Tora and Poppi, a pair from a world where even the biggest cities paled in comparison to a place like this, it made for a fascinating spectacle. Such was the variety and vitality of Validar’s desert flower that it would have been tempting to just sink into a bench and just watch it all go by, if not for the powerful impetus provided by the chance of a free dinner.
Having spent a considerable amount of time in Al Mamoon (at least, for longer than any of the others present), Raz took it upon himself to act as a tour guide for them, pointing at seemingly innocuous buildings they passed or people milling around and doling out some trivia on them. “Oh, and I wouldn’t go to the markets at this time of night,” he finished off with, “not because you’ll get mugged, but because the merchants tend to really raise the prices once the sun goes down. I think they said because only the ‘bravest of browsers’ would show up this late? Since you’ll also totally get mugged there.”
And despite Mao's own time spent in Al Mamoon long before the Seekers had arrived, he still felt unfamiliar in the desert city. What was the small period of time in a place like this, compared to over thirteen-hundred years of school life as an honor student back home? Perhaps he owed what familiarity he did have with it to Galeem's influence, in a way. It'd all seemed normal, but having his first peaceful opportunity to think with a free mind made him truly realize how out of his element he felt. He cautiously watched the individuals passing by their small posse, noticing eyes in the darker corners looking at his new piece of jewelry. Not wanting to have to start a fight a mere day before getting this business with the Resistance sorted, Mao brought his hood over his head in hopes of deterring those who'd get any bright ideas.
As Sora walked behind Tora and Poppi, his thoughts were mainly on the upcoming meal. He couldn't remember the last time he ate. He wondered if he'd see Little Chef again. It'd been fun helping the intelligent rat, who could somehow take control of his body from him through his hair, create new and delicious meals from random ingredients he'd found during his travels. His step faltered as his stomach growled. "Guess I'm hungrier than I thought," he chuckled softly, rubbing his belly.
At length, Goldlewis came to a stop in front of a building like any other, except for the vivid neon lights on the windows, and the row of motorcycles hitched outside. “Here we are,” the big man announced, his eyes paused on the star-spangled banner softly flapping on a prominent pole by the sign. “It’s a bar an’ grill, with more burgers an’ hot dogs than you shake a stick at. It’s called the Spread Eagle, an’ it’s even got the ol’ red, white, an’ blue. Now ain’t that patriotic?” He looked oddly proud, although a little oblivious at the same time, not that Tora caught on.
“God bless America.” Jesse said with convincing vigor, though there was a teasing note in her voice.
Mao snickered beneath his hood, Jesse's words making him think of the Celestial realm. If only these poor human saps actually knew what 'God' was really like.
Sora tilted his head in confusion. "What's America?" During his travels, he'd never heard of it. A few of those present had an answer for him, but Sectonia cut in before anyone could shed some light on the word.
”So this is the best this place has to offer? An establishment that serves sausages? Do you know what goes into those? Although admittedly hamburgers are new.” Sectonia said, offended at the mention of hot dogs.
”So does your country eat Waddle Dees?”Looking confused and a little put off, Goldlewis admitted, “Well, there’s better places. I just like this one.” He wondered if the big bug would be able to fit through the doorway, which being made for humans could only barely accommodate himself. “No, dunno what those are,” he mentioned in regard to the creature Sectonia mentioned.
Sora just became more confused. "Will somebody explain this stuff to me? What's a hot dog? What's a hamburger? What's a Waddle Dee?" He sighed in frustration. "I wish Jiminy was here."
“It’d be easier for you to see them for yourself,” Raz answered. “I know I’d dig into a few dogs myself. Back home, we were always able to sneak a few concessions between shows. Even after Dion threw up once when we did the Flying Waterwheel because he ended up eating a few old ones. That’s a lesson you only have to learn once.”
”Hm...” Sectonia said, thinking about even going into this establishment. If it was well kept she wasn’t wholly against it, but if it was grungy she was going to find somewhere else to eat. Although even she showed concern about the building. Fitting through the door wasn’t that big of an issue if she could blink, but did the interior even have enough space without her having to touch the walls or ceiling or anything .Especially the latter, as she highly doubted it was made of marble or anything easily cleaned, or ever got cleaned in the first place.
”Waddle Dees are this common variety walking ball thing the surface world of Popstar used as servants, however they are plentiful and you can find varieties that grow to be even bigger than myself and harvest them for meat. They aren't the smartest things around, and the larger ones are even dumber than that. But they have zero flavor.” Sectonia said.
“Uh huh…” Goldlewis replied noncommittally, wondering if he should have phrased his previous, incurious response better. /he turned his focus to Sora, holding up his hand in mock surrender. Whoa there, pardner! No need to get impatient. You’ll see soon enough.”
A perimeter fence made partially of large flower boxes surrounded the place’s outdoor eating area, where a couple patrons in green fold-out chairs chatted at square tables. As the group passed through to enter, with Poppi stepping up to hold the door for the rest, Goldlewis lingered a moment longer. Even with one eye veiled beneath the darkened lens of his glasses, he’d spotted something odd not too far from the front door, hidden in the shadows of a bright blue
vending machine. Judging by its barely-visible contours, overall smoothness, and curvature, it could only be a figure in a dark robe, silently spying on the Seekers as they approached. Instantly on alert thanks to the war veteran’s instincts, Goldlewis ponderously knelt down as if to tie his shoe. “Y’all go on ahead a moment,” he assured the rest. “I just need to…
hah!”
Having couched his legs like a track runner, the huge man sprang forward. Like a train in the night his giant mitt pierced through the darkness and disappeared inside the hood of the unknown watcher, seizing whoever it was by the neck. “Gotcha!” Goldlewis crowed. “Now, let’s see who we’re dealin’ with.” Holding tight, he pulled the stranger out of the concealing shadows and into the porch’s incandescence where everyone could see.
Upon seeing the coat, Sora immediately summoned his keyblade and took a fighting stance. "Organization 13!"
Instantly Goldlewis’ face lit up in recognition at the adorably squishy face that peered out from his grasp in mixed confusion and mild alarm. His eyes widened and his brows went up as he tried to find his words. “You! You’re the...that girl! The one who declared war on the whole doggone world an’ ended up with Illyria!” He released her in a hurry and stepped back, allowing her to straighten herself. Apparently she’d been wearing that white hat of hers beneath the hood of her black coat, and as she both straightened her cap and fluffed out her pale blonde hair, Tora could see that she possessed quite the cute face, as well as an intriguing pair of bright, bronze-colored eyes. More striking was the fact that, once allowed to stand on her own again, she floated just above the ground, her tiptoes barely grazing it.
"Wait, she's not with Organization 13?" the keybearer asked, his weapon dropping a bit.
Goldlewis wasn’t the only trained government agent among them, even if the young psychic didn’t look like it. Once the big man sprung into action Raz followed suit, pressing a finger to the side of his helmet, at his temple, and extending his other hand outward, ready to blast this world-war-declaring woman should she make a move.
"You know her?" Mao quizzed, hand drifting closely to his weapon out of caution. He wasn't particularly nailing her down as the war-mongering type, especially for a place like this, but he knew doubting the abilities of individuals, human in appearance or not, had gotten him pretty injured over the last few hours.
“Not personally. Wasn’t really my country that dealt with ‘er,” the veteran told him before addressing the girl again. “Pardon me I don’t mean to be rude or anythin’. Lemme start again.” He cleared his throat and offered his hand. “The name’s Goldlewis Dickinson.”
“You can call me Ram,” the stranger told her captor after a moment, rather unfazed by the unexpected grab despite the sheer size of its perpetrator. She glanced at his giant mitt without any trace of either curiosity or hostility, and did not accept it.
Goldlewis was not quite so nonchalant about the whole affair, but did not force the shake. “R-right, uh, sorry, miss.” He rubbed his head, embarrassed in front of his new acquaintances by his paranoia. “Force of habit, see. What...ah, what are ya doin’ here, if you don’t mind me askin?”
A moment slid by, Ram’s face blank, before she replied. “...Burger.”
“Pardon?” The Secretary of Absolute Defense raised an eyebrow.
Ram crossed her arms. Her left arm, at least what could be seen beyond her dark sleeve, seemed to be totally bound in dark red straps. “I wanted a burger.”
Not expecting such a mundane answer from such an important individual, Goldlewis offered the small woman a tentative smile. “Well then, why don’cha come with us? We were just fixin’ t’eat, too. And we’re due a free meal. Least I can do after spookin’ ya like that.”
Jesse nodded in greeting towards Ramlethal. “Hi, I’m Jesse.”
Not quite as sheepish as Goldlewis, Raz returned to a normal, non-combative stance. “Ram? Well, I’m Raz. So I guess you can say that we’re pretty similar! Since, you know, our names are close, except for the one…” Okay,
now he seemed pretty sheepish. He cleared his throat. “A-anyways, yeah, I’m sure we can get you a burger too.”
“Hello, am Tora! More friends make food taste better, meh!” Tora announced. Sora agreed with a big smile and a thumbs up.
Ram nodded, still impassive, and agreed. “Okay.”
Mao shrugged his shoulders, seeming to lack belief in Tora’s statement.
”Guess our party just got bigger.” Once Ram joined the group, gliding into their midst, the party of eight proceeded inside.
Passing through the doorway from the sunset sandstone of the desert city’s streets and into Spread Eagle’s interior felt like stepping through a portal to another world. In an instant the prospective diners were surrounded by aged wood, from the walls to the floors to the furniture, and beset on all sides by quaint sentimentality. Framed black-and-white photos, newspaper articles, and ads hung alongside the neon signs that called back to a bygone age in a tapestry of commemoration. Here and there hung sat various household items and keepsakes, odds and ends that surely mattered to someone at some point, but now merely contributed to the homely, casual atmosphere. A pool table sat atop a rug in front of the bar, currently in use by a
tattooed biker and a tougher-looking,
white-bearded hillbilly, the calculated clacks of their cues against the pools balls interspersing the murmur of chatter that pervaded the place. Most of the patrons looked like
regular humans, albeit with green diamonds floating above their hands, and any shreds of conversation that reached the visitors proved to be utterly unintelligible nonsense. The rest were
odd bikers, who seemed more like caricatures than real people. It was hard to imagine that the fireplace sitting along one wall would see any use in a town like this. To anyone with even a passing familiarity with America’s more rural regions, Spread Eagle might as well have been Everybar in Anytown, USA. And Goldlewis looked right at home.
“Well, this is nostalgic. But it’s odd to see something like this outside of the US. Feels like a movie set, or a themed restaurant in Europe.” Jesse said, peering around. And also, she thought, the Sims are here.
“Are those people being mind-controlled, too?” Raz pointed at the collection of Sims, what with their incoherent babble amongst each other and the presence of a glowing diamond above each of their heads, all in a different shade of green, yellow, or red.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure they’re just like that.” Jesse dismissed the issue.
Sectonia found that, yes, the door was too small for her; that was obvious from the outset though. However when she looked into the restaurant, she found that its interior was also too small for her size and would be incredibly uncomfortable to squeeze into with her blink. Thinking, Sectonia summoned an ice antlion telling it to ‘have fun with the minions and make sure they act proper’’ before informing everyone that, seeing as she couldn’t fit into the building, she would go to the spa instead.
There was nobody waiting to seat the new arrivals, and none of the customers really paid them any mind, so they all just followed Goldlewis to an empty table. After seating themselves and a few moments’ wait, an
orange catman came over to drop off menus. Although he looked just a little on edge, like someone haunted by his past, he looked otherwise pretty chill. “Hey, welcome to Spread Eagle,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute with some waters. When you’re ready to order just wave me over.”
Raz let out a nervous chuckle. “Ahaha, no water for me, thanks. Just a soda.”
Mao was quick to eye the menu, holding it up with one hand as his head rested in his free palm. Nothing he was unfamiliar with, exactly, but the idea of hotdogs did amuse him. It made him think of a few individuals from his past,
pig-like orclings, a trio of them called the Vato Brothers. If they saw this, they'd probably squeal in horror! That was enough reason for him to possibly sample the different selections, on top of some of their options having more than the usual hot sauce topping he would pour onto anything.
"Chili-cheese, relish and chopped onion... What the hell is sauerkraut?"" He muttered under his breath, quickly disregarding his confusion as he concluded that he'd just have to use the scientific method and potentially sample their variety. Not like he couldn't pack it away, Tora's scrawny comment from earlier still fueling him to enter a devouring frenzy just to try and prove him wrong.
Which brought a vocal thought towards the Nopon in question.
"Hey ’Hamster,’" He directed at Tora, a simple plan forming on how to try and out-perform him.
"What're you thinking of getting?"Having never encountered the strange appellation, Tora ignored Mao until the more observant Poppi prodded him. “Hm?” He looked up from his menu, requiring a repeat question, but once prompted again he spoke freely. “Mehmeh, Tora not know yet. Almost everything new.” Seeming awfully concerned, he looked between his fellow diners. “They really serve doggy here?!”
Goldlewis abruptly burst out laughing, going so far as to slap his knee. “Hahah, no son, that they don’t. It’s just what they’re called. It’s actually pork, mostly. Sausages made from all kinds o’ ground-up pig bits.”
“Sausage?!” The Nopon’s eyes shone. “Tora take ten!”
Mao nearly fell out of his chair.
"Ten?!" He repeated, coming to the realization Tora’s stomach was almost certainly bigger than he thought.
“What’s the matter, Mao?” Jesse asked. “He too powerful for you?”
Mao quickly tried to defend himself.
"Not at all, it just surpassed my initial expectations!" He spoke adamantly, composing himself now that the initial shock had worn off. Jesse nodded thoughtfully.
Poppi shook her head in mild reproach while smiling, the move very characteristic of her creator. “Masterpon, why not get all sorts of different things rather than lots of one? That way, if one not to taste, at least there more to try.”
Her logic made sense to Tora. “Okay, meh! In that case, Tora need thinky-thinky little longer.”
Ram, of course, had come to her decision long ago. “Burger.”
“What kind?” Goldlewis asked, glancing her way.
The question seemed to puzzle the girl. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there’s a whole bunch of different kinds,” Goldlewis said, realizing Ram didn’t have a menu and sliding his over. “Look, right there.” He tapped the list with an enormous finger. “All-American, Blue Cheese an’ Mushroom, Barbeque, Bacon an’ Egg, Cheese-Stuffed…” His eyebrows shot up. “W-wait, Cheese-Stuffed?!”
"How about a small selection of everything and extra plates so we can all try everything?" Sora suggested. "I used to do that with Donald and Goofy when Little Chef made something new."
“Donald and Goofy?” Jesse said, pulling up a seat. “Like, Mickey Mouse, Donald and Goofy?” She asked.
Visibly confused, Goldlewis stroked his beard, “You mean them ancient cartoons from two hundred some-odd years ago?”
“I never heard of them,” Raz pitched in. “Actually, where are all of you from? Since some of you don’t know what hotdogs or hamburgers are, you must be from pretty far, right?”
“Backyard,” came Ram’s immediate answer, followed by no further explanation or details.
"Hell." Mao answered unironically to Raz, while finding amusement in the Donald and Goofy discussion.
"And even I know what Disney is. Those cartoons have been catching mortal eyes for hundreds of years at this point."Tora scratched the side of his head with his wing. Suddenly feeling like the odd man out, he went ahead and answered the question posed by Raz. “W-well, Tora and Poppi from Alrest. Home is on Gormott, in Torigoth. Tora miss it very much sometimes, meh.”
“Masterpon need add more context or nobody understand,” Poppi advised him, leaving an implicit understanding for everyone else. Then she went ahead to provide the much-needed context herself. “Our world rests on sea of clouds. Everyone live on or inside Titans, enormous creatures who walk, swim, or fly above cloud sea. Gormott is huge four-legged titan, covered by forests and plains, and Torigoth is main city there.”
"Living inside enormous creatures?" Mao raised a hand to his chin for a moment, thinking of the possibilities and science behind such a thing. He wanted to see it for himself.
"Fascinating."“It very beautiful!” Tora supplied.
Before the conversation could get any further, Burgerpants reappeared. “Hey there, folks. Sorry to cut in, but if you all know what you want, I can get your order put in for you.”
Goldlewis waved his hand at the menu. “Two of all five kinds o’ burger an’ three o’ each o’ them three hot dogs. Onion rings, nachos, an’ fries too. We’ll give everythin’ a shot if ya don’t mind.”
Having had time to scan the table for his precious sauce by now, Mao made a small addition to Goldlewis' horde of food out of personal preference.
"Got any hot sauce in the back? Need a bottle of that, too."“Sure, gotcha,” the server said, jotting down the order in his notebook before heading off.
“We can get more if anyone feels like it,” Goldlewis reasoned. “Now, uh, where were we?”
Not being able to talk, but being ordered to ‘socialize’, something that Antillions weren’t really made for, the ice antlion could only take a napkin and draw a rough sketch of what Floralia was like. Intrigued, Tora leaned over as best he could to take a look, although his egg-shaped body nearly sent him tumbling to the floor when he leaned too far.
“Heh, that’s cute.” Jesse peered over at the napkin the creature was drawing. “You guys sound like you’re from some wild places. I’m just from the USA, the place this restaurant is themed after. A small town in Maine.” For a moment it looked like she was somewhere else. Blinking, she continued. “For a long time I travelled all over, though. ‘Specially the Midwest. So I’m not too partial to any one state.”
Eyes studying their surroundings, Mao noticed an obvious difference from the endless sprawling huge cities and hell-raiding humans of the Earth he was associated with.
"So not all of America is war-minded and full of giant mecha?" He questioned, though his expression marked his words as somewhat disappointed.
Jesse set her elbows on the table. “We’re probably talking about two different Americas in two different worlds. The America in your world very well could be. Mine isn’t like that. At least, not the giant mecha part.”
Leaning back in his chair only to catch himself as it creaked and ease up a little, Goldlewis ruminated over the others’ versions of his country. Choosing not to disclose that he didn’t know what a mecha was, he decided to reveal his secret. “Well, I guess I’ll let y’all in on somethin’,” he said, straightening the metal cow skull clasp on his tie with hands wearing fingerless gloves with horseshoes on them, “I happen t’be American myself. Texas born an’ raised.” Stroking his whiskers again, the big man then turned to Mao. “If you ain’t exaggeratin’ for whatever reason, I can tell ya one hundred percent for sure you an’ me ain’t from the same neck o’ the woods, seein’ as I’m the Secretary of Defense.” He said it matter-of-factly, like anyone might when telling a new acquaintance about his job, despite it being the title of the person second-in-charge of the military of his world’s most powerful nation. He shrugged and crossed his arms. “Not that it means jack in this world, o’ course.”
“You a politician, Goldlewis?” Jesse looked the large man up and down. He seemed like a parody of an American. But considering that he was ‘from a video game’, he might actually be just that. “I work in the government, too.”
He looked her dead in the face. “I’m sorry.” After a moment, however, he gave a wry chuckle. “Well, I ain’t a politician so much. Just a soldier, doin’ what I’m told.” The sigh that followed that pronouncement was tempestuous. “I thought I’d be able to change the system once I reached the top, but most days it’s all I can do to hold the country together. Becomin’ the system ain’t changed a dang thing ‘cept me.” Shaking his head, he took the drink menu in hand to scan it for something heavy and dark.
The Director nodded thoughtfully, though she didn’t want to make him feel bad by saying that she hadn’t really suffered the same problem. She pretty much cut through all the bullshit and made all the changes that she wanted. Though, she wouldn’t exactly call the FBC a democratic institution, and she certainly wasn’t elected by the public. But what would that sound like? ‘Try harder, numbnuts,’ basically.
“Well. Sorry to hear that. I’m more of a- a federal agent.” Jesse said. “But you know, keep at it. If that’s not working, there might be other avenues for change.” She offered, half-heartedly.
Mao found more amusement in the idea that Jesse and Goldlewis were both in notable government positions than anything else. It spoke to them being above the usual fodder.
"Figured as much." He responded to both Jesse and the big ol' Texan, unsurprised they weren't of the same origin. Or at least they didn't live on the same ant-farm of a planet he was associated with. Hand toying with a barbeque sauce bottle on the table, he decided to explain himself a little more clearly.
"It's definitely not an exaggeration, the America I know has legitimately launched attacks on my Netherworld," He paused, making sure to put emphasis on what that was as he jabbed a finger down onto the table.
"Their own literal hell! With fleets of flying battleships, and robots taller than that palace out there." He seemed to speak a bit fondly of this, a puff of air escaping that seemed mostly like a scoff more than anything else, but it marked some more amusement.
"Really, they're crazy. Think they'll earn some sort of immortality if they destroy the afterlife. They'd be in for a rude awakening once their souls had nowhere to go!" Jesse smirked, chuckling. “Yeah, okay. Sounds about right. So, Mao, as a denizen of Hell, do you have your own Heaven and Hell? Like, a Super Hell?”
Mao shook his head.
"When a demon dies, they reincarnate into a Prinny." He quickly continued:
"It's the same form the souls of dead humans take when they first arrive in either world. They get stitched into a temporary body, trained, and then used as slave labor or soldiers. After a few centuries they'll repent enough to reincarnate into an actual demon or angel and live a new life." He slumped in his chair, thinking for a moment.
"I've had hundreds of them cleaning the academy daily for years, I think a few are probably due to transform soon." “Well. That’s kinda grim. What happens if a Prinny dies? Just stuck right into another Prinny? Do you keep your memories?” Jesse asks, leaning forward. Living in a world with no scientifically confirmed afterlife made Jesse interested in such things. As far as she knew, her ‘soul’ also had nowhere to go.
"They just get stuffed in a new body, that's right." Mao confirmed, figuring it best to not mention that their repentance time also got reset. Discouraging a potential future Prinny too much wasn't ideal.
"Pretty sure they don't have memories. If they do, the Prinny Instructors get rid of them during the training process." “Huh.” Jesse sat back, draping her arm over the back of her chair and sticking her tongue into her cheek as she considered the system. “Sounds to me like you guys have the key to immortality and are just depriving each other of it. For what? The sake of some kind of sick cultural tradition. Sure, your ‘soul’ might still be around, but if your soul isn’t your personality or memories, then what the Hell is it? Not much. Sounds to me like you die, get obliterated, and then harvested for energy.”
Mao eyed Jesse.
"Sounds about right, though the most we harvest is through fighting. Demons, Humans, and even Angels perish in a bout for more power against each other and themselves." She had a point, to an extent, and while Mao didn't care about it specifically he couldn't hold back on the subject.
"We're peaceful, at times. But strength is an overall ruler of any of the three worlds, so reincarnation is a good way to knock anyone weak enough to perish back down the totem pole. Lives will end, new lives come in. Maybe even stronger than who they were previously, carve their own stronghold or become an opponent for the stronger beings to beat down again." This made Mao wonder who he was, before it all. Probably not an Overlord, a clear evolution of whatever waste of space an old form of his reused spirit was. Not like he remembered his time as a Prinny, either.
“Sounds like an effective system for what it's trying to do. If you’re a fan of eternal suffering, for some reason.” Jesse joked, taking it all in. “But to be honest, if you like it, you do you. I was just curious about the afterlife part, and it sounds like a big merry-go-round. Although, if humans go to either Hell or Heaven, but demons don’t go to Earth, that begs the question of where ‘new souls’ come from. It’s just-” She leaned forward. “I dunno, doesn’t really sound like an afterlife at all anymore. Just three different places. You still don’t
actually know what’ll happen when it’s all over. When you commodify the soul…” Jesse realised everyone at the table was looking at her and Mao. “...What?” She checked her face and shirt for stains of ketchup or mustard or something.
There came to pass a slight lull in the conversation, quiet except for a cough from Goldlewis while Mao prepared his repartee. Once the big man ducked out of the discussion, he’d left just Mao and Jesse going at it, their weirdly metaphysical conversation dominating the dinner table while the others -being mostly teens or younger- sat in bemused silence.
“...I was expecting you to just say you’re from up north,” Raz eventually said in a stunned, quiet voice.
To Tora, lost and a little uneasy, this was the tipping point. “Meh, meh!” he broke in, never one to balk from the chance to grab some attention for himself. “That all sound like baddy-bad deal. Good thing it not like that where Tora from, right Poppi?”
“Well, we not know anything for sure,” Poppi corrected him, resting her chin on her fist with a thoughtful look. “It seem like not all worlds have things as figured out as friend Mao.” She knew her Masterpon well enough to know he wanted to change the subject, however, so she glanced over at Sora and Raz. “What about you two? What it like where you from? Just in general.”
The talk of Hell and Prinnies and cloud cities and Titans definitely fazed Raz, but he bounced back quick, not even asking any follow-up questions when, really, he should have. “Me?” He folded his arms on the table. “My family’s traveled around a lot, taking our circus all over the place, so I can’t really say I’m
from anywhere, really. Before I came here, though, I’ve been in the Psychonauts HQ for a while. The longest I’ve ever been in one place, I bet.”
Mao spent a moment trying to figure out what a 'psychonaut' was for himself. Was it a submersed psychopath? Was it psycho-naught? As in, there were no psychos? That made sense, maybe. Curious now, and not wanting to make a fool of himself, he decided to ask.
"Weird name for an organization. What's it about?"“You never heard of the Psychonauts before? Oh man, where do I begin?” Raz’s eyes lit up - in a metaphorical way, not that his reddened eyes got any brighter - at the prospect of enthusing about the Psychonauts to someone. And, well, what better place to start than at the… start? Raz led into a little
speech for the table, not missing a beat the entire time. When he was done, he trailed off, letting the moment hang. Then he added, “That was what Coach Oleander said about Whisper Rocks, at least, but I think it gets the point across good enough if you ignore all the war talk.”
Momentarily left speechless, Mao's glasses nearly fell off his face, and would have if he hadn’t adjusted them back over his wide eyes. Nothing was captivating quite like a war speech, though the idea of it being the only part Raz wanted to discard was disappointing.
"So, your brain's a weapon? What, like a psychic?" He questioned with interest. He always wanted the ability to read minds. It'd make traitors much easier to pick out.
“Uhh…” Raz hesitated, looking like a deer in headlights at such a seemingly innocuous question. With a sip of his soda to steel his nerves, Raz answered, “Y-yeah, I’m a psychic.” He revealed this like it was a very personal and volatile secret, gauging everyone’s reactions, finally looking his age since the first time they all met.
“Huh,” Goldlewis remarked, impressed by the boy’s intricacies of speech. “Sounds like ya got the bum end of a deal bein’ stuck workin’ for Validar.” More carefully than last time, the cryptid collector leaned back in his chair. “I reckon any government would be frothin’ at the mouth for a skillset like that.”
Raz shook his head. “That’s the thing, ever since I got into Al Mamoon, my ‘skillset’ hasn’t really… worked. I can’t seem to use a lot of my powers and there’s some kind of
force or, or something that’s stopping me from projecting into people’s minds. I’ve been kinda lost on what to do about it since it’s just me out here. None of the other agents.”
The resident Nopon brightened up, an idea in mind. “Meh, meh! Why not join friends on quest to save world, then?” he asked Raz.
At that, Raz’s mood did a 180. “Oh, I think that Fox guy was saying something like that earlier, too. Save the world from what, exactly? Evil conspiracies? International supernatural terrorists? Psychic moles?
That was a dark chapter in the Psychonauts…”
Looking at Raz, Mao realized the potential awkwardness involved in explaining the False God with him still influenced by the light. They could beat around the bush, but if he was cursed like that then he was essentially a liability waiting to happen.
'Told myself I wasn't doing that crap again,' He thought in a moment of spite, queasy just thinking about it. However, he was curious about what exactly was supposed to be on that mountain anyways, so getting this out of the way meant they'd be able to talk freely about it.
”Something we try to not be too vocal about," He lied, not exactly an unlikely thing for a demon to do.
"Public could go pretty crazy knowing about it. So, if you want an 'eye opener'," He hoped the others could tell what his intent was, as he pushed his chair out and stood up.
"Then let’s step out and I’ll explain it without all these mooks listening in. Then we’ll all be able to talk without making things more difficult." “Roger that,” Raz said with a serious look. A part of him found it strange that Mr. From Hell was the one doing so, when the much better candidate to be a leader-y type was either Goldlewis, for his bigness, or Tora, who seemed to be the most in the know. But he’s spent so long listlessly following Al Mamoon’s regime that he ignored any inklings otherwise.
Glad this would at least not take much convincing, Mao nodded and started walking. He'd get this done quickly, as to not let the food end up cold, not like it'd been much different for him anyways. And given the whole 'not speaking publicly' thing was a lie, that'd save him some time too. A basic rundown like Midna's wouldn't take long: Giant false god mish-mashing worlds, people with red glowing eyes were oblivious, and... Well, that was most of what he knew, aside from Spirits and Friend Hearts, which was a can of worms to be opened up on the mountain, probably. The only real question now being how exactly he was going to handle beating the crap out of the poor psychic. As Mao led Raz out of the establishment to use the dark alley beside it for the deed, he slowly started deciding on what fist to use.
The departure of Mao and Raz, with several of the more veteran Seekers having a pretty good idea about what was going to happen, left the floor open, but not for long. "Well, since everyone else has shared their worlds, I guess it's my turn." Sora began. "I come from Destiny Islands. Grew up there with my friends, Riku and Kairi, until the islands were attacked by the heartless the first time. Most everything is on the main island, like the school, but there's some smaller islands with their own secrets. But that's only one world. Donald, Goofy and King Mickey come from Disney Castle. Donald and Goofy found me in Traverse Town, though, because my world had gotten swallowed by the darkness. Only reason I made it out was because of the Keyblade. I've visited so many worlds. Agrabah, Wonderland, Olympus Colosseum, Twilight Town, Radiant Garden, Land of Dragons, San Fransokyo, Arendelle, Monstropolis, and that's only a few."
Although the avalanche of unfamiliar names more or less bounced right off of Tora, one aspect of Sora’s story intrigued him. “Hold on, spikypon Sora travel different worlds even before Galeem twist everything topsy-turvy?” Remembering something he’d seen during the Resistance raid, he pulled himself up halfway onto the table, leaning forward far enough that Poppi hurried to slide his water glass farther away. “And Sora even swing big key around just like Master of Masters, meh! Does spikypon know anything helpful about World of Light?”
“Probably not,” Poppi reasoned, trying to calm him down lest Sora be overwhelmed. “He gleaming like everyone else at start.”
“Ah…” Looking a little dejected, Tora sank back down into his chair. “Poppi right. Only people we meet who not gleaming were spookypons in black coats. Everyone else in same boat.” Not for the first time his admiring gaze fell on Ram, but in this instance the Nopon paused, seeing the bigger picture for the first time. “Come think of it, not notice at first with hood down, but…” he began slowly, his dark eyes curious. “Cutiepon Ram wear same coat as Master of Masters and blockyhead Gneidxick.”
"Black coats?" Sora asked. "Did you get a name from any of them?" His thoughts immediately went to both versions of Organization XIII. "As for the world of light, the way I understand it, it's probably Kingdom Hearts itself, which is trapped in the Realm of Darkness." He lingered on who the Master of Masters could be but, having no clue, he mentally shrugged. "You said the Master of Masters has a Keyblade?"
Utterly befuddled by the combination of words ‘kingdom hearts’, Tora couldn’t answer much. “Meeeh...yes?” The reply suited both questions, but he could offer no fresh details. “Just Gneidxick. You know anything? Name ring bell?”
"No, sorry," the keybearer frowned. "Yen Sid might know something. I can't get back to him without a gummi ship, though. I could try the gummi phone but there's no telling if it'll work."
As he looked around, however, Tora got only blank stares. Realizing that she and her Masterpon were the only ones here from the original group, Poppi tagged in with some help. “We meet Master of Masters half week ago, right at start. Say he escape from Galeem by temporary nonexistence. He seem like jokester, but he one who tell about spirits and enemy champions. Gneidxick is annoying man with dice head we fight in Land of Adventure before coming to desert. After we win, woman in black appear and take him away.” Even with her prior experience, however, Poppi couldn’t offer a lot of detail on those mysterious individuals. The whole group had been scattered and continuously busy for so long that the subject didn’t really come up, either. All the artificial blade could add was, “They strike Poppi as secret organization working in shadows, like Torna.”
Goldlewis had a lot to ponder, but faced with Ram in particular, shared Tora’s intrigue. “Now that I look atcha, ya ain’t got them glowin’ red eyes either,” he observed, prompting the young woman to reach up and lay a hand softly against her cheek. “They’re sorta light bronze, like...shiny pennies?” All attention lay on Ram as Goldlewis furrowed his brow and put forth the question on everyone’s mind. “Uh, sorry if I’m intrudin’ miss Ram, but I guess I gotta ask...y’wouldn’t happen in this group miss Poppi mentioned, are ya?”
The hat-wearing brigadier did not shy away from his gaze. “I am.”
“...Tora knew it!” the Nopon exclaimed as he sprang up and down in his chair, causing minor tremors across the table with each bounce.
As the Nopon shook the table, the duo was just coming back. The door to the establishment opening and a few words from a conversation mostly finished was all that could be heard, if the sudden situation at the table wasn't too much of a distraction.
"So how does something like that compare to psychic moles?"Raz, now free from the shadowy glow and red eyes of Galeem’s influence, rubbed his chin in serious thought. “I’d say… about the same threat level, just in the sky instead of underground.” He didn’t seem to be joking about it. What did those moles
do? Before that can of worms could be opened, Raz snapped to attention, a piece clicking into place for him. “That’s it! That’s why my Psycho Portal hasn’t worked on anyone, because it isn’t reaching their
actual mind, just whatever Galeem version on the surface! That’s honestly suuuch a relief. I was afraid I broke it somehow. They’re expensive to replace, you know.”
Mao didn't, but that didn't mean he didn't have some sort of curiosity regardless. Weird-mind devices? Those were just up his alley, though after his situation with Nastasia he wasn't terribly in the mood for risking his own mind against another person with weird head-powers.
"As long as you don't use it on me, you won't have to worry about how expensive it is." He took notice of Tora's antics in front of them, raising a hand to quietly tell Raz to
"Explain how that machine works later," before addressing the drama at the table.
Walking up beside Tora he could hear the chair creaking and figured the rotund Nopon would be on the floor soon, at least if he didn't stop bouncing around.
"They won't have anywhere to put the food if you break the damn table!" He complained, placing a hand down onto said table with some aggression that matched his tone, absolutely counter-productive to the point he was trying to make. He could notice some of the eyes of patrons peering this way, but blamed it on Tora rather than himself..
"What're you making a scene about?"At some point, Jesse had produced a notebook and pencil. “How the hell do you spell Gneidxick..?” She murmured under her breath, taking a guess, and scribbling down more notes.
As Tora tried to deflect Mao’s concerns, his companion could only offer Jesse a blank look in reply. “He not spell it,” she told the note-taker. “Your guess as good as Poppi’s.”
With the return of Raz and Mao, as well as Tora’s speedy absorption of everyone’s attention, the simple but profound answer offered by Ram went almost unappreciated. From the Nopon’s description earlier Goldlewis would have thought that finding what amounted to a self-admitted secret service agent in the group’s midst would be a bigger deal, but since nobody let loose a whirlwind of questions or showed the young woman any hostility, he guessed not. If anything he found himself hard-pressed to broach the subject again. “Huh,” he said after a moment, stroking his beard. “So...does that mean you were keepin’ tabs on these folks?”
Patiently impassive, Ram nodded. “Sometimes. I do want a burger, though.”
“I see…” Goldlewis murmured, not seeing at all. “It’s just, I’m a li’l put off by how doggone casual everyone’s treatin’ this. From what the others said, I’d started thinkin’ your group was workin’ against us. I don’t suppose you could tell us what you’re aimin’ at, just t’set our hearts at ease?”
Ram blinked, thinking for a moment before answering. “I am not your enemy. My mission is to make sure that the champion of the Sandswept Sky is destroyed, but also to risk myself as little as possible.”
When she heard the name Ram used for the region, and remembered that Validar called this place the Eastern Desert, Poppi suddenly recollected a detail from a few days prior. ‘Sandswept Sky’ was the appellation given to this place on the map the Seekers found in Peach’s Castle, and subsequently left in Smash City Alcamoth. Whether or not that meant something she didn’t know, and Poppi certainly couldn’t say anything before her Masterpon did. “Meh-meh? If that case, why coatypons act so mysteriousy?” Tora asked. “And why blockyhead attack us? We should be working together!”
At that, Ram shook her head. “I am sorry. I am not allowed to say any more.” She looked around between the gathered heroes. “If you would rather I did not eat with you, I understand.”
“Well, now,” Goldlewis admonished her, relaxing in his chair with a creak. “I didn’t say I changed my mind, did I? Way I see it, everyone’s got their own agenda. People always rag on the whole ‘enemy of my enemy is a friend’ deal, but in my line o’ work we gotta take what we can get.” He cracked a broad smile. “Besides, I ain’t so cruel as to deny a li’l lady her burger.”
The Nopon seemed to agree. “Tora not afraid of Ram. If Ram share dinner with Tora and friends, Ram become friend too!”
Ram tilted her head slightly. “Is it really that easy to make friends?”
“Not exactly,” Tora admitted, the realization he’d taken to heart always close at hand. “But it certainly help. Food not just for filling belly, but also for growing closer!”
"Yeah," Sora spoke up, "it's great to share a meal with people and make friends."
After nodding, Poppi spotted the server headed toward the table with a few baskets of food. “Speaking of!” One by one Burgerpants laid down the baskets of burgers, hot dogs, and fries, as well as an extra bottle of hot sauce. After a round of thanks he departed, leaving the party of heroes and misfits to their meal.
Tora’s eyes sparkled as he surveyed the feast, drooling mouth agape. “Meh, meh meh!” he exclaimed. “It all look so good, Tora not know where start!” That statement proved to be disingenuous, however, since the next second he simply reached down and started stuffing a topping-laden hot dog into his mouth, not even stopping to breathe.
Mao, deciding to look at the feast rather than aggressively pursue what the hell was going on, simply withdrew his hand from the table, instead resting it at his waist as he walked back to his seat. He had mixed feelings about dining with a supposed ‘spy’ but it was apparently more complicated than that, and if she wasn’t going to answer anything more, that’d just mean a fight they didn’t need to be causing before dealing with Validar tomorrow.
Grabbing the hot sauce bottle and popping it open once he was sat down, Mao took a long swig of it to, ironically enough, cool off before putting it down. Wasn’t the worst, but he’d had better. Couldn’t be too much of a chooser when it came to a free meal though.
”Alright, you’ve lost me.” He spoke up, allowing his calmer nerves to approach this without shoving a spear in the direction of the supposed ‘spy’. That wasn’t even the weird part now, this ‘Champion’ was what caught his attention, since Tora seemed to imply their goals aligned.
”This ‘champion’, what is that? I thought we just needed to go thrash Galeem, that false god, to get everything back to normal.”“Wish it that simple,” Poppi sympathized. Since she cared only about the smells of the food, she could answer questions while the others were eating. “Galeem shielded by thirteen really strong enemies. One in every region on map. We already beat two in last couple days, and next one at big mountain,” she supplied. As long as Mao had happened to look north while in Al Mamoon, there could be little doubt about which mountain the artificial blade meant.
”So that’s why we’re heading up there.” Mao felt a little more enlightened, though it didn’t change much in the long run, did it? What were a few more victims on the warpath, especially if they were as powerful as Poppi made them out to be, which would surely yield more powerful spirits to only empower them, or as he more greedily thought, himself, further than could be imagined.
”At least it’s still simple.” He responded as he plucked out a fry and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. He had no high expectations for the foes atop the mountain or beyond, perhaps not truly understanding what he’d gotten into. Or it was his own experiences with combat, both within his own realm and beyond, that made it seem like another day in the grand scheme of things.
”If they’re protecting Galeem and keeping things from going back to normal,” He brought the fry to his mouth, happily chomping on it and continuing to speak as he chewed.
”Then I’ll make them footnotes in my warpath towards this self-proclaimed ‘God’!” “Boss fights.” Jesse said aloud as she wrote this in her note book. “Thirteen boss fights. Two in two days is great progress. But you all might want to consider taking a break. Don’t want to get burnt out. It’s important to take time to decompress and relax. Vacation days increase work productivity. Not to mention, they’re just good for you.”
"I never took vacation days when I had to beat Ansem, Xemnas, or Xehanort," Sora said between bites of the burger he'd grabbed.
“Nah fer meh,” Raz said through a mouthful of hotdog. Then, after swallowing, “‘The best way to stay on the ball is to keep it rolling’. That’s what my parents always say. I’m itching to get out of this palace and go beat up this so-called champion!”
Though confused for a moment following Mao’s assurance of going all-out against Galeem, Poppi realized her word choice led to a misunderstanding. “Oh, not two,” she said. “It been four days. We spend first night in Peach Castle, second in Lumbridge town after crystal horror, then third in Parnasse. So tonight makes four.”
“Ugh, not sleep well that night in Lumbridge,” Tora groaned, halting his feast just long enough to shudder in dread. He’d done his best to just forget about that mass of sloughing, creaking, vomitous thing from the stars, and remembering it almost put him off his meal. A deep breath of all the delicious smells in front of him, however, restored his appetite.
Poppi continued. “Friend Jesse is right about breaks, but we pretty used to everyday action. As long as Masterpon have plenty to eat, bed to zonk out at night, and breaks to give Poppi maintenance, we okay.“ Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Come think of it, why we do everything when there so many fighters back at Smash City?”
“Because we best there is!” Tora exclaimed through a full mouth, flapping his wings in self-professed triumph until Poppi shot him a glare. With a mighty effort he swallowed the last of his second hotdog, then quickly patted his cheeks with a napkin. “But vacation does sound nice, meh.”
"There's too much to annotate for me to lounge around," Mao remarked, plucking a hamburger out of the pile of food. A slight smirk crossed his face as he thought about the sheer amount of learning that could be done regarding the functions of the world around them.
"I’ll have to gather more specimens. The Spirit of this ‘Champion’ and it’s servants would be an excellent start." It was hard to tell if he was salivating because of the burger in his possession, or due to the idea of building immense strength through the methods provided to him.
Raz looked over to Ram, having practically swallowed his food whole. “So is your ‘champion’ the same thing that we’re after? If our goals are the same, we should probably join forces! Two organizations are better than one, right?”
Before she said anything the hat-wearing girl finished chewing at her own pace, then set the remaining half of her burger down. “I must risk myself as little as possible,” Ram repeated. “I can offer direction, but little else.”
Sora jumped up and pointed at Ram with a big smile. "You can take Ienzo's role! He was keeping everyone informed about what everyone else was up to and had learned about Xehanort's plans. Do you have a Gummi Phone?" He pulled his out to show her, smiling big at his idea. She could only shake her head.
While the others spoke, Goldlewis had been taking his time. Rather than rush through his hamburger he slowly savored each bite, showing remarkable restraint, and when he finished the sandwich he did not reach for seconds. Instead he pondered what his new allies had mentioned. “So, the champion’s up on the mountain,” he recalled. “Seein’ as you can fly, I don’t suppose you got any advice?”
Ram nodded, and after finishing off a fry, replied. “Yes. If you cannot fly it will be a difficult climb. It will get snowy and cold. It would be wise to prepare yourselves accordingly.” She helped herself to another fry, her face still impassive. “I would highly recommend any measures to slow your fall or nullify fall damage.”
"Another snowy mountain?" Sora complained. "Is there an easier way than climbing?"
“Lucky we can fly!” Tora assured her, all smiles.
“Masterpon mean Poppi can fly,” his companion corrected him. “Masterpon just weigh Poppi down.”
“Meh?! Surely Poppi not mean that?!”
"Better be careful, or you'll end up snowballing down the mountain!" Mao snickered, as he thought about how he'd survive the climb himself. He allowed one of his mechanical limbs to poke out from underneath his vermillion clothing, the sharp scalpel jabbing at a fry and returning with it to feed him.
"My mechanical limbs should be more than enough to keep me from falling. This thing on my head supposedly emits some sort of warmth, too." He explained, accepting the fry like a royal would accept a fresh grape as he gestured to the Ruby Tiara on his head.
“Don’t worry, I can Levitate enough to break a fall, and with my Telekinesis I can stop anyone else from one too! Or, well, they’re
somewhere in here.” Raz knocked on his own head to make the point.
Goldlewis nodded in appreciation. “Good stuff. I can break my own fall with an airdash, but it’d be mighty tricky to rely on it to save my life, and I can only do one per jump.” Removing his glasses to clean them, he went on to admit, “That said, I don’t know if I’m gonna be doin’ any mountain climbin’. That kind o’ stuff just ain’t my forte.” Once he slipped them back on, he took a sip of water. “I reckon I might do y’all some good by headin’ back toward Midgar. There’s some folks I oughta link up with an’ heart if I can. Lay down some ground work for when y’all make your way up there, y’know.”
"Wait, you're not coming with us?" the keybearer asked, his hand freezing as he reached for a hot dog.
It would take a lot more than the guilt of letting one unfamiliar kid down to give Goldlewis pause. “No, son, reckon I won’t.”
"Shame, guess I won't see how strong the Secretary of Defense is after all." Mao commented, thoughts turning to the idea of Goldlewis having people he'd like to connect back with and friend-heart. Made him wonder if
any of
his friends servants were
still around.
"Not a bad idea to open more eyes to what’s going on, though. If I could find my servants, I could get them recruited on the spot." A light huff blew up the spikier half of his hair momentarily.
"But I doubt they're around here. Would've run into them by now."“It seems like a big place, though,” Raz said thoughtfully. If he was there, was anyone else? His family? Fellow Psychonauts? Lili? “I just hope that wherever my, uh,
friends are, they’re doing alright outside of the whole…” Raz paused, looking around the establishment, before continuing in a whisper. “
Puppet thing. Anyways, Mr. Goldlewis, I hope you’ll get to where you’re going safely! Looks like we’ve got a pretty dangerous trek ahead, ourselves. Actually-” Raz shifted in his seat to Mao, who seemed like the one most ‘in charge’ among the group, given his personal de-gleamification. “Who else is a part of your group?”
"No idea!" Mao admitted seemingly without much care, snagging a hotdog before the last of them disappeared into the seemingly endless pit of Tora's stomach.
”Most of the big group at the palace, given they were changed already. Minus the Resistance members." He glanced around for a sign of confirmation.
Both Tora and Poppi, being members of the original group, knew that it was their time to shine. “We can say,” the artificial blade volunteered. “First there Fox, leader of Yellow Team.”
“Tora not really get know him since he sort of aloof, but he cool!” her partner expounded. “Friend Fox move so fast that Tora eyes can’t keep track, meh!”
Poppi nodded before moving on. “Next is Midna, our roguish little summoner.”
“She nice! All kinds of weird magic, plus hips that not lie!”
“Also Primrose, team dancer. Is mage and supporter all at once!” Poppi continued, her expression turning irate.
“
Very nice!” A wistful look crossed Tora’s face as he sighed. “She way above Tora league…”
“Then there Sectonia.”
“Annoying! And stinky, meh!”
“Before coming to city we find Braum at lakeside warzone.”
"Right, that huge guy." Mao nodded along, recalling his help underground.
"I’m surprised he didn’t end up flattening someone with that shield."“Anypon who use shield good in Tora book!”
“Oh, and Phantom Thieves, too. That is Joker...Mona...er…” For a moment Poppi trailed off, but she remembered fast enough. “Panther, Skull, other Fox, and Necro...Necro!”
“Tora surprised Poppi remember all names,” her Masterpon remarked offhandedly. “They strong and stylish, but kind of secretive. Meh, meh...Tora never understand what they talk about.”
It took another moment before Poppi remembered the last member. “And the samurai! Yoshitune.”
Having believed his job done, Tora had already wolfed down half of the last hot dog. “Meh,” he mumbled through his food. “Yoshitsune not very interesting, so Tora forget he exist. Never say anything to Tora anyway.
HORK!” The Nopon suddenly jerked, choking on his food. Unfazed, Poppi lifted one arm and chopped the back of Tora’s neck so hard that he slammed into the table, discharging a hunk of hot dog before he fell backward off his chair and onto the ground, senseless. Of course, he popped back up a second later, whining. “Owww! Poppi settings need major recalibration!” Once he rubbed his head he climbed back into the chair, gormlessly ate the hot dog he’s coughed out, then moved on to try a burger.
Raz followed along on his fingers, up until he ran out of fingers, which required him to reuse some of his old fingers to count the new members. It wasn’t a very efficient system. “That, uhh, that doesn’t seem like a
lot of people going up against something so powerful.”
"It’s more than enough!" Mao exclaimed, gesturing towards himself with a half-eaten hotdog that, after Tora’s display, he was hesitant on finishing.
"Since we’re destroying it, there'll be nobody complaining about a lack of mercy as I turn whatever’s up there into my latest experiment." His head tilted up, expression shifting into a sneer behind his fogging glasses.
”Now that sounds like a vacation!”"That's not nice!" Sora frowned at Mao, his hands moving to his hips.
Mao, easily insulted of course, took offense to his reaction.
"I'm not nice!" He retorted, an irritated look on his face.
"Don't mix me up with 'good guys' or 'heroes', we just happen to have the same goal! I'll approach it how I want." Just the word 'good' left a sour taste in his mouth. He quickly grabbed the hot sauce bottle off the table and poured it’s contents onto the remainder of his hotdog, before shoving it in his mouth to try and overtake the sourness.
With a shrug, Goldlewis took a hefty swig of his water, then set it down and wiped his hands clean with a napkin. In his line of work ‘good guys’ and ‘heroes’ meant nothing--only the press ever utilized those terms to make whatever story they might be pushing easier for the populace to understand. So too was Mao’s a meaningless distinction, since in this slapdash World of Light the only thing that truly matters, the big man now knew, was the destruction of Galeem and restoration of normalcy. Whether idealist or realist, wide-eyed youngster or grizzled veteran, weapon of mass destruction or mad scientist, a lot of strange bedfellows would need to come together to make this happen.
The secretary of defense stopped pondering to look around the table. Having pretty much finished their meals, everyone seemed to be in pretty good spirits, all things considered. For a bunch of strangers common cause meant an awful lot, enough to get all these people from vastly different walks of life chatting. It felt weird, there being an ongoing multiversal crisis and all, but at the same time it warmed Goldlewis’ heart. The World of Light, an assimilation of all reality, could have easily been one of ceaseless misery and suffering, but instead it allowed for such ordinary, human moments as this--moments that Goldlewis had been missing for a long time.
Burgerpants appeared a few moments later. “Separate or all together?” he asked.
“We got these, meh!” Tora held up his Gold Pass.
The server’s looked at the token through half-lidded eyes. “Uh huh, okay. I’ll just, uh, head back and make a note of that. While I’m at it, does anyone want dessert?”
Mao simply shook his head.
"I’ll pass."Meanwhile, the Nopon flapped his wings in excitement. “Ooh, ooh, me! What friend have?”
“We’ve got apple pie, mud pie, fried donuts, shakes, and root beer floats,” Burgerpants replied.
“Tora want try mud pie!”
Sora grimaced at Tora's request. Turning to Burgerpants, he asked, "Do you have sea salt ice cream?"
“Just vanilla.”
"Nevermind, then," Sora said, looking a bit disappointed.
“I’ll take a shake, please!” Raz said.
“I’ll have an apple pie.” Jesse added, taking a sip of her water, and pushing her mostly emptied plate forward. It’d been too long since she’d had a good meal.
Having already had his fair share of junk food, Goldlewis declined anything, although Ram requested a root beer float. Able to sense that the group dinner would soon wrap up, the Secretary of Defense asked, “Even if you’re not fightin’ alongside us, we’ll see ya again, won’t we?”
Ram nodded slowly. “I will be watching over you.”
In just a few minutes everyone’s treats arrived, and the whole group got the chance to enjoy a last bit of sweetness to end a pleasant evening. After that, with bills all taken care of, the crew cleared out of Spread Eagle. At a leisurely place. They stepped back out into the warm desert night, surrounded by the vibrant nightlife of the solitary city and awash in the beat of its heart. Goldlewis bid everyone farewell, at which point Ram wished them all good luck and floated off the ground, flying away into the night. With nothing going on until the next morning, at which point Validar’s press release would coincide with the heroes’ departure for the mountain, everyone could do as they pleased. Tora planned to hit the sack harder than he’d hit anything in his life and snooze the night away. Those whose keen curiosity got them itching to explore, however, could find wander to their hearts’ content, and anyone not satisfied by the day’s fighting could find more if they looked hard enough.
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