Pacifista

Variety Hour: An Absolute Comics Roleplay

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Under the light of the falling sun, slightly cloaked by magics of darkness, Rachel, Koriand’r, and Garfield (in the form of a crow) went through the city of LA without any undue attention. Disconnected from the news media, the fallout of their battle and following escapade would be something to discover another day. For now, Rachel led the way, guided by her phone until they crossed into a more upscale area, where larger mansions and large yards with prim trees and clear pools resided.

“A place of magic lies here, in this region of recreation?”

“Apparently. We’re getting closer,” Rachel said, pointing her finger ahead, past the wealthy suburb and to an even more secluded region. Given the desert locale, the tree density was uncharacteristic. As soon as she started to note that and speculate, she felt a pull on her cloak, turning to see Garfield’s talons holding on, flapping as though to keep her at bay. Stopping, she waved him off. “What?”

Wings fluttering, Garfield led the way, going down to a corner between two fences, out of sight to any who weren’t driving right by. Transforming as the two girls landed, he asked with a cautious tone, “Are we going to H.I.V.E.?”

Koriand’r let out a light gasp, while Rachel looked at her phone. “What? No. We’re going to the facility of some group called the Home to Improve Volunteer Exceptionals ...Oh.”

“‘Oh’. Yeah, yeah, let’s go right back to the place I just escaped from! ...Wait, Kori, why did you gasp?”

The princess blinked. “I was concerned about the haplodipoidic eusocial insects that might be at our destination. I don’t know much of the fauna of Earth, but the nearly extinct Klamora hearth eaters once caused great devastation to my home world.”

“...Okay, well this time a hive isn’t a place bugs live, it’s a cult run by a guy called Brother Blood. After my mutation showed up, my parents didn’t know what to do. Krakoa's kinda far and we wanted to stay home, but we didn't want undue trouble, so 'he' let us in. He takes in a lot of kids but he’s mostly interested in special ones. Mutants, geniuses… We get dorms and an education, our parents pay for it and come in for sermons. Honestly, looking back, a lot of what he said was...not good. He talked about us being gifted and strong while the world was dominated by the weak. He talked about the inevitability of the X-gene’s spread leading to humanity’s evolution. All the old Mutant supremacy stuff. Me and my parents were never down for it, most probably aren’t, but H.I.V.E. felt like the only place I could belong. He always found the worst things to say about everywhere else. I just focused on keeping all the kids younger than me happy and kept up with my studies. My parents though, they did the real heroic thing. They dug into his past and his deeds and found some stuff they didn’t like. They didn’t report it or anything, they just tried to get me out of there. Blood doesn’t take resignation from H.I.V.E. though. Honestly, I get the sense that he knew, he just let them try. I...had to fight some of my school mates to get out, but they didn’t make it out with me. I don’t even know if they’re alive anymore. It’s only been a few days but...”

Rachel opened her mouth. “ If you’re done trauma dumping-” But Kori’s words were stronger, “That is horrendous! We must rescue them, and any who do not wish to live in such conditions.”

Garfield winced. “I mean, I’m down, but that’s a pretty big ask. There’s dozens of students in there. Mutants, tech wizards, regular wizards maybe. I don’t think we can take them all.”

“...What’s the enrollment process?” Garfield gave her a look, before understanding dawned. “I can phase through walls, so escape isn’t a problem. We get in, sow discontent, gain allies, I accomplish my goal, and we leave with whoever wants to go with us.”

Garfield thought, nodding growing in intensity before he said, “Yeah...yeah, that can work! He might be suspicious though if he saw us on the news.”

“We can make it work, we just need to play the right part.”

---

The doors to H.I.V.E. Academy swung open, the gold steps and pillars of the foyer looming above as two sets of feet moved across tessellated black and white tiles. Rachel felt shivers down her spine, clocking other ‘eyes’ on her, the pillars coming from top and bottom to sandwich shining orbs, each of them in truth being magical surveillance: eyes to detect anyone wandering around. But there were no guards here, or students.

“...Hello?” Rachel had lost her bluster.

“If the lights are on, then there must be someone residing here,” Koriand’r noted.

From the top of the stairs, a figure appeared, wearing casual jeans and a red and white plaid shirt. His steely grey hair fluffed up at the sides and top of his head, and he looked down on the two young ladies, his jaw strong and his gold eyes twinkling. “Well well well, what do we have here? Unexpected dinner guests? There’s always more room at the table!” said Brother Blood.

X-Men: Emergence

This is a private 1x1 I’m doing with Hillan, made as an offshoot of Ultimate One Universe: Emergence to continue our characters. Anyone interested in reading along should refer to the character sheet in the characters tab for the previous post directory.

X-Men: Emergence

C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L

F I R E B I R D

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^{"Yes, I mind."}

^{_{J E A N E L A I N E G R E Y – S U M M E R S ♦ T E A C H E R ♦ B A L T I M O R E}}

O R I G I N S:

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You’ve slipped through the cracks. The mutant problem was already solved and you should stop pretending otherwise. Your suffering is dementia. Your aberrations are a fashion statement no one is listening to. Other people in the world are suffering more than you. Your truth is just a psy-op. Your pain isn’t real. You might as well not even exist. Jean’s suffering was like that of so many mutants: quashed and belittled to the point that most believe it to be a non-issue, if it wasn’t just seen as an elaborate hoax. Gaslit out of her own childhood, how could Jean Grey know otherwise? Drugged out on sedatives constantly so that her mind didn’t split Beacon, New York apart. Kept away from others as much as possible so that she didn’t cast her elementary school into flames. They could go to the authorities, sure, but then everyone would know they did their community a deep disservice by giving birth to a monster. But while puberty is where many come to fight their bodies, that was where Jean’s finally caught up to her mind, not that she was allowed to know. As far as she was aware, she’d been ‘cured’ of her childhood insanity through prayer, her well meaning parents insisting that her ‘powers’ were mere hallucinations. They loved her, so how could they be wrong?

Her middle and high school years allowed her a semblance of happiness, but her powers were always a part of her. Her bursts of emotion led to odd flares she would never be able to easily explain away. But what she needed was not prayer, time, or even assistance and guidance. She’d needed a drive to master it, and someone to join her on her journey to accepting herself. She acquired a crush on Scott Summers even before an accidental probe into his mind allowed her to uncover his mutant powers, one bad fall away from vaporizing a city block. They lived on their own precipices, one bad day away from losing everything they loved. Just knowing about him and his struggle would help her: to know someone close was fighting their own fight. And to know her own feelings she had to come to terms with everything that was her just to make that short step of asking him out. Jean would one day extend a hand to help him. Years later they would be living out of a cheap apartment in Baltimore, struggling to raise their son in a chaotic world that was about to become so much more chaotic.

Inspired from the recent X-Men ‘97, I intend to write a story that strips Jean of her relationship with Charles, the X-Men, and (though I’m drawing from the name, unless plans change) the Phoenix, telling the story we start to see in ‘97 from the reverse. Not a Jean trying to settle down from being a hero to start a family, but a Jean with a family choosing to follow a path that allows her to use her powers for good in a new age, to give a much needed social justice to a peoples who’s mere existence is deemed a problem to be fixed. All the while she deals with her own family circumstances as her wants place more burden on her husband, and her battles put more strain on herself and risk the uncovering of her childhood traumas left buried for so long.

S A M P L E P O S T:

---

“I’m glad your dog is dead!”

“Shawn! Take that back!” Juniper broke down as recent wounds were made fresh again. The class erupted into a mixture of laughs and shouts. Jean stood, her red hair flowing behind her as she took Juniper by the hand and moved through the desks of 4th graders. They went silent as their teacher towered over them all, but as she reached Shawn’s desk, she crouched down, taking his dark hand in her free one. His expression fell to one mixed of annoyance and embarrassment. He tried to maneuver his hand away but Jean kept a gentle hold of it.

“Shawn, I know you’re going through a lot right now. I think all of you are, all of us always are. The world’s hard right now. It’s nothing like when I was a kid. But I think it’s because the world is scary we should try to be kind.” She gauged his reaction, his desire to not be here right now. To have kids so full of creativity and energy be bottled up in a classroom was torture of the worst kind, and global pandemic would leave scars none would ever be able to guess at the depth of. It had taken weeks for her to be able to convince them not to be engaged with the constant stimulus of their phones, their safe retreat where so many of their parents didn’t have the time to spend with them from long hours worked. “Do you want to try and apologize?”

Shawn remained pensive, guilt plain. Then he cracked a smile, but not from anything Jean had done or said. A fart resounded through the class, all tension unwinding as the kids burst into laughter. Jean lurched, trying to hold onto her balanced as she failed to contain herself. Many things changed, but some things never would. Jean was trying her hardest to leave an impression on these kids, but it seemed sometimes a deep speech full of optimism was less than a fart, and maybe for now that was alright. When the class calmed down, Shawn did apologize for making fun of Juniper’s recently deceased dog, a sad story she wanted to share with the class. Giving the class an opportunity to come clean on their feelings and let themselves be vulnerable in a safe space wasn’t an idea she thought was bad, but perhaps ‘private one on one teacher talk’ would have been a better move. Baby steps.

A short while later she sat at her desk, eyes mindlessly wandering across the water damage spots on the ceiling of the far too old ‘temporary’ classroom while she slurped at her beef flavored Cup Noodles, decadently garnished with about 3 cents worth of grated ginger, who’s flavor and health benefits was no doubt buried in preservatives and MSG. She dripped some broth onto her yellow blouse, and didn’t even care. Lunch break felt like her one solace in life, where she was able to turn her mind off. _{Turn off the safety.} And not have to worry about her finances, her underfunded classroom, her husband and child back home. _{Load a bullet in the chamber.} But dammit it was so worth it, she told herself every night as she tried to sleep in between Nathan’s wails. It was for the ki-

And then they’ll see me. Then they’ll hear me.

Jean’s mind, never quite shut, was drowned constantly in noise. The darkest thoughts, the most pleasant dreams, the inanely mundane babble. Like static from a TV or the rumble of an air conditioner, she tended to shut it out. Even the loudest most passionate thoughts would only be brief interruptions, like that of a car exhaust or firework. Easily mistaken for a gunshot, momentarily annoying, and quickly ignored.

But sometimes it was a gunshot.

Jean leapt from her seat, pittance of a lunch splattering on the floor. Her mind probed outwards as she spilled into the hall, hurling by a passing teacher and student. “Bathroom!” she yelled as she passed right by the nearest one. She ran across the fields, well away from the kids still in the cafeteria area, a few stragglers enjoying the playground before it became a carnival. Passing by a few bushes filled with webs and spiders, she found the back area where the fence divided school with the minuscule backyard of low end housing. A form dropped from the top of the fence, scrambling up and pointing a handgun right at Jean. He wore a heavy coat and beanie despite the higher than temperate weather, and she immediately noticed why. Green skin, no nose, big yellow eyes wide and full of anger, fingers almost too large to even fit into the trigger guard. Her breath went cold. No amount of mental preparation could ready you for your first time staring down the barrel of a gun. But so easily could she imagine the 12 bullets in that pistol, yet to reach the chamber, flying through the air at her students. Her own breath went hot, and her eyes went yellow like the sun, for they were of the same breed.

She plumbed into his mind, and she saw. She saw him skulking through the midday on his way to this school. She saw him stealing the gun from a gang banger in the middle of the night, running from retaliating fire. She saw him leering at the bright world outside he wasn’t allowed into, a hate festering that Jean could only claim she couldn’t understand if she felt like lying to herself. She saw him scorounging for scraps of food while trying to hide from people guarding it, because protecting the excess waste of gross capital was more important than the lives of the poor and downtrodden. She saw him, small, no older than anyone in her own class, retreating as stones were cast his way. She saw him tucked away in his parents basement until he was so hungry he had to escape, only to find his parents had left him. She saw him born a once normal boy. For a time, he could be happy in a world where no one knew what he truly was.

“LEAVE THE GUN, AND GO.”

It was not a word spoken, a suggestion offered. It was a command implanted. She feared the residual effects she could have on a tender mind, yet felt as though she had no other choice, not in this moment. She knew it wasn’t a solution, but she couldn’t think of anything else. She couldn’t alleviate his pain, she couldn’t take him in when she was struggling so much as it was. She couldn’t go to the authorities who would not be helpful or kind. There was no place in this world for he who didn’t ask to be born a monster. He left the gun and crawled back over the fence like nothing was wrong. She waited for him to go before lifting the gun with her mind, drawing out the bullets and dumping them down a drain pipe, before drawing on her pyrokenesis and telekenesis as one, melting and crushing down the gun into a ball and letting it cool before hiding it in a bush.

The rest of the school day seemed to drift by. Her body felt numb as she went through her classes, her post-school meetings, her bus ride home. She packed it all down and away. Leftovers to dig into later. Going up the 8 floors to her apartment, she steeled herself and put on a smile as she reached the door. It opened before she even reached it. Head full of auburn hair, eyes blocked by the red lenses of his sunglasses, a light coat over a security guard uniform, he began, “Hey! They called me in early so I gotta go but Nate’s asleep right now and I made enchiladas! They’re in the fridge and I’ve already got the oven prehea- Jean?”

Scott was suddenly buffeted as Jean rushed into his chest, shaking with sobs that broke out of her once she’d seen the face of the man she loved so much. He wiped the surprise off his face as he sank to his knees with Jean, who couldn’t support her own weight any more. He put his arms around her without hesitation. I’m right here for you. I’m right here. And I’ll always be here. He repeated in his head. He wouldn’t find out the details in this moment, but through her sobs he would be able to make out the phrase that would define the coming years of their life.

“Something has to change.”

S U P P O R T I N G C A S T:

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• Scott Grey-Summers: Jean’s husband. Certified Wife Guy (it’s on his cooking apron). Works as a night shift security guard. Cursed with eyes that could blow a hole through a building through his mutant abilities.
• Nathan Grey-Summers: Toddler. Likes eating his crayons even when he’s told not too.
• Leech: Local mutant with no ability other than his alien appearance. Takes a name fit for his position in society. Harbors a deep hatred against the world he’s been cut off from, and Jean has yet to find a means to help him even though he desperately needs it, leaving him as an unchecked ticking time bomb wandering the Baltimore area.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

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Warm Embrace

1.01
1.02
0.01 Stark Expo Part 1, by Lord Wraith (included as it's relevant to Jean's Story)
0.02 Stark Expo Part 2
1.03
1.04
1.05
1.06
1.07

X-Men: Emergence

The bell sounded out with the usual clatter of chairs and rustling of bags. “Bye Mrs. Grey!” “Byeeee!” “Goodbye Mrs. Grey.” It warmed her heart to have even a handful of her students offer farewells. She liked it even better when they weren’t so rambunctious or forgetful, but what could you do? “Who forgot their shoe?!” she called down the hall, a pair of feet running back to grab it, roughly putting it on before taking off without a word of thanks or apology.

Sitting down, there was one student left, having taken advantage of Jean’s means of lending an ear. Antonio sat in his tank top, head bowed. Jean took her seat and turned her chair, leaning slightly forward with her forearms on her legs and hands loosely clasped. In the silence she glanced at the drawer she kept her phone in, heart pulsing as fears and anxieties reared up, but she kept her cool and resisted the urge to check it.

“You said that if we tell you something bad we wanted to do we wouldn’t get in trouble?” Antonio finally spoke, his words weak.

A light sense of dread crept in. “I said that, and no one’s gotten in trouble for talking to me.”

Antonio was still uneasy, but after he was quiet for a minute or so he went to his backpack. He returned with a kitchen knife about eight inches long. Jean kept neutral. Easier done than said when she’d been lightly aware of it all day. “Is that from your kitchen?”

Fear spread on Antonio’s face. “Are you gonna tell my mom and dad?”

“If they don’t know you have it then you just need to put it back and there won’t be a problem. But that’s only if they don’t know.” Antonio normally tried to be tough in class, dismissing assignments and not putting any effort in. The scared boy in front of her was almost unrecognizable in a way. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out half a pack of Nutter Butters, her intended sugar break for the rest of her post-school work. He let out a low whine, taking them with shaking hands before devouring them as fast as he could. Halfway through the last one, he stopped to break down. It took all of Jean’s effort to hold back her own tears.

He spoke through his sobs. “M-May c-c-called me sk-skinny d-during PE yesterday a-and I was mad s-so I b-brought the knife t-t-to stab her.”

Taking a breath to steady herself, Jean reached out and put her hand on his knee. She wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or hers. “A-and I’m o-only sk-skinny because my p-parents don’t feed me!”

That was the cry of help Jean had been looking for. She’d known. How could she not? She didn’t give him a snack on a whim. But to randomly give him food usually would have been an odd look, and Jean didn’t want to be on the receiving end of suspicions she couldn’t easily dispel or invite unwanted claims of favoritism or 'getting to close'. Mind reading was something even she felt was off putting, more so than her mutanthood. But now, in this case, it was no longer a concern.

Jean’s stomach was mixed with relief at the weight starting to lift and anxiety at what was coming next, a scenario she’d spent more than a few bus rides grappling with. When Antonio started to calm just a little bit, Jean said, her voice wet, “We’re going to get you help. I’m going to get Mr. Grant and Mr. Satou, okay?” The former the most veteran teacher of the school, the latter the Vice-Principal. Even if Jean knew what to do, deferring to her seniors as a the most junior was the smart play. You can’t do everything yourself, Scott had told her some time ago when they were still figuring out their domestic situation. She’d been trying to take it to heart. You’re not in trouble.”

A quick call on the school lines had the two older men at her door in minutes. Jean stood back as they took over the situation. Sadly it wasn’t the first time either of them had dealt with abuse cases. Wouldn’t be the last for any of them either. Thanks offered to Jean, they took control of the situation and moved Antonio to a different office. Hopefully they had something a little more substantial to offer food wise. Jean was left at her desk, leaning back and taking a moment in the empty class to just...unpack everything a little. Some time later, there was a knock on the door with a soft voice following. “You okay in there?” Mrs. Herb was always the strictest and firmest with Jean, which was why this soft tone rendered her nearly unrecognizable.

Wiping at her eye and finding a bit of errant moisture, Jean insisted, “Yeah, I’m okay. Gimme five more minutes.” There were some footsteps as she took her up on that. Not sure if she’d return, Jean blew her nose before daring to check her phone, her source of anxiety for the past school day. She’d been seen this morning when she lifted the truck, and she’d spent the whole day waiting for her life to crash down around her. It was a risk she’d been prepared for, but at this point she thought it might be better for the other shoe to just drop, no matter what else came down with it.

To Jean’s surprise, Mrs. Herb did return, taking the seat Antonio had been using. “I just came here to check on you. You did the right thing, and Antonio’s going to get the help he needs. But are you all right? You look like you got a lot on your mind.”

Jean gave her an odd look, confused by the stressing of an unexpected word. She reflexively did that which she had so often never wanted to do as she peeked into the woman’s mind. She saw herself, standing on the side of the highway road talking to a police officer in passing, from the perspective of someone in a driver’s seat with a bag of school papers on the passenger side. A once overturned truck passed by next. Flashing back to reality, Jean’s jaw flapped open as she realized what she’d seen in Mrs. Herb’s memory.

Jean tried to play it cool. “O-oh! Oh. Uh. Mm.” She did not play it cool.

Mrs. Herb pursed her lips. “You weren’t even wearing a mask. Did you think no one was going to notice?” She hissed, as though someone might be just outside the door or window.

“I-I know, I just didn’t- I didn’t think it was going to play out like this!”

Herb took a palm and planted on the side of her face, shaking her head. “Hun, you are out of your mind.”

Jean massaged her temple, the scolding helping her snap back. “I’m doing this for a good reason! I just...don’t know what’s going to happen from here on out. I’m prepared, but...”

“Prepared to get fired? If the school district thinks you’re a liability then it won’t be pretty.”

“Then I might be able to sue for discrimination against mutants!” Herb dropped her hand, mouth gaping into a neat ‘o’ as she stared, dumbstruck. Jean looked to the side nervously. “M-maybe?”

“And if there’s trouble downtown, are you just going to fly out of class? What kind of example will that set?”

“I know I can’t do everything, but that doesn’t mean it’s fine for me to do nothing.”

“But it doesn’t have to be, you know, this!”

“You sound like my husband...”

“Well, I’m glad someone in that household has sense!” Jean have her the side eye. “Look, I know you’re not stupid. Honestly you’re too smart for your own good. I’m not going to say you’re doing the right thing, but I’m not going to say it’s wrong either. Just…” Herb grabbed a sticky note and jotted down her phone number. “Think before you go forward with this. I won’t like it, but I’ll cover your class if you need to. As long as it’s important!”

Jean took the note, studying it for a moment, before asking, “...You don’t think I’ll really get fired, do you?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grey-Summers.” Herb excused herself, leaving Jean to her lonesome. Her heart leapt when her phone suddenly started buzzing with notifications. Pulling it out of the drawer, she saw a message from Scott with a link to twitter, a number of people posting about the green and gold clad superhero spotted in the morning and asking about who she was. She felt excited and sick all at once. “There it is...”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

I think the best thing would be to start a new thread. But if you wanted to just continue this specific roleplay in a different thread, by all means.

@Master Bruce

For clarity's sake, I do intend to continue my characters somehow (on my own or in the next one as applicable). I only posted earlier because I wrote the post today and thought it would be funny. :^]

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

Keep going forward, keep going forward, keep going forward.

The black architecture of Apokalips seemed to at once sink under its red sky yet also loom endlessly in its tortuous labyrinth, the language of its construction alien to those with no power. Power in Apokalips was not mere brute effort, but intellect, wisdom, and freedom. To have the understanding to accomplish navigation was a privileged, while the servile were left to the whims of their masters, else left directionless, forced to cast themselves to the winding streets and paths that didn’t make any physical sense. And those left vulnerable to the streets of Apokalips would be consumed by them. A prison planet through and through,

Victor’s metal feet tramped through the vast and towering walls. None moved to stop him slave or master alike, only looked on in mocking derision or utter apathy. Stiff metal wings glided on the air far above him, parademons in the thrall of Dr. Bedlam watching and waiting. Victor’s breath came on hard even though he didn’t need it. His vocal systems operated based on his mind and mental needs rather than his biology, his biological throat long ago replaced. He panted not because he needed breath, but because his mind needed the noise, the sensation of his life as it fought for

something.

He didn’t know what he was fighting for.

A black cat crossed his path and the concrete at the edge of the sidewalk crumpled under his next step. He tumbled across the asphalt road, looking up as a set of headlights bore down on him. He raised his arms, shielding himself from the luminescence. Even as his blanket was raised, even as his eye shut, it continued to blind him. His arms hadn’t moved, they were lashed to his sides, straining against their bindings. A silhouette loomed above him. He hadn’t seen Bedlam in weeks. He hadn’t seen him in months. He hadn’t seen him since yesterday. He didn’t know, but he knew what he wanted to say. “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!” His anger brought a flash of lucidity: he remembered leaving Apokalips through a portal to Earth. Not just earth, but LA, his home. But now he was back, the scent of the continent sized flaming vents of Apokalips permeating his every pore. He’d probably never left this table.

“Language, child. You need rest. So take it. Take it and be calm, brother.”

He’d heard the voice before, he hadn’t heard the voice before. The silhouette raised their hands, reaching towards Victor’s temple. He snapped his teeth out, the bones only meeting air as the fingers found his skull. His hand changed into its cannon, firing off, the sound of shattering rubble being heard. He felt a numbness emanate from the fingers on his skin, those against the metal making up the other half of his face only felt as he pressed against their touch in his struggle. Then the numbness went deeper, into his brain. His jaw hung open, and his last sensations fled him.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

“Okay, while you’re swinging your arms and shaking your hips to the rhythm, you alternate swinging one arm behind you, then both in front, then the other arm behind, then both in front. Keep going, yeah, like that.”

After a good 20 seconds of the two idiots synchronizing, Lobo grumbled, “Yeah, nah, I’m done. This is scuzzin’ lame.”

Stepping out of the restaurant, a very nervous server said, “Y-your table is ready!” The four moved in, Garfield sliding back to Koriand’r. “How was it?”

She handed back Rachel’s phone. “It was most interesting! Though this recording device was large and unwieldy, the video should be quite excellent! I kept it as stable as I could, though on my planet our devices operate without the need for hands, so I could have joined in as well. The dance was very simple, but whimsical!”

As Garfield checked over the footage, the phone was wrapped in Rachel’s black magic and pulled from his grasp. “Hey, don’t delete it! At least not until I get another phone.” Rachel shook her head as the four were seated at a table with a white and red checkered cloth, all eyes in the casual restaurant on them. Normally it wasn’t the kind of restaurant that made you wait for a table, but their party needed some accommodations…

“I don’t know what fraggin’ krollo a hot dog is but I ain’t leavin’ until I’ve had at least 20.”

“Hey, don’t fill up on dogs, we’re only getting started. They’ve got wings, burgers, corn dogs...we’ll get you.”

“Who’s paying for this? You’re broke.”

“I’m not broke I’m economically challenged. Look, I’ll pay you back for it later. I’m good for it, and once you do your familiar ritual thing that’s that.”

“Fine, you’ll pay for it. One way or another.”

Ignoring the ominous tone, Garfield rubbed his hands together as some trays with grilled hot dogs, fries, and bottles of condiment hit their spot. Lobo grabbed one and chucked it into his mouth whole, raising an eyebrow. “The frag is this?”

For a moment there was a hefty green pig awkwardly sitting at their table, then a chicken, then a cow. Human again, Garfield explained, “We take a bunch of the animals most popular to eat on this planet, and after their good cuts are sold elsewhere, all the extra bits are mushed together into a processed paste and molded into these little tubes. No leftovers. Oh yeah, and they say every hot dog you eat shortens a human’s expected lifespan by 35 minutes.”

“...Gnarly.”

Rachel put down her hotdog, a single bite taken out of it with no visible interest in having any more in her body language. “You eat animals? Even though you turn into animals?”

“I mean, I also turn into animals that eat other animals I turn into, so...” Taking a ketchup and mustard laden bite, he swallowed. “I don’t see a problem.”

“This yellow sauce as a sharp flavor, I quite like it when paired with the rather bland meat, um, paste mold.”

“What happened to the Spanish?”

“Oh! I only acquired both languages today, so please forgive my grammatical slip ups and errors. My race has a capacity to transfer certain sought after knowledge from interlocking lips. I was desperate to engage with the people of this world so I did so with a woman selling food much like this. She was rather unhappy with the act, however, but I did learn Spanish and the tongue we are currently communicating in.” “English.” “Thank you! I only understand the words that have equivalent meanings in my own language, and through hearing you speak English I’ve been able to differentiate the two much more easily. I only want to be understood. Is the act of locking lips unpopular on this planet?”

Lobo had moved on to burgers, clearly zoning out on the conversation as he took them out in two bites each. “Oh, the opposite, kissing is really popular, but only between people in, like, love.”

“Oh my! That woman’s reaction was completely within reason. I did apologize but-”

“When are you going home again?” Taking a lone fry into her mouth, Rachel swallowed it before saying, “Buying some food to keep a planetary genocide from happening is one thing. Why am I paying for you too?”

Koriand’r grew flustered quickly. “I am deeply sorry! I merely went along with the flow of events without contemplation. I also haven’t eaten a meal of solid food in a number of day/night cycles, by Tamaranian measures.”

“C’mon, give her a break Ray-Ray.”

“Say that again and we’ll see how many pieces of silverware in this restaurant can be crammed into your throat.”

“Dinner and a show? You’re spoiling me.”

Koriand’r looked between the two of them. “Are you and Ray-Ray not friends, green one?”

“It was just a friendly joke!” Garfield was distracted for a moment as some chicken wings with a variety of sauces came out.

“It’s not Ray-Ray, it’s Rachel,” she said, voice envenomed. “And he’s Garfield, until I rename him.”

“Rename him? Is this part of a courtship ritual?”

“No. It’s like with pets: it denotes ownership.”

“GAAAAWH WHAT IN THE FRAGGIN’ GOOD FOR NOTHING HELL-” Lobo’s screech silenced the restaurant that had someone reached a low level of normalcy in the lull of casual conversation between the odd party. Those nearest took some careful and cautious steps back as Lobo stood from his seat, the table rocking as he bumped into it, grabbing Garfield by the collar and yanking him up. “Poison doesn’t work on me but it stings like a bitch! You and me are gonna have words, the first one being my FOOT-”

“It’s just normal food!” Garfield pleaded. Koriand’r looked to Lobo’s array, sticking a pinky out and dabbing it on the end of a half eaten wing (literally: the right side, bone and all, had already gone to Lobo’s stomach). Sticking the dollop of red sauce into her mouth, her eyes unfocused and she let out a gasp, coughing as her body trembled. “W-what is this? It’s reminiscent of substances my kind would use to enact chemical warfare!”

Rachel stared. “You mean hot sauce?”

“I think that’s sriracha actually.”

Lobo’s red eyes narrowed. “Then eat it.” He dropped Garfield from his grip, the lad grinning. “Don’t mind if I do!” Scooping up some of the wing, he popped the whole thing in his mouth and twisted it, pulling a mostly clean bone off. He let out a whine, his face scrunching up and sweat beading on his forehead before he started to chill out, swallowing. Wiping his forehead, he flopped back down on his chair. “The pain’s part of the pleasure. It’s probably the capsaicin that didn’t agree with you.”

Kori’s eyes shot wider. “That is an ingredient my people use to cow raging animals through pain induced fear.”

Rachel shrugged. “We use it in crowd control on humans, just don’t confuse pepper sauce for pepper spray.”

“Huh, I thought you humans were soft bastiches since you and your stuff broke real easy, but that’s not half bad. I’ll take some to go.” He punctuated that by popping the rest of the wing, bone and all, into his mouth. Sweat beading, he was visibly in more pain than any of their attacks had put him in before as he jaw crunched through the wing, but with a few labored breaths he finished the bite. “These are fraggin’ torture. You humans are scuzzin’ nutso.”

“You’re not supposed to eat the bones...actually never mind.”

-----

As the dusk set in, the four were out in a quiet parking lot, having moved there under the shadow of Rachel’s magic. Lobo’s vehicle had swooped in, the man slipping a few bottles of spicy sauce into its storage.

“Well, it was a rocky start, but honestly, glad to meet you Mr. Main Man.”

“Huh? You bozos are still here?”

“Er, well, it’s our planet and all.”

“Look, I can tell you’re a bunch good kids. Good little eggs. Well you can take those eggs and fraggin’ suck ‘em. I don’t actually like any of you, and you’re all real fraggin’ weirdos. The moment a bounty rolls around that’s worth it I will be back and I might be taking your hides with me, capiche?”

“...Was that an alien word or just Italian?”

“Kill yourselves.” Flipping them the bird, Lobo’s engine roared to life, litter scattering about as he blasted off, quickly becoming a light dot against the late afternoon sky.

“Oh, how thoughtful. His words might have been harsh, but the middle finger symbolizes unwavering trust and long lived faith!”

“...Uh, sure, we’ll go with that. Actually are we gonna talk about how he was totally, like, an 80s biker from space? And I feel like I saw him somewhere before.”

“Well that was a complete waste of my time and money.” Throwing her hood up, she jabbed a finger against Garfield’s chest. “That’s supposed to be travel money to support my campaign, not appeasement for intergalactic gluttons. Start paying it back sooner rather than later, while I’m still accepting it in currency, and not-”

Koriand’r leaned in between the two, still towering over both. “Oh, I can compensate you for your troubles. My sister’s coup has deposed me and my parents from our stations, so I may not have the funds I’m used to- oh! Your planet is not aligned with Interplanetary Banking. I would have to go offworld to-”

Garfield stared, eyes darting back to the sky, he mumbled, “We’re cool, but maybe don’t mention the ‘deposed princess’ part to anyone else.”

Rachel turned to head off, but it was not Garfield to follow first. “Please, I did not mean to trouble any of your world, but the two of you have been most helpful to me, it would be deeply shameful if I were to part ways without repaying your heroism.”

Rachel visible flinched at that last word. Garfield swooped in, throwing an arm over her shoulder and whispering, “You don’t have to be so pissy, let’s let her tag along for a bit. What else is she going to do?”

Rachel threw his arm away. “Not my problem, or yours. Let the government handle it. FBI, CIA-”

“MIB.”

“Whatever alphabet soup some stupid retired bigwig with too much free time and government blood money is cooking up. She cheerleader, me goth. It’s not happening. Let’s go.”

“A leader of cheers? I suppose my position as princess could be interpreted as such.” The alien royal was a good few feet away from Rachel and Garfield’s hushed mumbles.

“...When humans whisper, it means we don’t want to be heard by other people.”

“Oh, I will close my ears then, I do apologize.” Her hands were quickly clapped on the sides of her head.

Ignoring her, Rachel turned back to Garfield. “A stray animal like you has no business picking up other strays. She’s a liability, and you don’t have the coverage.”

“She’s alone on another world. If we leave her be she’ll be in more trouble.”

“And what will she accomplish in staying with us? You think she’ll be fine with my ultimate plan? Or should we lie to her and get her to help us unwittingly.” Garfield went quiet, face tight as he tried to process that. The two stood in silence for a moment, before Rachel stroked her chin, looking back at Koriand’r, who was watching a few birds pick at the ground for food. A ways off “On second thought...”

Garfield’s mouth flopped open as Rachel turned to Koriand’r, motioning for her to listen. “After conferring with my familiar, I’m going to give you an opportunity. I’m currently on a mission to find a large number of places of magic on this world and leave my mark on them. Every one of them is a black box: meaning that there’s no guarantee as to what we’ll encounter. W-”

“How did you even find these places?”

Rachel glared at the interruption. But even as their was bile in her words, she answered, “Meditation on a leyline with a map. It’s rudimentary. Finding the locations isn’t the hard part, it’s getting there. Even a simple garbage dump turned out to be more than I was prepared for.” She turned back to Koriand’r. “If you’re fine with putting your life on the line to help me leave my mark, then you’re more than welcome to join me for as long as you wish, on one condition: you do as I say, no questions.”

Koriand’r stood in thought for a moment, face going from curiosity, to contemplation, to determination. “I will pay my debt to you for your assistance, but I will not simply trade one set of chains for another. My heart will remain free. And I would quite like to become familiar with the two of you as well!”

Garfield’s chest swelled, an anxiety of his own coming to relax, but to his surprise, Rachel smiled at him. And there wasn’t warmth in it. “Very well.”

She started to float from the ground, Koriand’r joining her in the air. Garfield murmured, “You’re a real piece of work.” He didn’t know what she had in mind. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, but as he turned into a green crow and joined them in the air, the three of them flying off to who knew where, he was just glad that none of them had been left.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

With Jean involved in the event, I just wanted to make sure I'm clear, but I'll post with her again when the event advances a little more, as she'll be a latecomer and the current happenings are still in the early parts of the disaster. I'll continue to post Titans as normal, every two weeks (or faster when I feel like it).

One Piece: The Devil's Due (Always Accepting!)

Very nice! Games been quiet lately but I'm glad to hear interest!. Looking forward to it. Also consider joining the Discord (linked in the first post now) or just hit me up here if you have any questions.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

“Okay, can we chill out for a second? As a representative of Earth, I-”

“-say we just kill him.” Rachel interjected on Garfield’s plea.

Lobo let out a dark chuckle. “You can try.”

Rachel turned her eyes on him, the pair glowing with magic for a moment before widening as they shifted back to their normal purple. “Your soul isn’t part of the cycle of life and death? And how did you manage that?”

Lobo stood, the floating weapons trained on him shifting up to keep their fixation. “Yeeeah, I’m too bad for Hell, too good lookin’ for Heaven, and too buck wild for Purgatory. Only reason I haven’t popped your eyeballs yet is because I don’t wanna break my stuff trying.” Slamming both his fists against his chest, he cried, “I’m fraggin’ unkillable baby!”

“Fair enough. Like I said, I’m only here for the green one, what’s your business with him?”

“Nuthin’. I’m a bounty hunter, and the Tamaranian chick is playing hard to get. The green kid’s just in my way.”

“Good. I’ll take him and you two can sort out the rest.”

“I object!” Garfield cried. Before he got the chance to make his statement, Rachel hovered over, glaring right into his eyes. Garfield only flinched for a brief moment. “You’re just gonna let him come here and do whatever he wants? I don’t even know her name but I’m not going to turn away from someone who needs my help!”

“Think with your upper brain for half a second. We can’t kill the bounty hunter even if we tried. Unless you know of a nearby volcano or got a business card from that wizard-”

“Volcano wouldn’t work. It’s a scuz but I’ve walked out of ‘em before. Hurt’s like a bastiche though, so you better-” Lobo called.

“The people of this planet have two brains? I’ve never heard of such a being in all the cosmos! Not without two heads, that is.”

“I was talking!

“...Just the men.”

“Oh! And yet this doesn’t seem to increase their intelligence by significant amounts. Curious.”

“Wow, okay, rude.” Shaking his head, he insisted, “Look, we just need to make it more worth his while to drop the bounty. He had some other aliens to pick up, what if we help him with that in exchange?”

Koriand’r frowned. “Among them would be my father and mother, and a few other Tamaranians loyal to our faction. I would like to gather them all and return home, but do not have the means.” Lifting her hair, she tilted her head to reveal a dark diamond mark set to the back of he neck. “Furthermore, we are all branded. The Gordanians only temporarily released us with the intent of reclaiming their captives at a later time. Lobo may merely be the first to try and claim the bounty.”

Rachel looked at Garfield again, waving her two hands towards Kori. “You defend her now, you defend her from an entire extraterrestrial race and all the resources at their disposal. Cut your losses now and let’s move on.” Shaking her head, she muttered, “Unless you’d rather die free than live the rest of your life as my thrall.”

Garfield wracked his brain, before something clicked. “Well, if he’s afraid of someone more powerful...” Turning about, he offered, “Didja know that her dad could definitely beat up your dad?”

Rachel raised her fist, jabbing Garfield on his upper arm. Lobo shrugged, “I hope so! Space dust don’t put up much of a fight. Not that he had much fight back before Lobo Day.”

“...What’s Lobo Day?”

“The day I genocided my home planet and catapulted the empty husk into our local star. I celebrate the anniversary every year with my favorite diner slop and the home movies I made on the day.”

“...Okay we need a plan B.”

“Don’t kid yourself, you never even had a plan A.”

Rapping his hand against his skull in thought, he calmed himself when Koriand’r placed her hand on his shoulder. “I do appreciate you efforts, hero of Earth, but as they say on my home planet, there is a time where one must accept the they are forever within the Laznian’s maw.”

The cultural reference being lost on him aside, Garfield understood the meaning. “You...you’re giving up? What happened to refusing to give in?”

Kori shook her head, “If he really has casually genocided one world, I cannot let him do the same here, not after you so gallantly came to my aid. Please, green one, take solace in knowing that your kindness has given me something I can never return.” Garfield felt his spirit crumbling, but he had no words to offer. Head raised high, she took a step towards Lobo. “Very well. I, Princess Koriand’r of Tamaran, surrender myself to you.”

Rachel lowered Lobo’s weapons, but the Main Man’s face didn’t contain relief, glee, or smug certainty, instead falling to a careful consideration. “Princess?” Scratching at his shaggy hair, he grumbled, “You fraggin’ serious?” He glanced between Koriand’r and Garfield’s confused faces. “Fraggin’… Catchin’ a few loose war prisoners is one thing, but Tamaran throws some sick parties.” He took a few steps, pushing past the floating weapons before lowering his head down on the hood of a car, crashing through the metal and leaving a heavy dent. Shaking his head, he muttered, “One sec.” Pulling some device out of his pocket, he tapped a few button before holding it up to his face. “Hey scuzzos! You didn’t say there was Tamaranian royalty in the bounty. I don’t do royalty, not for that chump change. I want five times what you’re offering for the lot. ...Double? You think I’m fraggin’ around? Nah, forget it then, just give me the deposit back on the tracker… Hey, hey! It only broke because of your prisoner, I didn’t do a keezy thing! You give me that deposit back or-he, what’s your name? G’nahsa? Yeah okay G’nahsa you give me that deposit back or I’ll fly over there and pull your nasa out of your quin through your-DON’T YOU HANG UP ON ME! I’M GONNA FIND YOUR FAMILY, A GALLTRIAN ACIDSKIFF, AND MAKE SURE YOU ALL GET REAL FRIENDLY YOU KEEZY FRAGGIN’ BASTICHE YOU DON’T CROSS THE MAIN MAN LOBO, YOU HEAR ME!?” With a roar he threw his comms device on the ground, the metal bouncing off the sidewalk into a building window and crashing through. Picking up the damaged car he let out another yell before tossing it into the window after. Catching his breath, he threw his hair back before turning back to the three teens. Wiping at his forehead, he muttered, “Negotiations broke down. I’ll deal with those scuzzers later. ‘fore then, what’s the best slop you got to eat on this rock?”