Dawn of the Final Week

What a world this dimension was. How crisp and clean the air was, how green Earth was compared to his home, how vibrant, how stunning!

 It was hard to really appreciate it after being thrown into the chaos of Kobberdom, dealing with a rain of evil lobsters and all. But with the Planeswardens focused on rebuilding during this oddly quiet time, Troy had all the time in the world to get used to his new surroundings. It was a good change of pace from staying in one spot providing missions like some sort of NPC questgiver, and definitely better than venturing out into a wasteland full of snow-like soot that clogs filters with ease.

He found himself wandering through the streets, taking in all the sights, letting nothing but his instincts guide him around. His heart raced with excitement as he passed by playgrounds, found stores in little crannies with knick knacks he would buy in a heartbeat if he didn't have any restraint, and listened to buskers bust out their best moves, their best music. An atmosphere like that couldn't be beat, he thought.

Nothing could compare to how Melissa was handling it, however. While he basically oggled at everything, she felt right at home, zipping from one place to another. Troy would bump into her casually as she skated and balanced a stack of pizzas in her hands. "Heeeeeey Troooooooooooooy!" she would shout, voice fading as she rocketed farther and farther away. He would always wonder how the hell any sort of food stayed balanced in her palm like that, but dared not ask the question in fear of Mel twisting herself into a pretzel trying to explain it. She always smiled while doing deliveries, always coming back to HQ humming happily as she snacked on freshy baked muffins. She seemed to learn Olympia back to front, as trips around Olympia with her were planned, the punk never getting lost while Troy sometimes found himself in a dangerous alleyway or in an abandoned warehouse district.

Six months of relaxing and learning everything there was to know. Six months... and now, Dia dropped the news on them.

"Oh, on May 1st, the Kobbers are gonna be back in Olympia!" she announced to the duo in Melissa's room, Mel leaning in to listen as Troy tinkered with a mantid robot in the corner. "We're meeting up in Valhalla, which is kind of our base of operations... kinda. We're gonna be back on duty then, since most threats seem to arise more often when they're involved. Ladeca, too, will probably strike too, for more reasons than one."

Troy rose his head up from his work as he asked, "Because you guys stopped one of her top guys, right? That, and one of her minions is on our side, so all the more reason to get aggressive."

"She can't be that stupid though, right?" Mel asked as she nibbled on a muffintop. "She probably saw you guys go BAM, BOOM, BAP on her priest, so she wouldn't get reckless! Like, she's totally a slow, calculating, 'hahaha I have so many gambits it doesn't matter if you take out just one!' kinda long term jerk!"

Dia tapped a finger on her chin, tilting her head as she replied, "Based on what we know, we would believe she'd be more cautious... However, she probably knows we're scouting her home dimension. She knows we're trying to find her and set both Kobbers and Planeswardens on her. We have someone who knows her well, as well as people who have been directly harmed by her actions. She can't remain passive and trying to manipulate us for much longer, especially now that she's gotten on the Kobbers' bad side."

"But, like, she isn't THAT desperate, is she? Like, she took her sweet time dismantling our sect from the inside, and I bet she did the same in her verse. She can just hide and try again later!"

Dia shot Mel a serious look that made both Mel and Troy shudder. "You don't know the extent of the Kobbers' wrath, do you?"

Troy winced at the very thought. "I'm gonna go out on a limb based on what I've seen and say that nothing survives the onslaught."

"Exactly. They know a threat, especially if it involves one of their own, and they turn it into a pulp. Ladeca might be cautious and try to lay low, but she knows with enough searching, we'll find her. We're betting that she'll try something to take us off guard and distract us away from her, or split us apart and try to take us down one by one. Anything to stall us just enough to try to get complete control."

"And that plan, if we play our cards right, is going to lead to her downfall," Troy said, his smirk hidden behind his mask.

His smirk didnt' even compare with Dia's, however, "If? You're still underestimating the Kobbers, Phreak~"

He slumped in his corner and shrugged. "Jeez, I only got here on the tail end of their sheenanigans! How am I supposed to know how nuts they can get?"

"Weeeell, you COULD start by reading the Kobber Blogger..."

"But my daily strolls-"

"You have time management skills, don't you?"

"But-"

Before Phreak could protest, a lightbulb went off in Mel's head, her eyes sparkling as she said, "Oooh, before we really worry about things, we should, like, do some neat stuff around Olympia! Like roller skating and arcades and food stall crawls! Like a group bonding activity!"

"You're only saying that last bit because you want to try a little bit of everything," Troy pointed out as he waggled a finger.

Mel was unfazed, barreling on with, "Oh, and we can check out that massage parlor place! Group massages and spa treatments and stuff! Maybe Troy can get a facial-"

"No thanks, I don't feel like murdering someone with my Ugly Barnacle face-"

"-and, like, we'll feel all super refreshed so we can kick some ass!" Mel stopped to breathe and think for a second before she added, "OH! We should definitely go to a zoo, too! I mean, Troy probably hasn't seen a real tiger in aeons! And pandas! And dinosaurs!"

"I don't know how any of that's related, and I can just see streams of them online-"

"BUT DINOSAURS, TROY!" Mel finally blurted out as she turned to her friend. "You can't see dinosaur streams ANYWHERE! They're, like, totally beyond extinct where we're at! Nonexistent! Like, that meteor OBLITERATED them!"

Dia tilted her head again, then straightened up as a smile formed on her face. "InGen did seem like they were starting to work on a zoo specifically for dinosaurs, though admitedly they're strapped for space. They might host one on one of lesser known islands around Kuwahawi with permission, but nobody's sure about it yet. When it does open, though, we should definitely take a day off to visit!"

Mel was vibrating in place, nearly exploding with excitement. "It's a deal, then! We're gonna take this whooole week to chillax and go places! AND get spa treatments! AND see the zoo!"

"Aaaand maybe see a robot exhibit?" Troy added, albeit unsure if anyone else had an interest. "I did hear about this Battledome doing a Robot Wars thing, sooo best way to get hype is to look at stuff like that. That, and Matilda needs to stroll around unless she wants some rust on her wheels."

"Oooh, good one! I never saw those things in person so we gotta check it out! OOOH, DIA, YOU GOTTA MEET MATILDA, SHE'S SO NEAT AND-"

Melissa's hype was infectious, the trio bouncing ideas for their final week of fun. There was many a thing to worry about, for sure. Where their own leader was, dealing with Ladeca, finding out more about the Heart Rod and how to counteract Dark Matter. Such things were heavy enough to keep Troy up at night. However, he resolved to push such thoughts out of his mind until things became more active. Now was the time to enjoy the best of what Olympia had to offer with friends.

He couldn't help but wonder, though... how DID things start off on May 1st? With a bang and a boom? Did monsters just show up on day one? Or maybe there was a bar brawl on the first day fighting over who was there first? He had so many questions about the Kobber lifestyle.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

InGen's Rebirth

Like the mightiest of Rexes, InGen was in a rut bigger than they could have possibly imagined.

It was difficult enough navigating through all the changes after Dr. Wu was arrested. He was the de facto leader of InGen, the face, the one who negotiated with the big names and gangs. Not only that, his knowledge of genetics and creating dinosaurs with "more teeth" was top notch, something his juniors couldn't accomplish without aid. Losing him was more akin to losing a head, the lower ranks scrambling to find someone willing to lead.

Worse yet, there were other businesses snapping up resources. They didn't have enough access to more vicious dinosaur DNA. Nobody was willing to take a chance to maybe get a tiny blood sample from even Sue's Ceratosaurus and raptors, nevermind get even the teeniest of blood samples from Rexy. They were too heavily guarded, too dangerous to approach. They had other, odder DNA for mass reproduction, but nothing they were 100% sure would pique the interest of their new parent company, nevermind others wishing to buy their products. No one comes to get an Iguanadon or a large array of sea scorpions in a flying city.

Their saving grace right now was that they were scooped up by CarverCorp... but not by much. It meant they would keep afloat, but their resources were further dwindled by CarverCorps' scientists grabbing whatever DNA they could find for their own splicing experiments. InGen was nothing more than a supplier to them, investing only enough that the company could outbid others for DNA and research on what could possibly suit their parent company's needs at the time.

With no central leadership aside from the demands from CarverCorp, teams bickered about how to proceed.

"Look, we go find that dumb factory Rexy died in, then we can scrape all the blood and get the DNA samples!" one said as he made a very complex diagram of how to go about this. "It's not like that stupid frog cares what happens! We need the more fierce predators, the DANGEROUS ones. CarverCorp wants to experiment with more things like the Carnotaurus! Giving them something even bigger is bound to get us some bonus checks!"

Another shook her head as she said, "Who's to say he hasn't already demolished the factory? What we should be doing is showcasing more rare, cunning species. Bring in the oversized spiders, the giant dragonflies, those that came waaaay before the dinosaurs!"

"But they thrived off an oxygen rich environment! How are they going to sustain themselves?"

"I dunno, throw a pinch of magic in there or something!"

"We're SCIENTISTS, not WIZARDS, Sonja-"

A door flung open, silencing the bickering team as someone strutted in, unimpressed. She towered over most of her collegues, some of them flinching at the sight of her as she brushed her long, black hair back. Others were more distracted by her entourage of what looked like a floating bean painted like a pink easter egg, and an equally pink creature whom some might quickly compare to "that one Kobber elf. No, not the jealous one." And one in particular glared daggers at her, his face twisted into a fierce scowl.

"Oh look, it's the resident turncoat," he said as he crossed his arms. "Weren't you given the pink slip, Tori?"

Before he could continue, she interrupted him and said, "Yeah, no shit, dingus. I was actually having a great time being an actual professor over making KobberFucker9000."

The man's face turned beet red as he shouted, "Indoraptor was PERFECT for taking them on, and you know it! It was abso-"

"-lutely flawless, eh?" Tori scoffed and leaned on the wall, the bean hovering behind her and quivering a bit as the other creature tried to comfort it. "Yeah, sure! Perfectly good fodder for some other schmucks to beat its ass." She placed a finger on her chin and thought for a moment before she added, "If you can't even beat Death then you certainly aren't gonna beat a Kobber. I'm just surprised the defect it had didn't kill it first."

"Perhaps if you weren't doddling about and raising objections over an ally and actually bothered to AID us-"

Another colleague jumped in between them as Tori approached, almost ready to smack him. "H-hey, um, yeah, that didn't go well, but before we get fiesty, uh... why are you here, Tori? You were fired."

Tori saw the angry man open his mouth again and glared at him hard enough that he backed off before looking her friendlier colleague in the eye. "Higher ups were basically at a loss. Wu's stupid ass did five million illegal as shit things, including recreating a psychic dinosaur on life support, and they really just want to be an independent company again instead of tied to Carvercorp at the hip. And, well, guess who got invited right back in?"

The smug look was enough for the man to approach her and shout at her, in spite of his colleague holding him back.

"You nearly cost us an alliance with The Curse with your damned beliefs! You weren't focused on defeating the one force that stopped us from conquering Olympia! You're a damn traitor, a stupid Pokemaniac who didn't give a shit about the comp-"

The moment his spittle flew on her face was the very moment her fist connected with his nose. A loud CRACK, and he was on the floor, several scientists gathering around him to make sure he was okay.

"You guys actually thought working with the filthiest scum this planet has to offer was for the good of the company?" she snarled. "Fine, how the hell did that turn out? Oh, it was all a ploy for some lobster with an ego the size of Uranus to try to take over the world. Yeah, real good stuff for the company, possibly being enslaved by Lobster Overlords!

I warned you guys the moment you started getting involved: joining a mysterious gang with a member as vicious as Giovanni? It wasn't going to end well. Nothing he's involved in ends well, and I know because I've dealt with scum like him. The only way things would have been worse is if Plague fucking had Ghetsis in Giovanni's place.

We're not going to deal with that shit anymore. Wu fucked it up for all of us, and now we're going to have to dig ourselves out. It won't be easy, especially since we're gonna have to kiss CarverCorp's ass for a while before we find a way to split." She looked over to one of her Pokemon for a moment, then over to her whimpering colleague as she said, "Audi, heal him. Slap him if he tries anything funny, though."

Audi saluted and waddled over, holding her little hands over the man's face as she unleashed a pulse. A sickening CRACK happened as his nose went back in place, any bleeding stopping, any pain ebbing away. In spite of that, though, many of Tori's colleagues were glaring back at her.

"You didn't have to go that far!"

"Way to be a total dick, dude."

"Y-you could have just been a bit more stern..."

Tori rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm not tolerating any of his shit. If he doesn't like the ideas I'm proposing, he's free to go to CarverCorp's lab crew and suck them off. I'm not here to follow in Wu's footsteps, I'm not here to AVENGE THE CURSE, and I'm DEFINITELY not here to try to murder a force that's proven, since the Vegas years, that cannot be stopped. Especially not when they could save our bacon with the rut we've gotten ourselves into.

I'm here for three things: exposing enough of CarverCorp's dirty laundry to free us from their clutches, actually researching some of these ancient beasts, and making some stupidass abominations. Both for CarverCorp and for our defense."

They continued to glare at her, though one colleague asked, "Well, that's nice, but we don't have the DNA abundance we used to have. We keep getting outbid by another genetics company..."

A smirk crossed Tori's face. "Well, that won't be a problem. Because we have stuff that other genetics companies can't even get." She snapped her fingers and called out, "Deedee! Bring in the samples!"

It was strange, seeing a more goth Audi walk in with a suitcase, which she gently set on a table with psychic powers and opened it up. Each and every vial was labled, and as the scientists gathered to look, their eyes widened at just what Tori brought.

"P-Pokemon DNA?" the man sputtered in disbelief. "F-from Kanto to the Galar regions...?!"

Tori couldn't help but grin devilishly. "Yep. Enough to make some crazy fusions. I have fossils, too, so fossil pokemon aren't out of our reach. Give me some more time to check out archeaological search sites and I might be able to get some DNA samples of some dinosaurs too, while I'm at it. In the meantime, you can use those and maybe go back to the WCW days."

"...Well, there WAS a factory where Rexy died-"

Tori's grin faded for shock. "Wait, Rexy DIED?!"

"To Cuphead and Mugman, yeah, in some Secret Fiter Scuffle-"

"Oh, well that's different," Tori said with a sigh of relief. "Guessing she's back to life now, so that's a no-go for DNA."

The man interjected, "We can scrape her blood off the floor-"

Tori stared at him blankly. "Yeah, blood. That wasn't preserved. Which is probably mixed in with other people's blood, so it's not pure. And it's old. In a factory that might have been demolished."

"I-it's worth a shot!"

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, go ahead. Try to prove me wrong. But you're taking backup and if that sample's too impure, you're not fucking with it. Last thing we need is a Rexybomination who'll kill us for doing this to her. Everyone else, start studying up on your Pokemon and try not to make Sunwoop. Anyone who tries will be fired on the spot. Debbie, you're to revive the fossils and see what you can make with their DNA. And Sandra, you-"

As Dr. Tori finished giving orders, everyone scrambled to work while she looked towards Deedee with concern.

"Do you have your doubts, Mistress?" Anyone could have mistaken the voice as coming straight from the Pokemon's mouth, but in actuality, there was a collar around her neck that autotranslated her words. "This workplace seems rather, uh, dangerous."

"It'll get even more dangerous if we start rebelling against CarverCorp immediately, Deedee," Tori said as she took a seat  and slumped back as far as she could. "All we can do is take all the knowledge we got from the higher ups and see if we can get some aid digging up more dirt. It's easier to infiltrate from the inside than the outside, anyway." All the while, the pink bean Munna floated up to her, the scientist nuzzling the cute creature with gusto.

Deedee tilted her head and frowned. "I suppose, but there might be more devious machinations at work. We may be caught in something much bigger than ourselves, much like in Galar."

"Can't worry about what might happen, otherwise we'll end up paralyzed with indecision. We go with the flow and expose things as we go. All I know is that we can't do this alone: we're going to need to rely on outside help, and we have to do it discreetly."

She had to admit: she was nervous. CarverCorp was an entirely different beast than The Curse. She couldn't punch it like she wanted to do with Giovanni. There were reports buried about misdeeds and illegally making psychics out of dinosaurs, and so many angry blogposts from a dinolover about the abuses going on. It was going to be a walk on a tightrope, a balancing act. One wrong step...

No. No wrong steps. She'd have to wing it... but Tori was determined to get InGen out of the mire Dr. Wu made for them. For their sake. For everyone's sake.

The Hairy Situation

The Outer Worlds Spa was known for many things: the variety of services, the quality of the staff, and their generally inexpensive pricing. Both those with money to throw around for a whole care package and those who could only afford a few at a time could relax here and enjoy the same quality experience, with no judgement whatsoever. Its placement within the Inner City made it a little more intimidating for those in the Middle, Outer, and Undercity to travel to, one the staff hoped to at least lessen by being closer to the border between the Inner and Middle sectors.

One could be also understandably  intimidated if they walked into someone moaning, "Aah.... aaaah... Aaaaaaaaaah~!"

A smile formed on the massager's face as the very, very involved client finally decided to relax. It took some effort with hot stones,  the massager's strands of hair feeling out each and every bit of tension in the client's muscles she swiftly, firmly applied just enough pressure to be relaxing. The massager's hair frizzed up a bit, breaking into a sweat as the client moaned loud enough for others to think that there was an entirely different massage experience happening.

The client sat up, still smiling at her hero as she said, "Oh, Tammy, you're such a lifesaver! I felt like I was gonna hunch over with all that bad juju in my back~"

"Think nothing of it, my dear," Tammy responded as she regained her composure, smiling as brightly as the client. "You really needed a release-" Tamara heard a snigger from another part of the room and resisted the urge to glare at the offender- "especially with all that's been happening recently."

"Yeah, you'd think I'd be less anxious, knowing that a lobster isn't going to replace me and make a Human-eating restaurant or somethin' to avenge their fallen," the woman replied as she slipped into a shirt far too gaudy for Tammy to look at directly for too long. She had seen her fair share of supposedly fashionable shirts that offended her sensibilities in this line of work, but this woman's sense of fashion was consistently horrid and eyesearing. All the more reason to keep eye contact with her. "But with CarverCorp just up and pretending they're the new Don Genies and CRAY Computin' and InGens, tryin' to keep up with them is just the pits!" Her eyes narrowed, breaking eye contact with Tammy as she said, "And of course, there's that mysterious mayor... Who the hell voted for him? He's taxing us up the ass and we're not even seein the benefits! He ain't MY mayor, who the hell's even heard of him-"

Tamara's mind drifted off to other places as the woman complained, recalling Deathborn's speech as idly nodded her head, her long tresses slowly winding themselves up and wrapping themselves into two neat buns on the sides of her head. For all this woman's complaining and Deathborn's admittedly sudden entry into the race, he was a much better canidate than Dalton, least for Olympia's greater good. The rich already hoarded wealth like dragons, only using their expenditures for sports cars to show off, superyachts that they claimed would be gaining some sort of ability to fly, and multiple summer homes outside of Olympia. It wasn't sustainable, especially not with the Undercity in the state it was in, gangs capitalizing on the populace's weakness and anger against those in the Inner City. Least with taxes against the rich, they could use such things for infastructure and improving the lives of those down below.

Not that her client had any interest in it, still prattling on as she grabbed her wallet and handed Tamara a $100 bill. "Really, though, he's gonna make the Inner City look like the Undercity with these taxes! Watch your wallet, Tam-tam, because he might be out to get you, too! Good thing tips aren't taxed though, eeeh?"

A wink wink, nudge nudge later, her client strutted out, Tamara's eye twitching slightly as she crumped the bill in her hands. She sighed, her hair unwinding again as they extended out, grabbing all of her tools for her as she walked over to the sink to cleanse them. From the corner of her eye, she could see her coworker smirking, barely holding back a giggle.

"How were the lewds with Larissa, Tams?" she asked, said giggle escaping from her lips.

Tamara's hair frizzed up at the mere mention, the woman shooting a glare at her cohort. "Speak no more of this, Clara, or you'll be the next to deal with her."

"I'd be in it for the weird sexual tension going on, not whatever political issues she's gettin her panties in a twist for," Clara responded as she streched out and yawned. "I'd chalk it up to a weird moment, but she's done this, like, every single time!"

"Some are like that, but some tend to be worse than others." Tamara sighed. "Honestly, her views are more concerning than her odd quirk. Especially since many of our own clients have been echoing such a sentiment."

Clara frowned, curling a lock of red hair around her finger and playing with it as she responded. "Yeah. Nobody in the Inner City seems to like him too much. Can't say I entirely blame them. He did kinda come outta nowhere, and he's draining their swamp faster than they can fill it back up." She leaned against a wall and snorted. "Not that I care. I'd rather he take my tax money than Dalton."

"A dog running for mayor is better than that Dolton by miles."

"...Point taken." Clara watched as Tamara set her tools to dry after scrubbing them and sanitizing them to hell and back. "Anyway, you done for the day? I was hopin' you could grab me something real quick." Clara looked away, Tamara narrowing her eyes as her hair recoiled, feeling some sort of unease from her coworker. "I, uh, kinda left something important at home, and I have a client coming up who really, really hates the ones we keep here, and-"

"And?"

Clara flinched under Tamara's steely gaze. "I-I left the aromatherapy oils at home! The really good smelling ones, like lavender and lemon! I couldn't even convince my client that we have good ones here! Just one sniff of 'em and he turns his nose up and demands the GOOD ones I have!" Near tears, Clara put her hands together and bowed her head before her coworker as she pleaded, "Please, you gotta grab them for me! My tip depends on it!"

Tamara's look softened as she placed her hand on Clara's head. "It's quite alright, dear. I was done for the day, so it's no trouble. Though, how soon is this client arriving?"

Clara's eyes lit up for a split second before Tammy asked the question. "Oh, it's about an hour from now, so you have time! I have another client coming up soon for a waxing so I can't exactly leave." She quickly dug into her pockets and pulled out some keys, keys that Tamara quickly pocketed. "Wish I could say you could help me with this: your whole sorcery trick with the whole smells thing. Predigi.... Prestidigery... Presti-"

Tamara tilted her head in confusion, a strand of hair making a question mark as she said, "Prestidigitation?"

"Yeah, that thing!" Clara's eyes lit up again before she slumped again. "I wish I could say it'd help, but this man has a nose like a hog. He's rather picky about his scents."

"Perhaps we could use him to help us find truffles on the Surface," Tamara joked, though Clara flinched at the mention. "Ah well, can't be helped. You'll see your oils soon enough, but I hope your next client isn't nearly as loud as Larissa."

The disheartened look on Clara's face told the spa witch all she needed to know about the next, enough to spur the witch to skeedaddle as fast as she could.

------------------------

One might look at the sort of job Clara had and wonder why she didn't live in the Inner City. Spa workers did make quite a bit of money, especially with generous tips coming from wealthier and more generous types. Surely the luxurious living and the short walk to the spa would be worth it! But as Tamara summoned a broom and flew off towards the closest elevator to the Undercity and passed by the many apartments and houses up for sale, the witch was rather glad Clara had enough financial sense to avoid living here at all costs. It was made for extravagent living, living in excess, which was hardly necessary when you just wanted to live and pay the bills without worrying about having enough money left over to eat.

Granted, the witch did wish that Clara lived in a part of the Undercity that didn't smell of weed. Or people who shouted about "THE ORANGE MURDERER". Her hair stood on end, sensing the fear of those around, turning their heads away at the sight of her. Her first instinct was that something terrible happened here, something to put everyone on edge. She figured she could look into it in her spare time, but there was certainly no time to spare.

As she drifted along on her broom, she eventually came across the fixer-upper of a house Clara bought, easily recognizable by the many flowers blooming  in the windowsills and the pinwheel that never seemed to spin  right by the doorstep. Pinwheel logistics aside, Tamara hastily pulled out the key and opened the door, swiftly closing the door behind her and sighing at the utter state her coworker's house was in: clothes littered about to avoid, pizza boxes  stacked as if ready for a game of Jenga on the coffee table,  several CDs and video games scattered about... The witch's first instinct is to actually clean and organize everything, but she knew it would not only be rude, not only revert back to its original state after a few days, she also didn't have the time to bother with that. So came the next question: where were the oils?

Tamara adjusted her glasses and headed towards the bathroom, which was, much to her shock, absolutely pristine. It was like a holy spot, a place that could not be defiled. It was cluttered with hair products and acne-fighting creams, sure, but it wasn't dirty or filthy. A quick glance around and she found the oils after opening up the mirror. The witch couldn't help but open one of them up, wafting it carefully with one hand. Her eyes widened at the scent, which was surprisingly pleasant for something based off lemons. Strong, but not overwhelming. Certainly of a better quality than the spa's selection of aromas.

Perhaps I should persuade Karen to purchase this particular brand from now on, she thought for a moment before the hairs on the back of her head stood straight up. Her eyes narrowed, turning towards the bathroom door as she heard someone bang on the front door with enough force that she feared they'd knock it right open.

"Open up! We know you're in there, you bitch!" came a rough, deep voice. "You owe us, big time!"

Gang members? A mafia member trying to collect "protection fees?" Someone Clara slighted? Tamara didn't know which was correct, but she figured that perhaps she should have a word with her about this later. For now, she kept low to the ground, avoiding the windows and trying to assess the situation. From what she could see, there were two burly men and one scrawny one with a bulging eye. Ruffians, the lot of them. And given how the scrawny one looked as if he was going to explode from anger with all those veins, she figured maybe he needed a spa day most of all.

"If you don't show up on the count of three, I'm busting this damn door down!"

The other ones, however, needed a swift kick more than anything. She didn't want to fight them and worry Clara: she had to think of a way to make them surrender quickly enough to deliver the goods. As she looked again towards the essential oils, a smirk played across the witch's lips.

"THREE!"

She stood up now, holding up a hand and murmuring an incantation.

"TWO!"

She could smell the lemon-lavender scent spread throughout the house. Excellent. She composed herself, walking towards the door with confidence.

"ON-"

She opened the door for the men and glared daggers at them. "What on earth is this racket about?" she shouted. "Haven't you any manners?"

The burly men stared at her, dumbfounded. "Uh... youse ain't Clara," said one of them dumbly.

"Of course I'm not! Now, what on earth do you want?"

Tamara saw the mens' noses twitch as they took in the scene, though the scrawny one took one snort of it and hacked like he was about to cough an entire lung out. The feeling was mutual, given that the stench of cigarette smoke around him brutally assaulted her nostrils. "Look here, lady," the scrawny rat said, "I know she's in 'ere, and I ain't waitin another week to get paid. Drag her bitch ass out here before I make you."

His goons tried to look as ferocious as they could, but their eyelids were drooping, their hostility slowly overriden by a sense of calm and sleepiness.

"Y-yeah, go and get that Clara chick, or you're gonna- *yaaawn* get it."

The other goon saw fit to pretend he was going to punch Tamara, but she merely huffed. "She's not here, so please, if you would kindly leave? You're blocking my path and I have a very important meeting to attend."

"Like hell she isn't here!" the rat man hissed. "The hell are you two waitin for? She's a stick, you can shake some answers out of her!"

A moment passed, the men clearly enjoying the scent too much to pay attention too closely. One said, "Boss, she says the gal ain't here. Can't we just come back later?"

"Yeah," said the other as he nodded his head sleepily. "The boss ain't gonna be happy if we beat up this chick and it turns out she's right."

Before the rat man even drew his knife, Tamara's hair unraveled from their buns, every fiber of her being sensing a deep, incredible hostility. She gave him a cold look as she stomped her heel in front of the gangsters and said, "If you attempt to even graze me with that silly weapon of yours, you will regret it."

The rat man flashed her a toothy, filthy grin. "Like you'd even lay a finger of me, lady-"

He thrust his knife, his grin widening until a lock of hair wrapped around his wrist. The witch glared at him, her hair twisting his wrist with enough force for him to squeal in pain and drop the knife. The other men put up their fists, adrenaline jolting them from their aromatheraputic trance, but they took a step back. The rat man stammered a command, the men finally gaining their courage to try to strike before her hair took the form of dogs and bit down with the jaw force of a crocodile on their arms. They howled in pain, the witch quickly releasing them once they were too focused on their wounds to fight her.
"Leave," she commanded, staring down at the men like they were ants. "And never return. If you do..." There is a sickening SNAP, the rat man wailing like a child as his wrist went completely limp, her hair slithering away from the pathetic man. "A fate much worse than that awaits."
The burly men gawked at her, then looked at their friend, then back to her hair twisting into cobras ready to strike. Without a second thought, they grabbed their friend and ran as far as their legs could take them.

She sighed, her hair relaxing and coiling back up into buns as she picked up the knife. "Goodness, what have you gotten yourself into, Clara?" the witch asked no one but the wind as she beckoned her broom to her side and left to deliver the goods.

As much as she wondered about Clara's situation, she did not mention it to her upon giving her the oils. She could not bear to sour her coworker's bright mood, not when her special client was due to arrive at any minute. All Tamara could do was smile with her and bid her farewell as she headed towards her own modest home in the Middle City.

With all her heart, she hoped the mire Clara was in was not so deep she couldn't dig herself out, and that the new Mayor's plans of action would crack down on such foulhearted men.

If only it were enough.

Special Deliveries

Ding!

"Order up!"

The diner was bustling with activity: families chatting as they dig into big meals, friends laughing and telling stories over a strong cup of coffee, and the string of bells ringing as plates of food slide up, ready to be served. It smelled strongly of beef all around, with hamburgers and steaks and pot roasts delivered at several tables.

It only got beefier, however, as  a huge burger was slapped down into the biggest container that could handle such a thing and stuffed in a bag. The waitress struggled to carry this over to the To-Go section, where a girl with light-up skates and an equally dazzling set of headphones bobbed her head to tunes. Honestly, the waitress wasn't sure what the girl was going to do with it. Could a burg even fit in her body?

"Order up for..." the waitress started as she squinted at the name. "Troy?"

The girl snapped her head up and grabbed the bag with an ease that terrified the waitress. Not that she'd show such terror. A smile spread on the girl's face as she says, "Yep, that's for me! Thanks bunches~!"

"Make sure ya leave a tip," the waitress calls out as the girl zooms out, checking her phone and pressing a button to reveal her to-do list.

"Aaaand... Boop!" A tap, and 'Big Daddy Burger' was marked off this list. "Now we gotta get-" she blanched a little bit as she saw just how many Dr. Peppers were on her list. "...He's really making me do this," she grumbles as she pulls out her Sifter. "Well, he already paid, might as well go grab it real quick!"

There was an insanely loud VROP that startled some customers as the girl activated the sifter and went on her merry way.

----------------------

The cashier gave the girl a very unimpressed look.

"...That's everything, is it?" he asked, deadpan, much like most cashiers still working in the middle of the night.

The girl smiled apologetically at him as she replied, "I'd get more, but only because it's part of an order."

"...Someone ordered this." He looked down at the shopping cart. "2-liter Dr. Peppers."

"Yuh huh."

"Twelve of them."

Another nod from the girl. "Yep. Think I'm gonna need to borrow the shopping cart just to bring it to him!"

The cashier gets the handheld scanner and works on this as he comments, "Hope he pays you back with a spot in his will, because his heart's going  to explode from all of this. Hell, I'd be surprised if he survived without getting diabetes."

"I'm pretty sure he's actually just an eldrich being fueled only by Dr. Pepper, actually," the girl replies with a small smirk. "He'll only stay benevolent as long as the elixir stays in his blood."

"One helluva customer you've got, then."

The cashier finishes scanning things up and gives a price, the gal quickly grabbing her card to swipe and taking off with the cart at breakneck speeds. She glides across the road for a bit, enjoying the thrill, the night breeze, before realizing that maybe that's not the greatest idea to do with twelve Dr. Peppers in her cart. She marks off another thing on her checklist before her eyes widened.

"Oh, that's it!"

She looks down at the cart with a frown.

"...I think I'd kill him if he added anything more," she mutters under her breath, digging out her sifter from her pocket, fidgeting with it as she sets the coordinates. "I'm already about to set off store alarms because I'm borrowing a cart. Who does he think I am, Godzilla?"

As she was grousing, she hardly noticed the figure creeping behind her in the cover of night. Slowly, surely sneaking up on her, until they were quick to get the jump on her and put a knife to her neck.

"Nice toy ya got there, kid," she heard the figure say before she saw his eyes looking down at her sifter. "Hand it over, or-"

A large yelp echoed through the night as she blatantly headbutted him, whirling around and activating the rockets on her skates to put more OOMPH in her kick. Her assailant skid across the ground but was back on her tail, persistent enough that she couldn't focus on teleporting herself AND the cart away to her destination. So she needed to make this fight quick, fast enough that the burg didn't get cold and her client didn't get mad that his order was late.

"You're going to regret that!" he shouts before she waggles a finger  and launches a glob of hot, molten cheese. If it weren't for the ski mask he was wearing, his whole face would be dealing with second and third degree burns. Maybe that would have been better than his eyes getting the brunt of it. He dropped his knife, screaming in pain, clutching at his face as the girl zoomed in and grabbed his weapon and put it in her pocket. She turns off the rocket power and quickly sets up her sifter, grabbing the cart just as the assailant finally managed to open their eyes and get up in a rage.

"Bye, bitch!" was the last words he heard as she VROPPED out of existence.

if only she could see the look on his face.

----------------------

VROP

"Iiiii'm heeeeeeeeeeeere~" the girl says, her cheer dying in her throat as she found the room empty. It was lit up, showing her client's rig and the mini fridge she wasn't sure was capable of holding twelve entire 2-liters of anything. She broke into a sweat, peering through corners and pushing open doors she didn't feel comfortable opening otherwise.

"Hellooooooooooooooo...?" she said as she opened the door to the bathroom before slowly closing it.

"Trooooy, where aaare youuu?" she asks again as she opens up a closet full of Planeswarden uniforms and hideous looking shirts she thought should burn in a fire.

Exasperated, she opened the last and final door and shouted, "Hey, buttface, I brought the foo-"

This room was full of bolts and gears, floor absolutely littered with robot parts as Phreak tweaked away at a sifter right beside his bed, carefully removing parts with as much dexterity as he could with rubber gloves. The delivery girl coughed awkwardly, but Phreak didn't even turn his head towards her, too absorbed in his work to answer.

"Guess I'll just take these Dr. Pepper's back-"

That got his attention. "Geez, Mel, can't you wait two seconds?!" he shouts as he finally puts the sifter down, glaring at her. "I'm trying not to teleport my hand into The Bleed and watch it come back as some eldrich being stuck to me like a puppet!"

"No, because then your burg's gonna get cold and hard as a rock because SOMEONE didn't invest in a microwave!" Mel snapped back. "The sifter can wait, can't it?"

That nervous glance from the sifter back to her was not a good sign. Neither was him saying, "Well, I got a job from Outside, so I need to fix this sooner rather than later. And make sure it works, to boot."

Mel's eyes widened before she took a deep breath, carefully deactivated her skates so they could be normal sneakers, and navigated through the mess to set Phreak's burger beside him. "Well, you won't be any good on an empty stomach, Troy, so at least take a break! Your Dr. Peppers are in the main room, though..." She narrowed her eyes into a glare. "Why twelve?"

Troy looked at her as if the answer was obvious. "Because I don't know if this dimension even has Dr. Pepper, and I'm not taking any risks!"

Her glare intensified. "I had to steal a shopping cart to get them all in here."

"...M-maybe I overdid it a little," Troy admits, wilting under such a look as he opened up and revealed his big ol burger meal. "...Definitely overdid it," he repeated as he slowly lifted up his mask enough to reveal his mouth. Mel flinched at the sight of scar tissue around it, gnarled as it was, looking away as he took a big bite of his burg.

Mel sighed before taking a seat on the bed, glancing over at the sifter as she asked, "Outside asked for help, huh? That's new. What's the occasion?"

"Ladeca."

She felt her whole stomach sink like a rock at the mere mention of the name. Visions of friends, forms twisted to the point of nigh recognition, their memories warped and weaponized, raining hell upon this dimension's Planeswardens flooded her mind.

"D-did they find her or something? D-did she attack them, too?" Mel asked, clutching at her skirt tightly, breaking into a cold sweat. "Don't tell me they were lost, too-"

Troy held up a hand to stop her panic as he responded, "No." After swallowing down another bite of burg, he continued, "I got into contact with one of their Councilmembers to get more details after he contacted me. Ladeca's been influencing their dimension more subtly from what they could tell, though her followers were being more blatant in one part of it. After dealing with some dimensional sheenanigans, they managed to kill one of her followers and locate the dimension she's probably lurking in."

Mel's eyes widened again before she got in Troy's face and asked, "Are they going to storm the place? Go all gung-ho? Avenge the fallen like they're superher-"

He flinched and pushed Mel away with a free hand, a frown forming on his face. "They know as well as we do that trying to storm it without a plan in mind would be a disaster. She's a powerful sorceress who manipulated many of our own friends to turn against each other. She's got a following and has ruled for long enough that there might not be many people open to rebel against her, since she might be doing them a favor. Either that or they're too scared to speak up." He paused a moment, putting his burger away for the moment before putting his mask down, a serious look peering through the goggles. "He also mentioned that they're going through an upheaval after their founder was killed and the right hand man went crazy and killed several of his own friends for some stupid ideal. They might have more people in general and more resources, but they know that if they just go in there willy nilly, they're going to have a bad time."

After a moment of awkward silence, Mel sat back on the bed and crossed her legs, slumping a little. "So then, why you? Why now? They could have waited until they were ready to investigate, couldn't they?"

"Probably, but they probably have more problems than just her, from the sound of it. Something that needs some more researching so they can figure out a game plan." Phreak turned his attention back to the sifter and tweaking, tweaking, tweaking. "They said they want me to help the Earth Sect, too, so something tells me they're in a pretty bad situation. Either that or a niche needs filling that nobody else is filling."

The silence lingered longer, the delivery girl content to watch her friend and teammate keep working. Thoughts were lurking in her head, wondering what that particular Outside dimension was like, if they were really in as bad shape as Troy said, if they really had found out where their greatest enemy might be lurking. A mix of worry, anger, and excitement bubbled under the surface, Mel fidgeting more and more with her fingers and eventually grabbing a pillow to squeeze to try to get that energy out.

Then, all of a sudden, she shouted, "Then we should both go! Two's better than one, and I'm sure everyone would appreciate some speeedy delivery, eeeeh~? And more missions, more money! We could then get you an actual kitchen in here! And you can get out of here and actually do things and wecanactuallybeawesomeand-"

She stopped herself, her energy deflating as quickly as it came as she added, "Or maybe I'll be useless-"

Troy stopped his work, stared Mel right in the eyes, and said sternly, "Don't start putting yourself down before I even get a chance to say something, Mel." After taking a deep breath, he continued more cheerfully, "You're right, you WOULD be a good addition and moral support! Hell, you can even put those powers to good use! When was the last time you even faught something, anyway?"

"A few minutes ago. I threw hot fondue in some asshole's eyes."

He blinked, and he quickly corrected, "When was the last time you faught the typical Planeswarden enemy?"

A timid look formed on Mel's face as she pressed her fingers together and thought. "It's been years, I think."

"Exactly!" Troy beamed with joy, which caught Mel a bit off guard. "It'll be practice for both of us, and they'll give us pleeeenty to do. With me as mission control and you kicking ass, we'll be the solution the Outside needs~! So I'll hit up the councilman again and see if he could use a few extra hands. You, Rita, maybe Sparklehands-"

"What about Miss Bearington?"

Mel wished she could see the wicked grin underneath the mask. "Ooooh, you are an absolute genius! Miss Bearington is a MUST. Mr. Kitty is also a must, because he's a goddamn cat! Who DOESN'T want a cat? We'll just have to see!" A bit more fiddling and calibrating later, and Troy triumphantly shows Mel the repaired sifter. "Alrighty, I think I fixed it! Mind testing it out for me?"

"Couldn't you test it?" was the question she was going to ask, right before she promptly remembered the last time he sifted. Just one planet over to meet some of the gang for lunch, and he was trembling, mask off, hurling his lunch and then some for what felt like a half hour. So instead, she asked, "Am I allowed to kick your ass if I get the Cthulhu puppet on my hand instead?"

"You are allowed to rip me one new asshole, though I'd prefer if you didn't!"

Mel grinned, taking the sifter in her hands. "I'll do you a favor and rip out two-"

"Just the one, please," Troy pleads as Mel laughed, adjusting the coordinates to someplace simple. Like to the Custard Cat Dimension.

VROP.

VRIP. It was hardly a minute when Mel returned with a Custard Cat  trying to bite her shoulder. She doesn't look too fazed, though, tossing the sifter back to Phreak as she says, "Works like a charm! Got a hanger on, but he didn't turn into a godbeast so I think that's a win!"

"Woo, still got it!" he cheered. "Well, it's ready for when Outside calls aga-"

Bad timing. He found his iPad vibrating on his nightstand, Troy nearly tripping over himself to get to it. A bombardment of text messages from Aurelis showed up, and as he read them... Well, given from that shocked look he had on his face, it didn't take much for Mel to figure out whatever news he got, it's not good.

"They need my help with an incident already?!?" Troy shouted, breaking into a nervous sweat that rolled down his neck. "I just barely talked to them and they're begging for me!"

Mel nearly snorted as Troy continued to trip over himself, gathering his army of ladybug bots and his beloved TENTOMUSHI in a panic. "Hey, that just shows they trust you! Go and give 'em a good first impression, wontcha?"

"MY FIRST IMPRESSION IS GOING TO BE ME BARFING INTO A BUCKET, MELISSA!"

"I meant everything that comes after that, you dumbass," Mel countered as he adjusted the coordinates and slapped the sifter onto himself once he had his armful of bug bots. "I'll watch over your 12 million Dr. Poppos while you go sway the others." She also sees the burger and stacks that on top of the bugs as she adds, "Make sure to warm that up once you're done, too! Have a good trip~"

Troy looked at her like a kitten forced to accept that bathtimes were always going to be a horrible, awful thing they'd have to deal with.

"I won't," was his only answer before he VROPPED to his destination.

Silence reigned again, Melissa taking time to talk out to the main room and bask in the light. She fidgeted a little, concerned that maybe she wouldn't be able to help. God, she wanted to help now, but she didn't know where he was going. She couldn't go out and make more deliveries to distract herself and earn more money, given that Troy told her about the recent invasion. She couldn't risk losing his trust by ditching his home and letting it possibly get under some asshole's control. All she could really do is wait...

...Well, he wouldn't mind if she used his rig and watched Netflix. Surely he'd be back with answers after an entire season of Aqualiss vs Nightmare Bottling Company.... riiiight?

...After she guesses his password right. God damn it.

Freak

Clack, clack, clack.

Keyboard typing noises filled the room, the only light illuminating it was from the monitor against the wall. Images of happy, normal people flashed by in an instant, swiftly replaced by pictures of desolate wastelands and polluted waters. Words upon words upon words sped by, no single page lingering for longer than a few seconds.

All this information  was reflected in the gas mask's eye, a heavy sigh breaking the monotony of keys being pressed.

"All this, and I'm no closer to an answer," said the man as he crossed his legs across his chair. slumping forward as he glared at the screen with one good eye. "Just a bunch of pictures of the aftermath. No solutions, nothing. Again."

He stood up, walking through the darkness, navigating it as easily as a raccoon as he opened a small fridge. A look of disgust crept on his  obscured face: hardly a can of Dr. Pepper was in sight, lost in a sea of protein drinks and meal replacements. He reached for it and popped it open,  moving his mask slightly upward as he drunk deeply of the elixir that sustained him for so long.

Before he could take a seat back at his computer, alarms blared, two monitors turning on to reveal camera footage. His eye widened a bit as the computer stated, "Intruder Alert," in a loud monotone. It was hard to believe, but as he watched several men bundled up from head to toe avoiding the many traps inherent in his little hideout, he knew this little gaggle of goons were serious. Or at least, they were competent enough that he didn't have to come up there and scrape their squashed remains off the floor from the pulverising machinery, or deal with the smell of burnt flesh permeating the air.

He did, however, have to deal with said goons busting open his door, the whole room illuminated by the factory's light and revealing the man's ominous looking form. Or a form that would look more ominous, if the man didn't look like a giant dork with Dr. Pepper for blood. And if he didn't just immediately hold up his hands at the sight of guns.

"Freeze!" one goon said, even though the man already complied and everything. "Good, someone with sense. Now, hand over the controls to the factory and get out of here-"

The man snorted. "You barge into my home and want to negotiate getting the keys? No thanks."

There was a click as he saw the safeties were disengaged, another goon snarling, "We have better reasons to use this place than a shitty squatter like you. Pack your things and get out, or die."

They weren't sure why he did this. It wasn't exactly a smart move in any regard. But all the man did was shrug and say, "Guess I'll die!"

The guns fired on him all at once, leaving bullet wounds where they hit. The fact that he was still standing afterwards with wounds slowly stitching themselves up made the goons hesitate as the man let out a laugh.

"Well, guess you guys are more bark than bite. Good thing, too: I'm a bit... out of practice."

He moved quickly, hands suddenly charged with lightning as he jabbed a goon in the throat. The goon collapsed, convulsing  and gurgling nonsense as the other intruders converged on the masked man. He quickly drew a machete that burst with electric power as he channeled it into his weapon and stabbed another intruder in the gut, whirling around and slicing another one in their arm. They desperately tried to riddle him with more bullets, but going for headshots was useless, the bullets bouncing off his mask and their efforts rewarded with an electric knife in unpleasant places.

There was one left after the fighting, all his companions either dead or paralyzed at the hands of some dork in a gas mask and a sparking knife. He whimpered, falling to his knees, scrambling back towards the wall before the man dispelled the enchantment on his knife, put it away, and grabbed the man by the collar with relative ease.

"You want to live, don't you?" the masked man said in a harsh whisper. "You want to live and get away from this nightmarish hell of a planet, don't you? Then here's my ultimatum: grab your buddies, take them to whoever sent you here, and warn them that if they send another crew to try to take over this place, they'll have a worse fate than any of you.

Or you can die. But then more people would have to die because they didn't get a warning, and I'd have to clean the conveyor belts of all the idiots who traipse in here again. But that's up to you: do you want to be the messenger, or do you want to be the corpse?"

He didn't understand what gibberish came out of this goon's mouth, but he was nodding along, so the man released him, heading over to his computer and disabling the factory's functions for the time being. He watched the goon try to carry as many of his comrades as he could, running on pure adrenaline and leaving this god forsaken place alone.

Soon as he left, the man closed the door, heading over to his computer and quickly researching people who would have interest in a factory. Several people cropped up: Brad "Smithy" Dorson of Mechkai, of course, given his penchant of selling mass produced weapons to war-riddled planets. There was Queen Eliza, who believed that a strong country needed a strong military presence, but didn't have the means to mass produce weaponry, as they haven't the means to make factories and experience the age of an Industrial Revolution. (How the sources found that out and relayed it to the internet was beyond him.) And of course, there was the coalition of Santas, wishing to produce more presents for good boys and girls, though the man doubted they would send a bunch of goons to try to seize it forcefully.

That was all excluding interference from 'outside'. Heaven only knew how many Outsiders would want a factory, though how many would be so determined to get one in the middle of a winter hellscape was a different story.

Still, though, he wasn't going to just let anyone have it. Besides, it was a good defense system. Kept the idiots out and him in. Was a giant pain in the ass to get food delivered here normally, though. Sifting was the only way he was going to get bulk shipments of food and drink, and sometimes the sifting process made his pizza into an eldrich monster that made eating it more of an epic battle than it needed to be. The only way he was going to move out is if a better place presented itself to him, one that didn't have any fees attached aside from internet bills.

As he got back into his research, his Discord buzzed to life, blaring at him with a call from Outside. Quickly, he picked it up, putting on his headset as Aurelis's face popped up on screen.

"Idenfification, please," the masked man said. Aurelis was way ahead of him, holding up his Planeswarden Badge with a feathered hand. The man's eye widened as he quickly straightened up and asked, "What's the occasion? HQ usually doesn't ask much of anything from me, nevermind one from Outside."

"Many, many things," Aurelis replied as he tucks away his badge. "I've heard many things about you, and I wish to borrow your abilities, in light of recent events. Though, ultimately, I would have to consult the higher ups, no?"

The man shook his head. "There are no higher ups here. We're kind of a scattered band of dopes doing what we can... which, sadly enough, isn't much. So you're fine, just wondering what kind of events are happening on your end that needs me over there."

"Ladeca, for one."

The masked man flinched at the name. There have been rumors, so many rumors, about Ladeca. That some Planeswardens were manipulated and turned into Ba'als to wipe the remaining ones out. That others just joined her team when theirs was clearly losing. That those on the brink of despair joined her not out of fear, but out of a sick, twisted hope than she would make everything better. The more he heard, the more it made his stomach twist into knots.

"You had me at Ladeca," he says with glee, imagining how good it would feel to punch her in her stupid face.  "If it means stopping her from manipulating my friends and coworkers, I'd love to help! Just make sure my new home's nice and cozy and I'm not in any immediate danger, and we're good~"

"If you mean 'staying near the local superheroes', then of course. Though you must be willing to put yourself in some danger: they tend to attract the sort of trouble you can't simply avoid all the time."

Aurelis witnessed him flinch as he grumbled, "Fiiiine, I'll live with it. I'd rather be not disturbed, buuut juuust for you guys, I'll do it."

"Excellent. We don't need your services as of quite yet, but when you are ready, here are the coordinates to one of our HQs. You will be aiding the Earth Sect, as they are in dire need of a hacker and researcher such as yourself.

Good luck, and I hope to see you soon, Phreak."

As the communications shut off and he got the coordinates in a separate DM that he hastily scribbled before the message deleted itself, Phreak stared at the monitors and groaned.

"Oh, I'm going to regret this codename by the end of this," he says as he makes a mental to-do list. Secure factory to make sure nobody can take control of it while he's gone, maybe ask someone else to watch over it, actually fix his sifter after procrastinating and dreading the feeling of VROPing places again, meet Outside Coworkers... and actually live a little. Maybe. If the air isn't literal poison over there. Hopefully.

This next year was going to be quuiiite interesting.

Dino Report

April 15th:

The big bosses apparently have money to spend, because now we have a bunch of dinosaurs. 10, to be precise. I'm not sure what need we have for five (inaccurate) raptors, two triceratops, a Carnotaurus, a Ceratosaurus, and a big fat lazy Spinosaurus, but I'm not the one calling the shots. The raptors keep chittering at each other while a coworker offers a goat to the Carno like he's a god or something.

I'm sure this won't backfire or anything. Yep.

April 16th:

They injected the dinosaurs with... something. "To enhance their abilities," a coworker said. Do dinos need steroids? Are we trying to win the Olympia Olympics or something? Either way, nothing happened. Oh, Bob nearly got his arm bitten off by Carno, but that's nothing new. I'm sure someone has a habit of biting someone when they stick a huge fucking needle in them.

Raptors have already created a clique and seem to backtalk anyone who comes by. Snobs. The tris don't give a shit long as they get their fair share of grass and roaming about in some random, isolated island near the Kuwahawi Archipelago for like... a bit. Carno, as expected, wants to eat everybody. Won't stop rattling his cage and roaring at everybody. He roared at me and tried to bite me, but I just tranq'd him and went about my day. Spino's... he's something, alright. He's just a lazy bum who waddles in water and humbly accepts fish. I thought this thing was supposed to be terrifying?

But the real weirdo here is Cerato. He's... kinda runty for a Cerato. A juvenile, maybe? Only about 8 feet tall, maybe less. Not only that, instead of trying to eat anyone, he just sniffs us and backs away like we're going to taze him or something. Did see some markings on him, some pretty nasty bite marks. And not the "I got bit by a thousand campies" kinda nasty, but a "something big and nasty bit him like he was a burger" kinda nasty. If they clamped down... This guy wouldn't have survived. Or maybe he didn't, and we revived him with white magic after putting his body back together.

Whatever the case, he's not eating as much as the others. Hell, doesn't seem to eat while anybody's here. Can't put a finger on why.

Maybe because that fucker keeps scaring him or something.

April 18th:

Raptor Clique must have had one helluva time hunting on Big Fucking Monster island, because they won't fucking shut up. Not only that, one of them sparks up and chitters the loudest like he's a hype generator or something. Literal sparks.

That's not something a dinosaur should have.

If that's not a big enough deal, the triceratops are making their own grass and are just bamboozled. They can feed themselves! Sadly that means they're growing grass on walls and not understanding that shouldn't really be happening. Spino doesn't seem to realize much of anything, just still floating around like a big dope and continuing to eat fish, and Carno is Carno and actually ate Bob this time. Carno got put in the "time out" corner. Cerato heard those tazing noises and scampered into his corner in a heartbeat as the massive asshole got what was coming.

Cerato doesn't seem to be showing much, either, but lately, when I've been goofing off and watching youtube instead of being an actual scientist, he gets real curious. Just rolls up and sniffs in my direction like he's trying to watch with me. He also gets like that whenever he hears someone unwrapping something. I wondered why...

...Up until I saw Kana giving him a Russel Stover bar. Do we even know if chocolate hurts dinos? Do they even have taste buds like we do? Either way, Cerato ate that as if it was his birthday and nearly took Kana's hand with it. This is a carnivore and here we are, feeding it chocolate. For "science". We're not completely stupid, though: someone followed that up by giving him a burger, too. And raw steaks.

What next, we're gonna be feeding him the dry-aged shit? Iberico ham? Caviar? Either way, least he's eating better.

...Wonder what he'd say if he could talk, though.

April 20th:

I hate being outdoors. Mosquitos are the bane of my existence, and yet here I am, the fuckers feasting on me as I play dinosaur babysitter on dino island.. What could POSSIBLY go wrong?

Raptor Clique are a bunch of magicians now, making sparks, icicles, fire, wind, and... party favors. The mage Raptors have shunned their party friend in favor of being wizards. Party Raptor doots on... by herself. She seems a bit happier that way, dooting in the general direction of the triceratops, who really just want to mind their own business. Carno got too close to them and they tag teamed him, just slamming him down and covering him with rocks and moss before strugging off. Bastard's angry as hell but he can't do shit about it.

Spino alert: he is the happiest, just eating fish and occasionally getting into it with a shark. RIP that shark. Currently suntanning on the beach like a model and screeching at Carno whenever he gets too close. Doesn't seem to mind Cerato, since Cerato's using him as a shield against Carno. He still seems afraid, though, so even though he's not really much of a fish guy, he catches fish and gives 'em to spino like its an offering. Paying him for his services, maybe?

Speaking of Cerato, he's had his eye on Lewis's dinosaur diorama. Just can't pry his eyes away. Meanwhile, I was just glaring at the Spinosaur toy he got before me. Bastard ordered one and didn't even tell me. Sold out just before I got there.

Lewis, if you ever read this, you're dead to me.

April 21st:

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit

Okay. Calm down, I can get through this.

Carno... Carno got powers. He got 'em, alright. First noticed it when the bars of his cage were a little bent. Put it back in place and thought it was all alright. But every night, they seem to get bent wider and wider. And Carno's always staring intently at it...

We put him in a different cage for now, but I feel like it might not be enough. Especially if he figures out how to work it. I swear, he's got raptor blood in him. Hell, all of them do. Especially the raptors, but that's to be expected.

Speaking of, Party Raptor is in her own cage now, dooting it up and having the time of her life. I gave her a kazoo for laughs, and now she won't stop. I've created a monster. Soon she will have the kazoo skills to win musical competitions and I'll be awarded 20 gold trophies for my efforts.

Tris are Tris, Spino is Spino, Cerato is trying to learn how to lockpick and actually broke out. We didn't need to tranq him though, we just saw him attempting to do what no dino could possibly do and sit in a chair. Chair-sama has died for our sins. Also ate Lewis's burger like a champion. Take THAT Lewis, serves you right.

Everyone's pretending everything's alright, but the raptors are sensing something wrong. Already coming up with attack plans, I guess? Cerato's definitely on edge, hugging that corner like its gonna protect it. Gave him a safety blanket, and he just hid under that instead. A good replacement for when Spino can't comfort him.

--------------------

April 22^nd:

Cerato broke out with Party Raptor and had their own little party. Had to escort them back into their cages, but Party Raptor continues to doot in protest. Her fellow raptors are annoyed and probably told her to shut up, but she doots on.

There's slamming noises somewhere. Already packed my bags and have several tranqs ready to go.

------------------

April 23^rd:

Spino's growling and getting aggressive. The slamming noises are getting louder. "There is nothing to fear," higher ups say.

Nothing to fear, my ass. They said something about administering another injection. I think I might know what it is... and I don't want to be here for it.

---------------------

April 25th

FUCK-

*Blood is splattered all over the pages.*

---------------------

April 29^th:

Never enough morphine for this shit

"There's nothing to fear" they said

Yeah tell that to the people who got smeared and eaten you dumbasses

Press is hush hush. Head Honcho bought their silence. Bought mine, too, but only for so long.

Tris are dead. Fire Raptor's alive. Dunno about his other wizard friends. Party Raptor and Cerato's with me. Spino's... somewhere. With a trusted friend. Can't trust bigwigs to not fuck up everything.

Fucker bit Cerato. Instant trauma, wild flailing. Didn't even fight back. Spino broke out and came to his rescue and nearly snapped fucker's neck. If those idiots didn't tranq him, their favorite would have gotten thrashed.

Don't know what they're planning with him now.

All I know is that they won't learn. They'll never learn.

If they get their hands on the rest... There's no telling what they'll do.

Cerato's on the bed, clutching onto Lewis's Spino toy tightly. Won't come from under the blankets. Party Raptor trying her best to comfort him with the song of her people. It’s not working.

God, if only the Kobbers were here already.

It Begins... Again

"You've gotta be shitting me!"

Prier glared at the mail in her hand so hard, one would think lasers would come out of her eyes to pierce through that and the ugly green couch she was sitting on. Brandon watched with a frown, fiddling with his fingers as Pookums put her head in Prier's lap.

The nun balled it up and tossed it away, grumbling, "Damn it, couldn't they tell me before I got here? And what took them so long getting this to me, anyway?"

"I don't think you told them that we found a cheap place in Olympia, Prier," Brandon answered weakly, shrinking away as Prier turned her gaze towards him. "That, and isn't your home pretty far away? And maybe they didn't have this until now?"

"Mmmrg." The nun slumped back into the couch until it looked like the couch was absorbing her. "And its gonna be a pain in the ass, ain't it."

"A mission, then?"

"Something like that." Prier stretched a bit and yawned as she continued, "Something about some people going missing. Some in Paprika, so I can't help with that, but..." She rolled over and sighed now as she added, "Heard some followed me here, or tried to. "

Brandon smiled just a tad, though he still fiddled around with his fingers as he said, "Guess they were impressed with your Brawl stuff last year, huh?"

"Maybe? Its not like I really talked much to everybody aside from my brother. Maybe chatted a bit, but I was mostly doing my own thing." Prier finally sat up, head propped up in her hand, drumming against the couch arm with her free one. "But whatever their reason for coming here, they either never made it... or their stay was cut short or something." Another grumpy sigh, Prier ignoring a door creaking nearby. "And without a lead, can't really DO much about it!"

More grumbling would have ensued, had a third voice hadn't chimed in with a, "Well, for one, you could ask whoever's in charge to put a tracker on 'em." Prier and Brandon turned their heads towards the source: Nikki, with a detective hat on and what looked like a pipe. A pipe that she was blowing bubbles out of.

"Nikki, where on earth did you get that?" was probably not the response the aspiring detective wanted to get, especially not from Brandon. "Did you go to Party Hardy without me?!?"

She stared at him for a second before she said, "I plead the 5th." She then turned her attention to Prier before Brandon could guilt her with the look of sheer betrayal on his face. "Now, about tracking..."

Prier looked up at her and shrugged. "Don't know about that. Paprika isn't exactly technologically advanced yet. Working on it, but it's taking time. We got computers and phones, but nothing like trackers."

"How about magic spells for tracking?"

"Don't think anyone was smart enough for that."

"Then send your pet bat with them as an escort."

Prier opened her mouth to retort, then put a finger on her chin. "That might actually work, but I have no idea when the fuck someone else is coming. Getting in contact with them's gonna take a bit."

Nikki shrugged and said, "Well, something's better than nothing. In the meantime, I can keep an eye out for any missing nuns and priests in the area, any witnesses. They wear the same shit you do, right?"

Prier looked up at her with a shocked look. "...I thought I was the only one wearing this. And if I'm not..." That weird look was quickly into anger. "Then that old man's gonna need a proper kick to the crotch to fix it."

"Okaaay, I'll take that as a no until proven otherwise." Nikki blew a few bubbles from her pipe before she started to walk off. "Well, off to work. I'll pass the word on to Brownie and pals..." She paused for a second before she added reluctantly, "Oh, and Team FBI Kissasses, too, I guess. You haven't died until you've listened to them give the most BORING reports. Watching paint dry would be more entertaining than listening them." Halfway out the door, and she just shakes her head as she adds, "They don't even fucking spin on the chairs when nobody's looking. No fun."

Brandon got over his betrayal long enough to be concerned. "Oooh boy, have fun with that? Maybe don't go out to whatever their idea of a good time is?"

"It'd just be an invite to watching a police documentary or some shit!" Nikki called out when she was out the door, before she swiftly shut the door behind her.

Brando and Prier exchanged glances for a moment.

"Brando, ya think your bud's gonna handle that alright?"

He gave her the thousand yard stare, a stare that saw right through her and sent shivers down her spine.

"Nope."

------------------------

"Aaaand that's that!"

The Planeswardens looked up at their new HQ, eyes glistening with glee. It took work, fixing up a broken down Holiday Inn. It wasn't even their first choice, considering all the damage. But the big bosses got it for cheap because it was such a fixer upper, and so, fixed, they did. With the big ribbon snipped by Halla with dramatic flair, the Nerd Brigade stampeded in like their lives depended on it, Dia and Duer wisely sidestepping the likes of Biscotti and pals in their haste to claim rooms.

"DIBS ON ROOM 169!" Biscotti shouted amongst the crowd, throwing her weight around to get to the front of the pack. "I CALLED DIBS, NOBODY GONNA HAVE IT BUT ME!"

Several nerds complained, but their complaints weren't heard for long as they piled inside, leaving Duer, Kela, Halla, Dia, and Starla out to bask in the glory of the Halla Day Inn.

"Well, one problem solved, 99 more to go," Duer said with a smirk, turning towards Halla. "Thanks for lending a hand. Think I'd lose my goddamned mind if I did this all by myself."

"Thank me by letting me help ya guys more often, then!" Halla replied, chuckling and slapping Duer on the shoulder. Slapping him hard enough that a small chunk chipped off of the rockdog's body. While Duer stared in horror, Halla's expression turned dark as she said, "Really, though, wish I could help more, but my arms are tied. Something feels wrong about the meetings now. Auralis feels it, too: they're a lot more tense, and Ivan's been yapping more and influencing others a lot more often. That includes the whole, uh, Earth Sect budget..." Halla looked down at her feet and slumped. "Kinda... didn't help much there. I'm no good about budget talks, just punching."

Now it was Dia's turn to pat Halla on the shoulder. Or back, since Dia couldn't exactly reach Halla's shoulder. "You did your best. That's all we can really ask for. Although Ivan having more of a say in things is concerning. And still no sign of Magus..."

"Feels like it's leading up to something," Kela said, closing her eyes as she crossed her arms. "With Magus missing, Ivan's getting bold. There's more dissonance in the force than ever. It's getting harder to get things done here in this sect." She furrowed her brows as she turned towards Duer and asked, "You hear anything from your guys yet? You haven't mentioned them in a while."

"I did get reports about Ivan's sect suddenly getting pay raises and one of them being flashy about it," Duer said, "but that was about a month ago. I haven't heard anything from them since. Might be keeping quiet since they're not finding anything indicative of anything concrete, hard evidence of system rigging or anything happening with Magus."

Kela's eyes narrowed further. "Or they could have been captured because they found out something that was."

The crew fell silent, Halla turning furious at the thought, Duer looking away awkwardly like a dog charged with shitting the bed, Dia fiddling with a ribbon on her finger and looking back and forth between everyone.

"Are we really going to play the 'be awkward and say nothing' game? Really?" All attention turned to Starla, the nerd clearly grumpy about the situation. "Really. Okay, we don't know which situation is the right one, but guess what? We can find out by, oh, I don't know, throwing a fucking Kobber at it. They're not tied to our politics or rules and they have full rights to punch whoever is doing obstruction of justice, IF there's any going on. I mean, the kitsune kid's a fucking Kobber, and god help any fucko who hurts her. Dia, how many moms she got?"

"Two. Three if you count Selena, who would probably like her!"

"Yeah, fuck whoever hurts her because hell has no fury like a mother scorned, nevermind three of them." Starla pushed her spectacles up and looks Duer right in the eye as she said, "So, if that radio silence goes on way too long, throw the moms at it and watch the problem die. Horribly."

Duer stared at her before he shrugged. "Fair point. I'll see if I can find info on their last whereabouts, just in case.

By the way, where the fuck is Seles? Thought she'd be here by now!"

Dia and Starla looked him dead in the eye at the same time as they said simultaneously, "Making a biker gang."

"...Making a biker gang?"

"She wants an excuse to ride a motorcycle on slow days," Dia pointed out.

"Also so she can bully the bullies in the area," Starla added with a smirk.  "Because from what I heard, there's a lotta guys that need a lil comeuppance in this area. It'll keep her busy when there's no Ladeca nonsense or Kobber shit to catch her attention."

Duer sighed as he led the group into the Inn, looking over his shoulder for a moment  and seeing someone hide the moment he spotted them. A girl, maybe? Meh, not important. "Well, whatever floats her boat. Just hope she doesn't go overboard.

Speaking of overboard, Halla, we need to talk about Hiroki..."

As the gang went in, Kisha finally stopped hiding behind a trash can and peered over it, staring at the new hotel with a confused look.

"Cripes, looks like a whole gaggle of cosplayers went in there," she said as she straightened herself up. "So many nerds rushed in there... Don't even think there's room.

Ugh, maybe I should just look for a room right next to Valhalla.

...Maybe the bartender'll let me sleep there as I get my whole job thing worked out."

----------------------------------

Resumes. So many resumes. Resumes upon resumes upon resumes.

And here Juan was, sending resumes just about everywhere, eyes nearly burned out by the computer, eyelids drooping as he sends yet another one in someone's direction.

"I don't envy this generation," he said afterwards, slumping in his seat and yawning loud enough to catch the attention of a certain stretchy cat. "Don't know how they have the patience to send all of this and wait for an answer. An answer that'll never come..."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sonia, who looked pretty baffled by everything, all dressed up in what looked like a chef's suit. "Oooh, you're job hunting now? Thought you were looking for faith!"

"Sadly, faith doesn't have a Tinder equivalent, so a job's the next best thing." More staring, the god awkwardly turning his seat towards Sonia as he explained, "You know, they place their FAITH in you... to do a good job? You know, that sorta thing?

...I mean, I technically have 0 experience in anything aside from management BUT it's worth a shot-"

That curiosity turned to glee as Sonia shouted, "Well, why didn't ya say so? I got a nice job  I start in a few days~ Maybe if I pull a few strings, I can help you get a job there, too!"

"Uh... where DID you get a job, Sonia?"

The witch smiled and snapped her fingers, a letter showing up in Juan's hands. He squinted and read through it, his eyes widening with every word he read, until he finally looked up at Sonia again with absolute shock.

"Sonia, how the fuck did you get a job at VALHALLA?"

----------------------------

"To be remembered, to be known.
Isn't that the wish of all?

But you are forgotten. Rejected. No one.
Too afraid to gain the recognition you deserve.
Trembling in the shadows of those who rose to the heights of fame.
Wishing to gain the attention of your idols.
Yearning for the fame that slipped through your fingers like sand.

For those who desire to be remembered, come now to Olympia. Come, join the Revue of Rejects, and become the blazing star to light the skies, a star to be remembered in the heart of all!"

The biker girl looked up at... well, she wasn't sure what she was looking at, just some weird part dragon dude who looked like he could cry the minute you even stared at him for too long. She looked back down at the letter, then back at him.

"So... you came all the way out of Manhattan to find me and get me to investigate this," she said calmly.

The dragon boy frowned and looked down at his feet. "Well, uh, yes, because um... sounds like Kobbery business and, if I remember, you're, uh... a Kobber fan. And also like one of those shrine maiden girls."

She sat up straight on her motorcycle and glanced at the letter again. "Sure is, and it smells fishy. Sounds like someone caught wind of your brief run in with them... um..." She pulled out the envelope and squinted at the letters. "...I'm not saying that name. We're calling you Bob."

"But that IS my real-"

The girl cut him off and said, "Yeah, no, I'm not saying that, everyone's going to call you unsavory nicknames and I'm not about that life. So, Bob, someone found out about your brief run in with the Kobbers, and think you're seeking fame with them. But obviously, considering the effort you went through to come and find me here to give me this, you don't."

"I wouldn't be a good fit, no. I found that out a while back."

"And so, you want me to find out who sent this and look into their intentions."

"And, uh, do the Kobbery thing if you find out they're up to no good, yes," Bob said, nodding his head along. "I mean, you're kinda famous on forums for resolving incidents and all, so, uh, you can handle it, right?"

Bob flinched a little as the girl smiled a bit and said, "Yeah, got it. You can go home and rest easy, and I'll take care of it."

"Oh, uh... do you want pay-"

"Thrill's all the pay I need." A pause. "Food money's good, though."

"I have a hundred dollars-"

"Deal."

As Bob went on his way, the girl looked down at the letter again, her smile widening.

"Well, well. Who knew moving to Olympia would bring Kobber sheenanigans before the Kobbers get here? Gonna be one helluva job, for sure. For now..."

She heard the roar of motorcycles, their shadows cast on her. She revved up her own, her eyes meeting with the massive, ripped woman challenging her with a wild grin.

"Time to kick some ass."