Pacifista

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

“Jesus FUCK.”

“Can you keep it down? This is a library.”

Rachel didn’t even look up from her tome as the woman who gave birth to her came into their home’s private study. The shock faded from the older woman’s face before being replaced with anger, then apathy. Angela Roth demanded: “What are you doing back here?”

Rachel mused, “We haven’t said more than a sentence to each other in over four years. I don’t have a problem keeping it that way.” Out of the corner of her eye she looked over her mother’s slovenly appearance: long unkempt hair, a once beautiful face locked in permanent scowl, skin paler even than Rachel’s, a T-shirt in need of cleaning and sweat pants even in the middle of the day. To think this pitiful shell had once found Trigon’s embrace…

“Shouldn’t you be out dooming us all? You know that doing what he wants is just going to leave you dead.”

“I know, and I don’t care. You’re the one who abandoned me in spirit: why should you care who picked me up? Or are you just mad that I haven’t ended your pitiful life yet?” Angela’s scowl was etched more deeply onto her face. “Blessed with a greater purpose and you just spat on it.”

“Greater purpose? Greater purpose?! He’s a termite. An oversized bug acting out. There’s no depth, no secret, no greater meaning.” The room darkened. Rachel’s cloak drew across her body. “He just does whatever he wants because he has the power to do it. You’re just another fucking pawn in his game.” Rachel’s form seemed to swell, the shadows consuming all. Tendrils drew up from beneath her cloak as she turned on Angela, who backed away. Her venom still spewed out. “You think you matter to him? You’re a speck of dust. He’ll forget you long before he leaves this universe a graveyard.” Rachel loomed over Angela. Her eyes glowed red, and two more appeared, then another two. Angela’s scowl broke, fear evident in the trembling of her legs. She backed against the next bookshelf as Rachel drew ever closer. “I’d have killed you if I could. I should’ve, but I didn’t have a choice.” Rachel reached her arm out, and Angela flinched, dropping to the ground. She grabbed a book that had been a little outside of her reach and floated back, Angela collapsing to the ground as the room returned to normal light. Her breath came too fast for her to get any air, tears rimming her eyes. Some trauma resurfacing, Rachel assumed, but she didn’t care.

She flipped through the pages. “Did you think I was going to kill you? No. I’m going to let you live to see dear father again. I’ll just have to imagine your horrific death until then. Maybe I’ll have him tell me what he plans on doing to you so I won’t have to imagine it.” While Angela started to gather herself, a handful of books flashed dark, Rachel pulling them close and stacking them up. Some magic tomes, some normal literature, all of interest to her and her mission.

Starting for the same window she entered in, her mother spoke from her spot on the floor, her voice still weak. “I didn’t have a choice. You still do.”

Rachel scoffed. “The illusion of meaningful choice runs deep, doesn’t it?”

---

Approaching the hotel, ducking from building to building, phasing through structures, and floating over vacant streets to avoid any annoyances, as she approached she realized that Garfield’s emotional presence was gone. On one hand that meant her trip had been partly wasted, unless she stumbled across another familiar candidate later. On the other hand: good riddance.

Floating into her window, she plopped her books down before using her magic to scoop up the remote, uninterested in whatever news program Garfield had rudely left on before ghosting her. Or at least, that’s what she thought as she moved to the power button, stopping to watch the coverage of a live superhero situation elsewhere in town, the streets soaked from a collapsed water tower. A familiar green animal shifter was in the think of it, one of three unidentified agents of the situation’s chaos. Finger hitting the red power button, even when the TV was off, she couldn’t stop staring into the black reflection of the room on screen. She looked to the pile of books, then back to the screen, unable to run from the high probability that Garfield hadn’t run away from her at all, but run into that situation as soon as he noticed it. Nails digging into her palm, that thought irritated her to no end. Throwing her hood back over her head, she floated right out the window from which she came and streaked through the sky into the day.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Just a thought, and I'm not sure if I will do it, but would Cable be an option to play as?

@Theyra

Well, ultimately, it depends on what you’d want to do with him. If he’s Nathan Grey-Summers then he’s technically already showed up in the game as a toddler. If he’s someone else (like Niles Cable) or re-imagined to be another character then I don’t think there’d be any concern (unless the GMs would have something to say about it, I'm chiming in as someone who's technically already written Cable into the game). If he is Nathan though, then I’d have to think about what that means for Jean, since a big part of her motive in becoming a hero is making a better world for him to grow up in, so Cable existing as a time traveler from a doomed future would imply that Jean’s on the wrong path, (depending on how it’s handled), and I’m not sure I want to drop that implication before she’s even debuted as a hero.

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

RICO

---

“We’re not coming in even if we hear gunshots, so don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

“Okie dokie artichokie.” Rico ran to the doors of the Sundown Inn.

“If you say that in front of him he will definitely try to kill you!” The Sunstrider warned, to no avail. Shaking his head and looking to his partner, he remarked, “We definitely messed up, right?” He only received a hapless shrug in response. “Ah Helios…”

SOLBOOM. The door opened with a bang, Rico’s entry making it swing to slam against the wall. The music stopped cold, performers looking at Rico with terror. The locale was largely empty. Aside from the music performers and bartender, there was only one patron, sipping at his drink, his mess of dirty blonde hair over his eyes. A gold eye shot a dark look at Rico. “We’re fucking closed.”

Rico ignored him completely. “Hey there mister prince chaos man! Some guy named Dave hired me to be your bodyguard. My name’s Ric-”

In a mere moment he faced down the barrel of a gun. Aztec let his tongue loll out of his mouth, grin sadistic. “Didn’t ask.” Rico opened his mouth, but the gun fired. The musicians and bartender flinched, the latter going for a mop.

Rico, however, was still standing. “You guys really like to do that here, huh? Can you at least be quieter about it?” Aztec kept firing until his gun was empty, each bullet making Rico’s body spark, each spark dropping Aztec’s smile slightly. “You should save those bullets for the assassins, they aren’t gonna do much against mebrglkh.” Rico sputtered as Aztec threw his drink in his face. “Oh god it’s in my mouth what is that flavor it’s so gross eeeugh.” As he stuck out his tongue, eyes closed. Aztec’s mug came down on his head, glass shattering with a scream of glee from the young royal. Rico collapsed to the ground, and by the time he got the blood out of his eyes well enough to see, his ward had flown the coop. “Oh bitch.” The bartender, musicians, and chair visibly relaxed with Aztec gone.

“...Chair? The seat that had been behind the stool Aztec rested on stiffened back up. Rico grabbed it and picked it up, finding it heavier than normal. One of its arms reached past him, grabbing another chair and bashing Rico over the head. It turned to splinters, Rico dropping the chair out of shock. “What the what?!”

The chair was not a chair, but a man pretending to be a chair. Limbs and body covered in thin plywood, he ripped his hat off, revealing a human face and torso that was relatively flat. “You little snot I’ve been waiting here for him to let his guard down for hours! I need the hit money to buy a bigger house! My current one can’t fit both my wife and all my chairs. It’s either this or a divorce and I’m too old to play the dating game again!” [Mahoghanie Cherie Blakwood, “The Chairman”, Bounty Hunter]

“Hit money… You’re trying to whack the prince!” Rico said from his prone position. Blakwood grabbed another chair and bashed Rico with it. Wood clacked against wood as he ran away. Rico rolled onto his back before jumping to standing again. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he sprinted off after the Chairman. Once he was outside, his legs lit up and he awkwardly floated down the road in his pursuit. “Frightful Tianlong!” Coming down from his long jump, he held his elbow out, slamming right down on Blakwood. Splinters flicked one way or the other as The Chairman was crushed into the dirt, unmoving. Standing, Rico reeled, calling, “Got yer ass-man right her oc’iffers!” Shaking his head, he cried, “Which way did the prince go?”

---

CATHERINE CORIANDER

---

“It’s because God’s blood runs through the Heavenly Dragons that they rule us all. God lives within nature, within all of us, as long as we let Him in. The Dragons are closest to God and thus hear his will more strongly.” The elderly woman in the nun’s habit was rather animated as she paced back and forth in front of the podium in Melody Island’s church. About the same height as Coriander, she was on the portlier side, her cheeks full, a few locks of gray hair poking out from under her coif. “The Western Dragon Will Faith believes that the Heavenly Dragons are Gods in themselves, that they should not be seen as fallible or human. The Devil too can live in the heart of any human. That’s the Devil Devil, not Avalon the Devil. We must keep our faith strong to keep the Devil at bay! The Heavenly Dragons exterminated his bloodlines, but that doesn’t mean he can’t return in spirit.”

Coriander nodded along, the kids at her side trying to keep pace with the discussion. Sorrel adjusted his glasses. “My dad was talking about how the Heavenly Dragons are dangerous. They can turn you into a slave…”

Mother Basil gave a slow nod of understanding. “That they can. It’s not as though they only enslave bad people either. But it’s not as though a storm only endangers the evil. God acts through nature, but he wasn’t angry at us a couple months ago, was he? We need the water too even if the lightning is scary. The Heavenly Dragons can hurt good people and good families, but we need their guidance to keep the world running! For as many as they might hurt, there are so many more than can be safer for them. They aren’t completely deaf to the Cardinals and Templars, and that any of us here could walk among them on Marie Geoise is a miracle in itself. I think that compared to nature, we might be luckier with the Heavenly Dragons. They can discriminate, or have biases. To some this might be cruel, but to others it’s a blessing. To be a husband or bride of a Heavenly Dragon is the highest honor a human can achieve! To join one’s own blood in holy union with the descendants of Gods: what more could one ask for?”

Coriander wondered, “Wait, does the King Chauderkind Harvine XIV have Dragon blood?”

Basil shook her head. “No, he doesn’t have holy protection. Even if he did, the Marines couldn’t spare the manpower: kings are meant to protect themselves.”

Coriander looked fuzzled. “Then why are they kings? We’re different from the Heavenly Dragons because we don’t have God’s blood in our veins, but why is their blood holy?”

Basil stared for a moment, before admitting, “That is a great question. I don’t actually know, myself.”

“Eehhhh!?” Coriander and the kids exclaimed. “Mother Basil doesn’t know something? I thought I could trust you!” Sorrel gawked.

“W-we can still trust her, no one knows everything!” Peppermint reasoned.

“It’s like she’s not even a person anymore…” Rue muttered.

“Hush you,” Verbena grouched.

“This is why it’s good to ask questions! I’ll come to an answer in due time. In the meantime, I think you’ve been here long enough.”

“Yay!” There were a few cheers, the kids thanking Basil for the sermon before taking their leave. Coriander was the only one to stay behind.

“Do you think I could find the answer, Mother Basil?”

The woman chortled. “I would like to see you try! But you can’t divine it from the air, that will just create another interpretation and schism our faith.”

“I wasn’t going to do that!” Coriander gasped in horror.

“Then how?”

“...I gotta go, thanks Mother Basil.”

“Have a good day, Coriander.”

There was a slight pang in her heart as she took her leave of the church. Seeing the kids further along the forest path, she didn’t feel like catching up with them. They’d go off and find their games. If they really wanted to see Coriander they’d find her no sweat. Instead she headed home, head abuzz with postulation and speculation alike.

Entering her home, she saw her dad by the window, nose deep into a book. Wanting to change, she gave a quick greeting before moving to go upstairs.

“Coriander, there’s a surprise waiting on your desk~” Hyssop teased.

“Thanks dad,” she said with relatively low enthusiasm.

“It’s not a book this time! I’m sorry, I thought you’d love ‘Farming Traditions of the Islesselsi Isles’! You’d wanted to know more about wheat!”

“I was just making small talk about your job, you could have just told me...” Coriander muttered as she closed the door to her room. Spotting an envelope on her desk, she sidled over, throwing her veil and coif onto the chair as she read the name of the sender. Her shocked scream echoed through the house. “HAKU?!” Unable to contain herself, she grabbed it, hopping up and down in her spot before scanning the room for a letter opener. Ungracefully opting to use her teeth and fingers, she read the letter with glee.

Dear Coriander, this is Haku.

I’m writing this letter to keep in touch, as I had many things to tell you but couldn’t due to our parting.

It’s been weeks since we’ve left Tune Town, and East Blue is quiet as ever so there hasn’t been much going. I'm, however, told that we’ll be dropping by an Island that serves good food. East Blue cuisines are a bit too heavy for me but Cadog insisted that it's simply my taste bud that's the problem.

I humbly disagree, hardtack and water alongside mites are a fine meal on its own.

Nevertheless, it’s these quiet, boring days I find rather pleasant as I’ve not recall seeing such peace in other seas. My hometown included.

It might be months by the time this letter reaches you. I have many things to share, alongside stories on the Dev, the greater part of the world.

Such as the legend of the Dragonslayer of Wano, forty seven bandits, and felling of the Mountain God.

But for now, I’m healthy and hale, and I wish the same for you, Peppermint, the kids and Mr. Burnet.

Signed
Haku

Positively ecstatic, she was already considering what her response might be before remembering she was getting ahead of herself: she had to show Burnet and Peppermint the letter too! Rereading it, her mind wandered to earlier in the day. The letter in her hand gave her an idea, a way she might find the answer to her question. She just had to ask! If there was anyone who would know why kings were holy, it would be the Godheads of this world themselves!

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@Lord Wraith Did...did you just make an app for Blood so you could backdoor Danny Phantom?

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

A hand running across his thick moustache, the bounty hunter pressed a hefty thumb from his other hand into the socket of his skull shaped belt buckle, a light flashing. “Alright, girlie, we gonna do this the easy way or the fun way? I don’t got all day.” Koriand’r didn’t recognize him, but his size and skin tone were well beyond the vast diversity she’d seen in this corner of the planet. She could tell that he was just as much as an alien to this place as her at a glance.

“Hey buddy, what the fuck is wrong with you?” the uniformed local backed off half a step from the bounty hunter and the fallen food stand, clearly rattled, before drawing a handheld piece of iron and aiming it at the interloper. “Spread ‘em, fuckface!”

Koriand’r broke out in a sweat, baffled that he would choose violence so quickly. “Por favor, lower your weapon!” Despite her words of caution, she herself stepped back, not wanting to be in the path of danger.

“Power trippin’ putzes on all worlds huh?” He rolled his red eyes before grabbing at a short staff tipped with a hook. He tapped a finger to his cheek. “You got something on your face. Hold on: let me get that for you.” His words turned sinister as she grinned, pointing the hook towards the man’s face. With the flick of his thumb, the hook shot off. There was a spurt of red blood, the man’s head scattered about, the hook continuing on before landing on the hood of a vehicle, digging into the metal. “The name’s Lobo! Get it through your fraggin’ skulls!” The onlookers had taken steady caution when weapons were drawn, but now there was a full on panic. Screams rang out as those nearby scattered in search of safety.

As Lobo pulled his hook back, dragging the car with it a short ways before it dislodged, Koriand’r’s eyes were stuck on the fresh corpse. Just moments ago she feared him, and now he was gone. Koriand’r wasn’t estranged from violence. She’d had fellows in war take the hit for her and meet their end. They were mourned, but they had died for a fight that was still not over. Koriand’r couldn’t linger on them forever, even as the scenes chased through her mind in the night before she found rest. But this man wasn’t a soldier. He shouldn’t have been embroiled in this intergalactic conflict at all. He was a civilian, endangered because of her. Though they were not in her royal domain, the responsibility of a would be ruler still weighed heavy on Koriand’r’s shoulders, its burden overpowered by the righteous fury burning in her heart and in her hands.

“Alright, where were we? Uh-” Lobo’s word was cut in two as Koriand’r fist, blazing with green flame, knocked right into his jaw. Lifting up from the ground, he flew back, crashing into a small errant piece of painted metal, the yellow bending and breaking under his bulk, water raging out in a torrent. Wiping at his mouth, he snarled, “Raggin’ fraggin’- that hurt! You made me bite my tongue! Keezy fem!” Koriand’r raised her foot, slamming the heel on the dull metal handheld device he’d held earlier to track her movements. It shattered. She took a fighting stance, eyes and hands ablaze. Lobo’s eyes flashed, his teeth bared like a beast. “I had to put down a deposit for that!”

Boots pushing against the ground, he charged like a Gordanian tank. Koriand’r stuck true, floating just off the ground and planting both her heels into his face, energy blasting off her hands to push her off the air in lieu of the ground. Koriand’r might have felt the impact in her knees (much like she had struck a tank), but Lobo buckled, falling to a kneeling position, stars floating about his eyes. Koriand’r shot her fists out, unleashing a rapid flurry. He shook his head and stood like nothing was happening, the fists merely lapping against him like waves to a shore. He swiped an arm out, but she had flown overhead, the strike going wide. Completing her leap, she landed behind him hands first, buckling down before launching herself back up, one leg going straight into his back. Lobo took one step forward, then pushed both of his shoulder blades back. Bending her knees, she struck one more time. There was a sickening ‘crack’. Lobo righted himself, rolling his shoulders as Korinad’r hopped back to her feet. “Aw yeah, that’s the stuff.” Koriand’r froze as Lobo raised his arm and swung it down. Normally, the strike possessing no martial training whatsoever would have been trivial to dodge, but Koriand’r had been stunned at the realization that her strongest blows accomplished nothing more than chiropractic therapy. She crumpled to the ground in a heap, limbs bent in odd directions. Lobo raised his foot, but Koriand’r slipped away in a moment of hesitation, rolling to her feet and flying out of arm’s reach.

Hiding his grimace (poorly), Lobo reasoned, “Hey, I’m supposed to take you alive. I’m not gonna break you! Much.” Thoughts racing, she weighed her options. The tracking device was shattered, Lobo landlocked and nearly invulnerable, the immediate area evacuated. She had no plan, but she knew there had to be opportunity, if she could find it. Green tracing behind her, she flew off. “Oh come on!”

Streaking across the cityscape, a mass of blurred colors flying by, she slowed her pace, trying to focus as she scanned for anything she could use for an advantage. She knew that at some point in her path she might come across the ocean. Tamaranians needed much less oxygen than some other races, and could even traverse the vacuum of space for a period of time. A protracted underwater fight might render him unconscious.

The hopeful thought was dashed when she heard the revving of a chronium engine. Korinad’r looked over her shoulder to see a red eyed skull encroaching on her, the headpiece to an open spacecraft, Lobo mounted in its seat, holding onto the handles with a vile smirk on his face. The primary purpose of chromium in powering vehicles was interplanetary transport, the minimal size of the craft making traversal even easier. If Lobo could fly through the vacuum of space on that craft, then Koriand’r’s plan was shot before it had even started. “You could at least banter more! That’s half the fun!” Kori made him eat a starbolt for his trouble.

Continuing her volley, the spacecraft continued to get closer and closer, Lobo meeting every bolt on the chin. Aiming to disable the engine, she was shocked to see Lobo lower his elevation, taking the starbolt in the forearm instead. She shot a few more, watching as he either dodged or blocked them himself. He realized her target, his face going darker than she’d seen it yet. “If you touch the bike, we’re gonna have problems. You don’t want problems, do ya?”

“You are already quite enough of a problema as it is!”

“...Aw, you can do better than that.” Aiming his hook her way, she kept to an erratic flight path. The hook came, Koriand’r dodging it handily and grabbing the chain once it reached the apex of its flight. Lobo tried to reel it in while Koriand’r banked suddenly, looping around a rooftop construct: a cylinder on stilts with a cone shaped cap. Lobo’s bike jerked, the torque of the chain being pulled nearly sending him off. He and Koriand’r kept a grip on the weapon, but rather than disarm or dismount him, it was neither of the two of them that broke first. The metal construct began to cave in, before cracking and bursting, water spilling out of the tower. The chain going free as it sliced through, Korinad’r sped along only to lose grip, hurtling end over end before slamming into the concrete wall of a building, plummeting to the ground where she met the surface. She started to get to her feet as Lobo’s craft hovered down, the massive man stepping off to loom over her.

Kori muttered in her frustration, “Why do the people of this planet build to contain their water when there is an entire ocean so close by?” Lobo paused, thinking on it for half a moment before giving a lazy shrug. Aiming his hook at her, her eyes scanned the area, desperately seeking a way out even as her heart collapsed in surrender at this seemingly indomitable foe.

“You broke my tracker so this is gonna be a pain in the zazz. _{*badup badup*} And I still got 6 more Tamaranians, 3 Glxians, _{*badup badup*} and one pissed off Jovian to take care of. So, *badup badup* are you gonna be good, or-” Lobo was launched sideways, a mass of bone, muscle, and fur slamming into him. Koriand’r blinked at the out of place beast and his dark green fur and horns propped up on thin legs with cloven hooves, only for her eyes to widen further as it shrunk down, taking Tamarinoid form of one on this planet, excluding the continued green pigmentation. The boy shook his head, regaining himself while Lobo stood, snarling. He looked to Koriand’r. “You’re not secretly evil and planning to take over Earth or anything, right?”

“Ummmm, noooo?

“Infested with a disease? Being followed by a planet eater? Hosting magic parasites?”

“I most certainly hope not!”

“Okay, good.”

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

---

The evening was chilly but Jean was burning up. Her sweat beaded and breath came hard as she muttered into the phone, “B-Burnside Park! He’s overdosing!”

The fallen addict’s phone trembled in her hand. “Okay ma’am, are either of you carrying any naloxone? Or any other opioid overdose medication?”

Jean’s gloved hand felt around. “No!” When she cooled down she’d leave a mental not to carry some around. Following the operators instructions, she was able to restore his breathing with some clumsy CPR and put him on his side, using some floating flames to keep him warm until she saw the light from sirens approaching. The EMTs arrived to find the alleyway otherwise empty, Jean watching from above for a moment before flying off.

At another park she took some water from the fountain, recharging herself mentally, washing out her mouth, and rinsing her face off. Already tired she was prepared to just go home, losing hope and feeling like time was being wasted. She knew it wasn’t true: this wasn’t the first time she’d possibly saved a life. She’d halted a prospective home invasion by psychically taking away the offending firearm, forcing the robber to retreat. But she’d also been too slow to stop a stabbing and too fearful to use her own phone to call it in, instead carefully moving the victim to somewhere they could be easily seen after pressing the wound closed with her mind, then lighting a fire in a garbage can. She still didn’t know what had happened to them.

She wasn’t thinking about giving up, certainly not entirely, but her value in symbols might have been getting in the way of her doing real good. It shouldn’t matter if she was a ‘mutant with a conscience’ floating around helping people or a superhero, but in her head that made the difference between a rando with no idea what they were doing and someone who really could make the difference. That said, even in her green and gold, she would still only be pretending to know what she was doing.

Worrying about Nathan, she started to float home for the night to get some rest (if she was lucky). But an errant thought from a ways off crossed her mind and fluttered her heart. Floating over, she found a currently vacant residence, it was lived in but not populated, not by its owners. Jean waited in the air above until a figure crawled out, freshly showered and fed off water and food that was not his. Floating down to the green skinned boy, she blurted, “Hey.”

He jumped, reflexively lashing an arm out before running away. Jean took the slap across the face, mental resigning herself to the fact that she deserved that before giving chase. Well, ‘chase’ was a bit of an overstatement, she just floated after him after going up a little in elevation. She watched him scamper over fences and through stretches of backyards in the rundown neighborhood. Once the first dog started barking the whole block was up in paws. The mutant boy hopped into the wrong yard, a snarling bulldog bearing down on him only to lose traction with the ground, whimpering as it floated away. The boy was bewildered but moved along, finally reaching a completely condemned house, slipping into the basement. Jean easily followed. She led with her voice, “I’m not going to hurt you, or turn you in. I just want to talk.”

Lit by an LED lantern, the abode was more than humble. Littered with stolen clothes and blankets as a ramshackle carpet over the concrete, there was an array of stolen devices and electronics. Jean caught some tools, noting that a number of them were under repair, taken from the garbage. A few cockroaches and rats scampered away while the boy grabbed a serrated knife, aiming it her way. Jean raised her hands. “I’m not coming closer!”

“Then get the fuck out!”

“Can we talk?” She pulled her red hair out of her collar and watched the boy’s yellow eyes flash with recognition, then a familiar anger.

Throwing down the knife in frustration, the boy growled, “Here to mindfuck me again bitch?”

“I didn’t...I shouldn’t have done that, I know, but I didn’t want you to hurt anyone! And I didn’t know what to do on short notice! If you were seen it would have been even worse.”

“I FUCKING KNOW THAT!” His voice echoed in the small chamber. “No one wants to see me. Can you tell why? Can you fucking guess?” Jean winced, eyes going off in another direction for a moment. “FUCKING LOOK AT ME!”

Jean locked her eyes in, taking a breath. “I’m sorry, I worded that badly. I just- I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I want to help you.”

“You want to make me your fucking pity project? I don’t need your fucking help. The inhibitors don’t make me look normal. You can’t help me: no one can help me. I can take care of my fucking self. Doing a great job so far.”

“No, I can see that. You’re good with electronics, huh?”

The boy paused. Anger was still very evident, but the compliment seemed to have slipped through a crack. “...There’s a pawn shop that lets me sell to them. I only...” He stopped, shaking his head, “I ain’t telling you shit. Get the fuck out already.”

“Well, can I come back, just to talk a little more?”

There was a low rumble in his throat. “Would I be able to stop you?” To prove his point, he grabbed a pair of MP3 players and hurled them at her, the two devices stopping in midair, floating back to their original spot on the shelf. “The more you stay away from me the better off I’ll be.”

“Look, I want to help you. My husband and son are mutants too. I want this world to be better for all of us. But if I can’t even help one local kid then I don’t know what I’ll ever be capable of if I put on a cape and go out there myself.”

“You’re going to become a superhero? Pfft,” he laughed to himself, turning away and finding a spot on the ground to lie on.

“Well I don’t think I was literally going to wear a cape, but yes. I...can I get your name?”

Reclining, he bitterly answered, “Can’t you just fuck around in my head and find out?”

“I want to know, but it’s not worth hurting you over.”

Silence, then, “Leech. Cuz I’m a fucking parasite, good enough for you?”

Despite herself, she caught the truth floating on his surface thoughts. James Rowan. She kept that to her chest. “Okay, I’ll see you again tomorrow. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“What, the superhero bitch not gonna take me in for stealing?”

“I mean, I’d rather you not, but taking property is different from taking lives.” She didn’t need to see his face to tell he rolled his eyes. Floating from the basement entrance, Jean went up and out into the night sky, hope and anxiety mingling within her. She later kissed Nathan goodnight and fell asleep leaning against his crib, until his early morning whining woke her before the alarm did.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

Well, you cooooould give my posts more reacts to activate my monkey brain neurons. It won't lead to me posting more (I have that more than covered) but bweeeee react go BRRRRR.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

This time was within 10 minutes! :3

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

@Pacifista at this point you're just reacting and not even reading them aren't you? You're just messing with me.

@Sep

I would never! React on a post I haven't read, that is. Messing with you is merely a by-product.

Ultimate One Universe: Emergence

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The small metal chamber was barely lit, monitor displays blinking under the flashing of a red light. A few bars and meters seemed to be low, but the lone occupant of the cramped space was paying them no mind whatsoever. Sitting in the chair that made up nearly the whole of the room, the red haired young woman had her eyes closed. Her hands, feet, and waist were trapped in heavy metal restraints, and a collar with a number of tubes bound her to the seat by her neck. There was liquid in them, but it was growing thin. With a pneumatic hiss, they released, the girl slumping in her chair. She had just begun to stir when the chamber began to open. Water spilled through the hatch, the girl waking with a start and a gasp. Taking stock of the situation, she moved decisively, kicking off from the seat and into the water. Split between deep blue and light, her arms and legs pumped until she broke the surface, a blue sky awaiting her. Green eyes squinting against a yellow sun, she treaded water for a moment before breaking from its surface entirely. Water dripping from her tall form, the silver trim of her purple leggings and leotard caught the sunlight, her long red locks swaying with every turn of her head, splashing water about. She ran her hands across her body, testing her silver bracers before raising her hand. Her eye glowed green before her hand did, a matching blast of energy vaulting into the sea. Relaxing a little, she ran her fingers through her hair before her hand found itself on the back of her neck. A small black diamond had been etched into the top of her spine, a brand in the skin. She frowned, falling back a little, floating in parallel with the unknown salty sea.

Koriand’r of Tamaran was free without being free. Her prison ship had malfunctioned, her captors branding and sealing away their cargo. She could only infer that she’d been sent off to the nearest habitable world to be retrieved later. How long could it have been? Her life support could no longer sustain her and thus had to release her before she could be retrieved. Her heart sank as she imagined the Gordanians swooping upon her, a fear that had her eyes shooting open, only to get another view of the wide empty sky, lacking in floating cities or starfleets. She wondered what other prisoners had been released onto this world, but that thought was quickly replaced by a curiosity: what was this world?

Righting herself relative to the world’s gravity, she shot upward, eyes scanning the horizon until she saw a mass of gray. By the time she reached the landmass, green trees and fields of gold stretching before her past a sheer rock wall. Touching her heeled boots to the ground, though to foliage was of different shape and color, it was still reminiscent of the lush green fields of her home that hadn’t been torn by war. Growing curiouser and curiouser, she took to the air again. A strange black streak caught her eye, weaving through the landscape. It was hard like stone, presumably processed. She didn’t care for its scent, like heat and oil, an archaic fuel source used by Tamaran in its history. She hoped it was an artifact: a remnant of this planet’s past civilization. But Kori was perhaps too hopeful. Her optimism was shattered with a blaring noise like the roar of a makango. She looked up to see a bright, two eyed beast with a shiny red shell barreling at her. She was out of the way in moments, soaring through the air as a painful shrieking noise was joined by an acrid scent even worse than that of the stone. A head poked out of the side, Tamaranoid (albeit with much darker skin tone and hair color), looking around, before they got out and kept up their search, checking a ditch on the side of the pathway. Kori, more than wary, kept to the blind spot, using the local’s vehicle as cover or moving high out of sight, until they lost interest and returned to their vehicle, moving on with their day. Koriand’r realized her mistake with a giggle: it was a road for transportation of these slow vehicles. If the inhabitants of this world didn’t have much better, then Koriand’r would have little hope of leaving without the Gordanians finding her, but it also meant their information network couldn’t reach here, allowing her some respite. With the road as her guide, finding civilization was no difficult matter.

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Koriand’r didn’t grasp any of it, but she didn’t mind it one bit. The air was filthy from the exhaust of their vehicles (more common than their people, it seemed). She was hesitant to use her means of understanding the local language, unfamiliar with the culture, but it may be a sacrifice she’d have to make. As she walked along the roads, she caught plenty of attention and stares. The small rectangular devices in their hands were often pointed her way, making her nervous. Tamaranians weren’t exactly the most well traveled in the reaches of the galaxy, so the girl standing above the average man or woman (much taller in some cases) in clothing much more upscale than the cheap and flimsy fabrics they were wearing was catching attention Kori couldn’t blame them for. This regard wouldn’t have been too unusual in plenty of neighborhoods back at home. Tamran had a number of fashions, but as royalty she was expected to keep to a certain array of colors befitting her position, and had been captured while in her battle dress, which would catch plenty of attention back home in any place other than the battlefield or palace. There was a bit of envy as she looked over the residents of this world in the varied colors and shapes of their outfits. Had she the time or money she’d have liked to try some out. A few of the folk tried to speak to her, so she smiled at them, hoping it was still a social sign of good faith on this world, and not, say, and expression of fear or loathing. At the very least it didn’t seem to aggravate any of her small interactions.

Just as she was starting to feel a bit tired mentally, her stomach’s hunger catching up with her, she was accosted by a slightly shorter man with dark coverings obscuring his eyes and slicked back yellow hair. His words were beyond Kori’s comprehension, and he was waving a paper card at her her with more text she couldn’t read. She couldn’t quite tell his mood: was he elated, or angry? And if he was angry, was there a problem? She felt a burning sensation on the back of her neck. It was not the tracking chip installed: she knew it was purely a psychological response of her own. Keeping out of arms reach, she floated upwards to a few gasps and shouts. The man’s jaw and card dropped to the ground. Kori didn’t linger on it for too much longer, floating off to an area with more quiet and hopefully more food. If they had nothing edible for her on this world then she wasn’t sure how she was going to cope...

The planet’s star was rather high in the sky, Koriand’r watching it lackadaisically from her seat on top a small building with a faint rancid smell in a secluded area of nature. Her mood was rather sour, her constant skywatch based in a reasonable fear. Yet, there was something more at odds with her. The masses of people roaming about, the vague interest in herself despite being a foreign body, the vast resources that seemed to be in use: these small, ignorant peoples were peaceful. The shadow of war was not on this doorstep. Had a neighborhood of Tamaran had this level of peace, it would be far louder with rancorous celebration in joy of life. They were simply existing, going about a day to day in ways Kori could hardly assume or predict without war to prepare for in one way or another. She was still hesitant to engage in her knowledge transfer, still afraid. She’d never done it with one outside of her race before. The Gordanians would attempt to bite of her lips should she try. Those of this world were complete unknowns: what would she learn about them? What would they learn about her? Were there ways they could call the Gordanians after all? Was trying to understand these people courting fate, or was she just meandering about in the face of inevitability?

There was a cry in the locale language. Kori looked down to see a red shape heading her way. Snatching the disc out of midair, she investigated it, not recognizing the scratched and faded artwork emblazoned on it. The material was stiff, but not completely inpliable. She didn’t test it, as the young juvenile of this planet would have likely been distraught if she were to break it. She tossed it back like she might a Nuvanian fragmentation grenade, but it only flopped awkwardly, not moving the same despite vaguely similar shapes due to the weight not matching at all. The child laughed. Koriand’r smiled, glad that there was yet another constant, another familiarity between the two cultures so distant. She didn’t understand his words but she watched him mime the proper throw. A brown beast roughly his size stood on all fours next to him, covered in fur with a tongue lolling out, creating a stupid yet cute expression. The boy had no fear of it, so she assumed it wasn’t harmful. He threw the discus properly, and it sailed through the air until his beast reached it, having run straight for it and nabbed it from the air. The boy wrestled with him for a moment, taking the disc back before tossing it Koriand’r’s way. It went a little wide, so she floated from the rooftop and caught it before it touched the ground. The boy yelled out in fright, or surprise perhaps, looking at her with wide eyes but not reacting negatively. Koriand’r took a chance, giving the disc a good toss. In her great strength, she used a bit too much force, the disc catching the air and flipping upwards. Grabbing it again, she used a bit more grace, making an elegant toss and finally letting it fly, the beast running after it. With smiles and laughter, the three of them continued to play with the disc until Koriand’r’s stomach reached its breaking point. Once again she’d been humbled, forced to beat back her own hubris and ignorance. Aliens as they might be (to her of course, to them it was she who was the alien), her fear was the thing most holding her back from connecting to any of them. The future was full of reasons to be anxious, but all of life was transient, and it should be enjoyed as much as possible.

Returning to the city’s hustle and bustle, her nose picked up a rare scent that wasn’t noxious. Observing a metal podium with lines of heat radiating off of it and a covering on a pole shielding it from the rays of the planet’s star, she saw that the woman’s creations would indeed be consumed. Approaching, she apologized in her native language before leaning down and taking the middle-aged woman by the shoulder, leaning in and meeting lips. She let out a cry of fright, arms flailing before Kori pulled away. “I do apologize! Yo esperaba my behavior to be inappropriate, pero era necesario.”

“What is wrong with you!? ¡Capulla!” Though the words were harsh and angry, Koriand’r felt a wave of relief, glad to simply understand them.

“I wish to procure one of these artículos alimenticios.” She pointed at the flat surface where cylinders of processed meat and foodstuffs of other shapes and colors cooked.

The merchant looked at her with wide eyes. “Then pay, stupid. There’s a line! ¡Apúrate!”

Koriand’r’s face fell slightly. “Este establecimiento not accept account numbers from Interplanetary Banking?”

The stare she received might have gouged through the infamously dense iron heart of a Pholathian draz mole. “Fucking LA. Oi, officer! Can you get rid of this puta imbécil? She’d holding up my business.”

Sorting through the words she couldn’t quite parse, Koriand’r started to get nervous as a blue uniformed man approached, black coverings over his eyes (a fashion choice Koriand’r was finding it hard to take in good faith). He looked up and down the tall woman, before asking, “What seems to be the issue?”

“I’m simply seeking food...”

“She can’t pay, make her leave!”

The hand of a fourth party reached over, grabbing the pole of the large shield and pulling it aside, the whole podium on wheels taking a tumble, the lady letting out a cry before scampering a few feet away. A handheld device beeped repeatedly, its dull metal pointed straight at Koriand’r. A pair of red eyes met hers from above. She was within the bounds of typical height for those of this planet, but this man was easily two heads over her. His skin was white like a Pax’ilian wraithworm, black markings about his eyes. A vest hung over his hair speckled chest, and his belt buckle’s emblem was in the shape of a fanged skull. The shock of long, coarse dark hair hanging back shook as he moved his head down to her with a leer. He cracked a smile. “Kond olo, bastiche.”