|Outside the Usual Resteraunt...|
Sensing an old aquaintance from his own reality, Kaldrath arrives to meet the befuddles old monster. We now bring you to "Where the hell am I," already in session.
Zukah says, "I gots no idea whatsoever what crazy hare-brained scheme I've just snapped out of, but goddamn what a headache. Hey, I know you, don't I?" He squinnts at Kaldrath. Devi peers down off the Rooftop of the Arm's hotel as she sees Zukah streach out. She turns and flops her legs over the side to rest her face in her hands. Movement?
Kaldrath smirks as he leans against a building, "I have to say, Zukah...I smelt you before I sensed you. How the hell did you drink yourself into hiding?" He stands up, his tail twitching behind him lightly.
Zukah shrugs nonchalantly. "Awh, ya know me... (I think?)... Well, ya know my name, so ya know enough. Last I recall is a particularly nasty bender at the Grinning Makyo, havin' this huge arguement with WeeMan my imaginary (arsehole) leprechaun friend, I heard a boom, a flash in the sky... Hell, I s'pose I must've had a flashback to the old war-time days. Snippets of memories of rolling on the floor with a bucket on my head, the sky dripping blood and burning up, a big hole and a smell like farts burning. Then I woke up here. And hey!" The huge green beast sratches at his chin with gnawed-down fingernails. "Look! A beard! Musta been out of it a while."
Devi snerks slightly as she listens in shaking her head. Even though she's been of DBA for a while, Devi stil remembers the large green guy. He smelled bad and had no manners. Looks like he hasn't changed much. As for Kal, Devi tilts her head to the side, wondering if he had decided on the tournament ahead.
Kaldrath smirks, "WeeMan isn't imaginary." He crosses his arms infront of his chest, "You're getting flabby again."
Zukah snorts so hard, he chokes for a few seconds on a massive clump of phlegm. Finally hacking it out in a stream of spit that catches in his scruffy golden whiskers and dangles in thin strands from his chin, he raises baleful yellow eyes up to the Saiya-jin. "Yeah, well, not everyone likes to look as though they're settin' themselves up for a second career in gay porno movies, ya know." Scratching at his widening midsection (a bit absently and self-consciously), he lets his lazy gaze take in Kaldrath's clothing, lingering on the twitching tail. "Hey wait, yeah! I remember you now!" He nods to himself in triumph. In reality, he's thinking of Blade.
Kaldrath raises an eyebrow, "Gay Porno? You're lucky I'm used to you." He eyes Zukah, judging him for a moment, "I should throw you back into the time chamber."
The giant's eyes darken at the mention of the 'White Room' and the cloud of befuddlement lifts from his features. Face hardening, he shakes his stringy balding hair like a dog coming up out of the water. "No," he says simply. "You really shouldn't." The moment passes swiftly, and the next moment he's squinting at the sign of a nearby building, looking for a word that can conceivably mean 'liquor.'
Kaldrath studies him for a moment longer, "There's a tournament coming up, but if you'd prefer to drink yourself into another stupor, there's the Usual Restaraunt." He points with one gauntleted hand in indication.
Zukah says, "GREAT! Thanks."
The Usual Restaurant
You walk into a very large restaurant with high ceilings that leave the rafters exposed. Fluorescent lamps hang from the ceiling, adding light to the place and tables. Windows adorn the sides of the place, looking out onto the chaos that is Twisted. On some of the walls are paintings, photographs, and some holograms of different B-movies, and a number of people who tend to visit the UR as they're singing karaoke. The hardwood bar rests at the back of the place, it's surface polished and shiny and all together spotless (most of the time). Behind the bar are various beverages that are served and a giant mirror. There seems to be an inordinate amount of different drinks. A large stage rests in one of the corners of the restaurant, with an amazing sound system and a few microphones strung about it. Multiple round wood tables are in the room, and a swing door leads into the kitchen. Another door leads to the dance club, and another to the gym. And of course, there's an exit to the outside. A large fireplace rests in one of the walls, with a beautiful stone chimney that flows up and out. A long spiral staircase rests near the entrance to the kitchen, leading to a second floor balcony that overlooks the UR itself. The lights up there are a bit dimmer than those down below.
Zukah asks, "WHO IN THE EIGHTEEN SEMICIRCLES OF FLAMIN' BLUE HELL DO I NEED TO DROP TO MY KNEES AND BLOW TO GET A BARREL OF DRINK IN THIS NAMBY-PANSY PISSPOT?"
Kaldrath enters the Restaraunt as a group of skutters (Small robots with a single mechanical arm) begin to roll up to Zukah, managing to look quizical, "Tell 'em what kind you want." Zukah looks in unabashed awe at the technological wonder just begging to serve him. "Optimus mothafuckin' PRIME?" he exclaims in a hushed, reverent voice.
Kaldrath chuckles and sits at the bar, "You've seen androids that look like humans, but a simple robot impresses you?"
Zukah looks at Kaldrath from underneath his massive, hairless brows. "Those androids you're talkin' about the same ones that wouldn't stop jumpin' at me and shootin' me? Call me touchy, but I never thought much of 'em. But these things wanna SERVE me! What the hell do the deceptobots sell here? If they can build a robot that doesn't wanna hack my legs off, they might be able to get me an order of Makyo-fruit Mead. Shit makes straight ethanol seem like lemonade."
Kaldrath laughs and slaps Zukah on the back and looks at the Skutters, "Well, seeing as Makyo-fruit Mead is a little hard to come by..." The skutters clack their pincers together and roll off before one deposits a big mug full of the stuff right in front of Zukah.
Zukah hollers, "Hot damn on a cold nipple!" and snatches the drink up to swallow so quickly he might as well have dumped half of the mug onto his face. He stops midway through, beard soaked and dripping, to slam his prize down on the tabletop with an appreciative sigh. "Just like Uncle Justa usedta make in his bathtub!" he proclaims proudly, snaking a fat tongue over his lips. "Man, I love this place. Where am I again?"
Kaldrath orders a shot of Saiya-jin blood whiskey but is annoyed at the response that they don't have it. He orders a rum and then looks to Zukah, "Twisted Street. Cale and Caliga told me it's a convergence of all realities. Our universe is connected to it. You're currently in the Usual Restaurant."
Zukah sputters at the concept. "Different realities? You mean like in one of these buildings I could find a version of myself with all of his hair who never broke his special copy of Black Sabbath's third album playing frisbee with a newspaper clipping of Hulk Hogan? Wait, the name of that album was the Master of Reality. I always wondered who it meant. Was it Ozzy? If so, why didn't he go around with a crown talkin' about how he ruled reality? He never really did anything with that power. Maybe it wasn't even our reality that he meant. Maybe he was master of THIS reality!" Standing up on the table, Zukah cups his hands around his mouth. "OZZY! I PROSTRATE MYSELF BEFORE THEE AND BEG FORGIVENESS FOR MY PAST DOUBT!"
Kaldrath stares at Zukah for a solid twenty seconds before downing his freshly brought rum. "I...suppose that it's possible...but I don't think Ozzy is the master of all realities. Maybe one or two..." He blinks, "Whoever this Ozzy is, of course."
Zukah says, "He's kinda like Fozzy if Fozzy got the F out and started singing like a a seraphim-hellspawn bastard adolescent..." he continues muttering for several more seconds, only the rest of the torrent of words is obscured by the sound of his bulk thudding heavily off of the table and taking his seat again -- quite noisily, truth be told. "Who the hell brought up Sesame Street?" he suddenly asks suspisciously. "I don't talk about Big Birds in bars. Shaddup." He drains his mug in a long pull, smacks his lips again, and nestles back in his chair comfortable. Zukah's eyes close despite the alarming sounds of strain being emitted by the wood of his seat.
Kaldrath shakes his head, "You'll fit in here. That's for sure." He eyes the skutters, "Another rum."
Zukah says, "Izzat a fat joke?" His eye opens a slit to regard ol' spikey-hair warily.
Kaldrath shoots a glance at Zukah, "No. It's a statement of insanity. Everyone is insane here, in one way or another."
"Oh," Zukah replies happily, and closes his eyes again, piling his beard on his shoulder and using it as a pillow as he leans back further. "That's awright. Everyone's crazy back on that fruity planet Earth, too. What else is new...?" His breathing deepens and slows, becoming more regular. He appears to be drifting off.
Kaldrath blinks, "It really that powerful of stuff?'"
Kaldrath reaches out and pokes at Zukah with two fingers.
Zukah shrieks and flails his thick limbs around as though struggling out of a thick marsh whilst drowning. "NO, KOALA FISH MUTANT BIRD! COME BACK! I LOVE YOU!" His eyes open, bleary with tears. He sniffs. "...I love you..." he echoes pathetically, wiping at his eyes roughly. Blinking away his tears, he frowns and looks around, becoming aware of Kaldrath again gradually. "So how's yer boy these days? Finally get that hug from his old man?" he asks affably, as though no interruption had taken place.
Kaldrath tilts his head, "I...don't have a boy."
Zukah scratches his head, the lines between his brows deepening. Okay, time to fess up. "Look, I lied. I have no clue who you are. I didn't date yer mother once, did I?"
Kaldrath looks at Zukah with a deadpan face, "Uh...Kaldrath. Old Saiya-jin commander. I trained you and Vash for two years in the Hyperbolic Time chamber. We fought the Icers together..."
Zukah looks blank for a long moment. "Did we win?"
Kaldrath rubs a hand over his face, "Yes."
Zukah grins and lifts his mug (now empty). "Well then cheers to old victories, Commander!" He grins with a mouthfull of rotten fangs, indicating his mug subtly.
Kaldrath motions to the Skutters to refill his mug and sighs, "Do...you remember anything from before just a moment ago?"
Zukah looks insulted. "Oh course I do! What sort of a question is that, anyhow?" Smoothing the wiry strands of his whiskers with one hand, his eyes shift to look into the empty space just over Kaldrath's shoulder. "I remember..." an almost imperceptible pause "my bar, and the name of every rat in it. I remember my dad's name -- err, my uncle's. Well, he was my dad, but I called him uncle because I didn't know that he was my dad but he was pretty sure because... uhm.. I remember Seroni. He was Earth, right? Yeah, that was on Earth. He took off though and I never saw 'im again. Oh! Oh!" His eyes glitter. "I remember how to do this!" Springing to his feet (a bit too fast; he sways on his feet before shaking his head violently), he sucks in a breath. "KYODAIKA!"
Kaldrath mutters, "Oh lord. At least the bar itself is indistructable." He crosses his arms and waits.
The room becomes very small. At least that's how Zukah percieves things. In reality, his mass has tripled, with the always-handy side-effect of utilizing every floating fat cell in the Makyo-jin's body and burning them away, leaving nothing behind but solid, rippling muscle beneath the wart-ridden and greasy green skin (which has become almost black). "Damn!" Zukah thunders, rubbing himself in a place not generally smiled upon in public. "I forgot how tight these pants get."
Kaldrath laughs, "Well, at least you shouldn't run into any issues with someone wanting to fight you."
Zukah growls and snarls as he shrinks his body back to its "normal" form (though for him, the normal form is roughly the size of the Kyodaika forms of most others of his race). Bones crunch and pop in and out of their sockets as his skin lightens to its former sickly shade, daggerlike claws receding into his fingertips once more, fangs retreating back into his gums. When he is able to speak again, the brunt of the transformation over, he gathers the waist of his now-tattered and loose cothing around him and grumbles. "Won't stop them making fun." His eyes are lucid again; the energy expended during the change straightening his head out again. Swiftly, he reaches for his refilled mug.
Kaldrath shrugs, "So what? You've done incredible things they can only dream of, and you could woop most of them."
"And still they treat me like a skank from the local homeless shelter!" Zukah snaps. This time he downs the entire mug in one swift draught, setting it down limply on the tabletop. "What do you know? You look like you stepped right outta Masters of the Universe," he grumbles. "Kids fall over themselves tryin' to look like you, be like you, meet with you. They fall over each other gettin' outta my way."
Kaldrath ruefully laughs, "Trying to be like ME? Half the people in this universe don't want to even be near me. Don't want to know me, are afraid of me. I'm a Saiya-jin. I used to wipe planets clean, and I enjoyed the challenge of it. Now the earth is so well protected I'm not even needed there and I can't even find a challenge at the crossroads of reality. No one here cares about me."
Zukah sighs heavily, his broad shoulders drooping. "Cheers to that," he grunts.
Kaldrath orders another rum, "That doesn't mean that we just give up. It just means we don't give a shit what others think of us, we do what we need to do."
Zukah says, "Which is what, exactly?" He props himself up on the soiled palm of one hand. "What's the Commander been amusing himself with, here in the center of all alternate Beat It remixes?"
Kaldrath shrugs, "Training. I've discovered some odd connections between me and Caliga and I've worked to try to sever those. I'm training for a tournament currently. I'm hoping someone will be a challenge."
Zukah says, "Izzit a spectator tourney? Been a while since I saw a couple pituitary retards flexing at each other."
Kaldrath shrugs, "I think people can just watch, but it'll be dangerous with a couple of combatants I've seen here. I think Caliga brought the dragonballs for the tournament."
Zukah giggles, a sight quite uncomfortable for anyone in the room. He brings himself under control swiftly. "Oh, oh right. The dragonballs. Those." He nods gravely, a bubble of laughter squeaking in his throat. "So hey man, uh, Commander... You think you've got a thing for Caliga? Is that what you were alluding to? I say go with what's natural. Don't fight it, don'y worry about being judged. But I just gotta ask... You meant the magical. little orange orbb thingies when you said dragonballs, right? That isn't Saiya-jin innuendo?" He collapses, unables to hold his guffaws any longer. "I'm joking! I kid! Don't Kamehawaywho me!"
Kaldrath glares at Zukah, "We discovered my more violent form of Super Saiya-jin was draining power from him. That if either of us was killed we'd become a being so powerful and so destructive we'd destroy all realities..."
Zukah says, "So you have a God watching out to make sure you don't die ever?"
Kaldrath shakes his head, "No, just me. Cale tries to head off any issues. It's made me have to work harder to gain power however. Though, between you and me I've finally perfected a Super Saiya-jin beyond the standard form." He smirks and downs his rum.
Zukah blows a raspberry and waves the notion aside. "You know man, you could always just dye your hair golden like m-- err, like mine most naturally is. This whole super-duper-bonfire thing you people are always doing makes you prettier and all, but damn. It always looks either like you're in total agony or enjoying it way too much. And while I have you here, I'll finally know!" Leaning in closer, he whispers confidentially, "have you ever made a mess of your shorts while doing that ?And if so, was it in the front or back?"
Kaldrath sets his shotglass gently on the table and leans towards Zukah, "Just betwen you and I?" He leans in conspiratorialy, "NO!" His voice knocks half the chairs and tables in the room over and shatters a couple of windows.
Zukah frowns and irritably sets about putting his hair and beard back in order, all of it having been blown backwards by the force of the shout. "Okay, okay, just asking, jeez-us..." Patting his matted hair down firmly against the back of his nack, he sighs and makes a mental note to figure out whether or not that's gum he's feeling under his hands. "Well fuck. Good seeing you again, Vash. I don't suppose you know how to navigate this place so's I can get back to my humble squallor back home, or am I stuck here with proverbial dick in hand?"
Kaldrath rubs the bridge of his nose, "I'm Kaldrath. Vash was a human." He sighs, "Getting you back home is more difficult. We'll have to wait for Cale or Caliga to take you back to our earth." Zukah groans. "Do I have to see Caliga again? He's always on my ass about something or other. The bastard exists to keep me sober, I swear to god. He doesn't understand that alcohol is part of a Makyo's essential nutients in order to function."
Kaldrath shrugs, "You always seem to function better sober to the rest of us. But his son will work. I'm not sure the next time he'll show up. Devi would be able to get him here though."
Zukah says, "Who the hell is Debbie?"
Kaldrath says, "Devi. She's a pupil of his. She's got purple hair. She's helped save our earth a couple times, too." His finger makes a circle, indicating 'here-abouts', "She's from another reality."
Zukah says, "Oh." His face slips a bit in his palm, causing him to give a start and blink sleepily. "Well, I feel like shit goin' into other shit. Does the resteraunt of all realities offer pillows? Preferably filled with ice..."
Kaldrath shakes his head, "I just find a spot to curl up in and and pass out for a few. I've been using the arena, but they have some nice dark corners in here. A skutter might be able to bring you a pillow."
Bouncing the back of his hand against the fluff of his beard, Zukah reconsiders. "Actually, I think I can use this. I kinda like this thing... Might even keep it this time around." Shoving himself away from the table, he reaches a hand into a pocket of his ripped and mud-caked pants and tosses a few pieces of paper on the table (one zenni bill, a torn reciept from something called the Joker's Wild bar and a stripped beer bottle label), mutters something incoherent to Kaldrath and shuffles over to a corner. Settling himself to the floor with a thunderous fart, he sniffs twice, moans and goes limp.
Kaldrath shrugs and orders another drink while he considers his next course of action.