Tales of The
STAR OCEAN
By Chris 'Shades' Oliveri
EPISODE 1 – (pilot) – of Holidays and Madness
Within a Universe so vast,
We pull people from present and past.
The dimensions beyond also play a part;
They let us invoke the future, to start!
Any adventure is possible;
Any combination of character, too.
For with Ivlish breaking the bonds,
Any locale will do.
TODAY, WE YIELD:
** Rena ** Ashton ** Albel ** Bacchus ** Precis **
PROLOGUE
The Centropolis represents the ultimate bastion of might throughout EN II. Also known as Energy Nede – home of the Morphos. It was wiped clean thanks to the Symbol of Annihilation – in a concurrent timeline – but better IT than the entire Eternal Sphere!
This time around, strange happenings are about as the Christmas season approaches. For outside of Earth, the notion of 'Christmas' is far more pagan in nature. And 'Santa' – whomever he REALLY was – is but a traveling merchant with a penchant for giveaways (so long as they ultimately lead to business). But is there more to this figure than meets the eye? Perhaps, he is from outside our known Universe.
Indeed, Ivlish summoned her heroes thanks not just to the presence of Santa, but Puffy – a confirmed being from the 4D realm, the outside. It was high time our chosen heroes investigate – but first, they must pull themselves together before they could bring Hope to the Holidays.
Just a bit of focus – was that so much to ask?
ACT I
Ashton and Albel weren't exactly brothers, so much as Yin-Yang opposites who complimented one another while under the same roof. Both robed fighters who cursed the world, yet Ashton could go the way of the optimist. Albel, the more wicked of the two, tended to stay in his room and brood whilst Ashton stayed in his room if Creepy and Weepy embarrassed him.
After all, Ashton had HOBBIES. He loved his barrels. He liked to build Gingerbread houses. He cooked, and sewed. And Albel if anything was missing a piece of himself - an arm, to be exact - while Ashton's curse added a literal extension of self, thanks to the two dragons grafted upon his back. Albel cursed at others, while Ashton cursed at his own luck.
ALBEL: Out of my way, you siamese sycophant!
ASHTON: Must you always yell? That doesn’t solve any problems, ya know? Especially not MY problems.
ALBEL: I don't care about your problems, fool, when you're MY problem!
ASHTON: And why am I your problem? The dragons? Because you lost your arm to one?
ALBEL: Silence, worm, before I cut off one of YOUR worms - just as was done to me.
ASHTON: But not by ME - nor Creepy and Weepy. Look, I wanted to rid them too when they POSSESSED me, but I grew to love them.
ALBEL: Hmph - looks like they more grew on you, rather.
ASHTON: Well, maybe! But we've bonded! That's what life is about, after all - fight when you must, but ultimately be harmonious.
ALBEL: Harmonious? For all your luck, you should be one to know there's no such thing. Life's about conflict - for without conflict, there could be no winner.
ASHTON: Life's not always about winning either, Albel. Sometimes? Sure. But everything has a time and place.
ALBEL: That's right. So why are you still talking to me?
ASHRON: You know what? Fine. I'll just go back to my room, then.
ALBEL: You do that. And don't trip on that dress of yours!
ASHTON: One to talk!
Ashton stormed away just as Albel managed a smirk - he'd waste no more breath on this toxic relationship. Only a few more days, and he'd be home free. Back to planet Expel. Ivlish did her thing, and so Ashton had to do his. But with Albel?
As Ashton accessed the vieswcreen, he wondered how the others were doing. Rena and Precis were on the other side of Centropolis. Bacchus, too, was of those summoned... but he was broken. Perhaps something went awry with Ivlish's summoning spell? Who knows?
So, Ashton waited. And waited. Anxious, he pulled a bottle of ginger ale from storage. He downed it in one gulp - much to the chagrin of the dragons. For the threesome would share the gassy carbonation, for sure. Sometimes, you just create your own luck.
**********
Rena and Precis shared a more positive tolerance of one another while hunkered down in the lab. But Precis had a job to do, and Rena couldn't do squat to revive Bacchus. Upon the table Bacchus lay, more apart then a torn scarecrow out of Arlia. And upon Bacchus, Precis worked away.
PRECIS: I'm good with gadgets... sleek with circuitry! I'm electronically excellent, a machinist of magnificence.
RENA: Well rhyming doesn't prove anything, how long 'till you get Bacchus back?
PRECIS: Oh, I'll be outta his head in less than an hour. I gotta say tho, he has quite the shiny chrome-dome....
RENA: Precis! Listen, I've gathered some mistletoe just earlier... they say the stuff helps with healing.
PRECIS: Oooh, mistletoe! Rena, hang one up over Bacchie and I.
RENA: Precis, Precis. Don't objectify, please.
PRECIS: Still, he's a machine, make no mistake! And machines don't get healed, Rena - they get REPAIRED.
RENA: Bacchus just bumped his head, though. He's a living, breathing guy ya know?
PRECIS: A 'bot who slipped on a BANANA PEEL. Clearly he's not, eh – calibrated.
RENA: Ashton was a bit careless, it was HIS peel. We sent him away for now - bad luck rubs off.
PRECIS: But was it really a good idea to send Albel off, too?
RENA: They'll just haveta deal with each other, I guess.
PRECIS: Well then they'd be barking up the RIGHT tree, right?
And so, Precis continued her work on Bacchus. Indeed, his 'brain' was an honest-to-goodness computer! And yet he was allegedly sentient. No worries though, Precis knew. This repair would be a piece of cake! A solder here, a twist there – he just needs tightening! What could possibly go wrong?
Rena however grew anxious – she left Precis, to tend to her mistletoe collection. Perhaps she was a bit superstitious, sure, but she supposed it's best to steer supposedly ungrounded beliefs in something at least well grounded – like a plant!
**********
From his loft in the town of Giveaway – known to the University buffs as Princebridge – Santa watched, and waited. Why hadn't she returned!? Puffy was growing more and more on his nerves; perhaps, she too would end up on his 'naughty' list.
Of all the places to turn into his home-front, the ever-lasting (albeit somewhat artificial) snows of Giveaway were thematically in line with the whole 'Christmas' pitch. Become a legend, become someone people loved, make it a business. He and puffy entered the Eternal Sphere from 4D space just to prove those back home that they were wrong!
In any case, Santa knew of the eventual fate of the Nedian-Morphos. And so he was working up a little spell to create some more – if only Puffy would return with with the ingredients he'd asked for! Seriously – that girl needs an anklet monitor so he could check if she was being naughty or nice.
Santa didn't need to wait too long, however; in strode Puffy, with a nice big cart of gizmos, trinkets and props. The vats needed to grow elves, the electronic components, as well as simpler fare such as posterboard for advertising. All's that was still needed was a dash of magic....
PUFFY: Damn it, sir! Maybe send a few of us out instead of making me cart everything, why don't ya?
SANTA: You've got everything, right? Oh joy – things are going according to plan!
PUFFY: But why do you need to make Elves, anyway?
SANTA: I can see it now! A Mantle Morphos! A Nedian in Need....
PUFFY: Essentially, Elf on the Shelf....
SANTA: I want to Monopolize the Christmas spirit! The spirit of business! Free giveaways pave way to stuff that's really expensive. And what better then to look to the future for a race that's not evolving? A race whose planetoid will go extinct with all of them? What's more, I can hook up any Elves I grow with the BEST in Nedian monitoring tech – to truly reign supreme as a Holiday Legend! I and I alone will deem folk 'naughty' or 'nice.'
PUFFY: Christopher Kringle! Spying on your customers? Why must you be such a pervert, anyway?
SANTA: Why, I don't know what you mean – little girl.
PUFFY: I am NOT a little girl! I'm 26!
SANTA: And shorter than most Elves. Little girl.
PUFFY: You like that, don't ya? You like seeing if people are being naughty! Watching them, making lists ya CREEPER.
SANTA: Silence... little girl. Hush!
PUFFY: And drop the act! Who even says 'hush' – I get you wanna keep your brand going, but too much is TOO much sometimes. You want me to be your helper, but NOT your 'yes' girl am I right?
SANTA: Watch it, Puffy – playing Devil's Advocate won't get you promoted. Listen, there's one final ingredient we need – Mistletoe – for my plans to work. Here, take THIS.
Santa hands Puffy a truly weird piece of tech; resembling a vacuum cleaner or sorts, the end of the hose had what appeared to be a glowing red nose at the end. It had dew-ops and gidgits and other weird attachments about its assembly, but Puffy didn't need to get all that. It was already set to seek out Mistletoe, and so Puffy had but to turn on the 'on' button to get it's GPS magic up and running!
PUFFY: What in the flying hell IS that thing?
SANTA: Call this the Smell-o-matic – just follow your nose to any Mistletoe that's about. It's exceedingly rare – not even any here in Giveaway – but the nearest batch is in nearby Centropolis. Take my Psynard – since my Sleigh is off limits to you – and nab it by any means necessary for me. And let me remind you that your payout will be great.
PUFFY: Unlimited Eternal Sphere Credits?
SANTA: And then some. Now, go – and don't come back without it!
**********
Ashton kicked the lucky barrel in his room with enough force to crack the wood; he was still a bit angry about being left with Albel of all people. There was no hope for the madman, Ashton thought – he'd have a better chance of removing the dragons, even. Why did Rena and Precis have to PAIR them? They paid for the neighboring rooms (at least it wasn't the SAME room), so Ash felt bad about seeking a change. But now was no longer the time to feel 'bad' – it was time to think of solutions.
Ashton peered at the 20oz bottle of Ginger Ale he downed earlier in his sorrows. The “Golden Lie” failed to sooth him – it had caused gas in fact – but thoughts of bodily function gave Ashton an idea.
ASHTON: Creepy, Weepy – we share a lot of things. A stomach, I think. Definitely what we fart out. And most certainly shared feelings of pain and pleasure.
CREEPY: (What are you getting at, kid?)
ASHTON: Boys, I'm going to pretend that I never drank out of the bottle. I'm going to refill it.
CREEPY: (But how?)
WEEPY: (You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?)
ASHTON: Cycle of life, guys. What goes in, must come out. Besides, I don't feel like going down the hall to the restroom!
WEEPY: (Jeez, just because it's colored GOLD Ashton doesn't mean it's valuable!)
And so, Ashton let loose in the bottle with all his might. He spittered, sputtered and spattered (mostly – MOSTLY – into the bottle), and in the end, it may as well have never been drank out of. Now, just one caveat – how to get Albel to actually drink the elixir?
CREEPY: (In any other existence, this would get you into mondo legal trouble!)
WEEPY: (Folks, don't try this at home!)
ASHTON: Gee, guys – thanks for the disclaimer. I think tonight we'll be giving Albel a gift – for the gift of sharing is the most precious, golden gift of all.
ACT II
Bacchus slowly came to just as Rena entered the room. Still blurry from the anesthesia, he only noticed a blue blur run out as she seemed to call out someones name. A few more seconds, and he was sitting upright. It was all a weird dream, so it seemed – he woke up back in his personal lab, lights buzzing overhead with pulsating fervor. He looked down at his arms – they rotated slowly, stiffly – and he wrote this off as morning haze. But what if whoever had patched him up didn't do it correctly?
Last he remembered, in fact, Bacchus was tending to some errands when he slipped backward. Everything went skyward as he went black. It must have been a lucky shot, for even now he could tell that at one point his brain-processor had been rattled out of it's contanister.
Just then, he saw the blue girl enter with another individual. It was Rena – a fellow Nedian-Morphos – along with her co-hort....
BACCHUS: Press... e's? Is that you?
PRECIS: No, it's the tooth fairy! OF COURSE IT'S ME. And it's not pronounced "Press e's," it's "Pre-SIS" like, ya know, pre-SCHOOL and SISter?
RENA: Heh, "Press e's" sounds like a kind of cereal!
PRECIS: Rena! Anyways, Bacchus - can I call you Bacchie? I'm just so happy you took the chance to meet me!
BACCHUS: Well, not exactly. YOU, Precis, took a greater chance by operating on me. But I'm back, and I'm grateful.
PRECIS: Operating? You mean FIXING, right? You're a cyborg ya know!
BACCHUS: Yes, I know. And a cyborg is still very much a sentient humanoid - I'm not a robot. And please, stick with Bacchus.
RENA: But you're another Nedian! Morphos... same deal!
BACCHUS: Almost. There is a subtle difference in our DNA. A Nedian shows a slight evolutionary progression... although we are still of the same species.
PRECIS: And don't forget, we're still all Muah! But enough scientific talked y-talk... let's just have some fun!
BACCHUS: What are you implying with your use of the word 'fun?'
PRECIS: You know exactly what I mean. Or do you? Phooey, let's all just go shopping together – I'm burnt from giving you your head!
RENA: It's not what it sounds like, people! Let's get Ashton and Albel – after our break we need to get briefed by Ivlish! We're here for a reason after all.
BACCHUS: I concur. I can establish a communication, myself – but we need some time. My systems are still recovering.
????: Somebody help me!!!!
**********
The group turned to see Ashton running, frantically, into the lab. He looked panicked, if not a but 'guilty' of something – but what?
Not far behind, an enraged – seeing red, teeth bared – Albel came chasing from behind. He wanted to KILL Ashton, that's how mad he was. And he'd need to be brought under control. He swiped away with his sword, damaging some rather expensive equipment in the process, too.
ALBEL: I'll GUT you where you stand, you maggot! AND your two worms, too! NOONE bests Albel the Wicked.
ASHTON: I'm sorry, guy – I didn't think things through!
ALBEL: And you'll never have to think things through again!
BACCHUS: BACK DOWN.
Bacchus stood tall – over seven feet, to be exact – but nonetheless felt exhausted, somehow. Was it the slip n' trip? Or did Precis screw something up? In any case, he hid his doubts as he hoped to persuade Albel to stop.
RENA: Bacchus, you're still a bit woozy-
PRECIS: Rena, don't let Albel know that!
RENA: Albel, why are you so mad anyway?
ALBEL: The filth fed me HIS filth!
RENA: What do you mean?
ALBEL: Ashton offered me an 'elixir' to calm me down, because HE argued with me earlier.
ASHTON: HE argued with ME-
ALBEL: Quiet or I cut your tongue! Let's just say he poisoned me with his PISS.
RENA: Ashton, is this true?
ASHTON: I was mad! I refilled by 20oz Ginger Ale bottle, and... well ya know!
PRECIS: And you FELL for it? Maybe they should call you 'Albel the WIZZLE.'
ALBEL: YOU'LL DIE FOR THAT, NEUMANN!!!!
Bacchus couldn't stand to see his comrade harmed. He managed to get Albel into a bear-hug from behind. Yet what bothered him was the fact that Albel did not struggle – he was calm. But why?
ALBEL: Now, I'll show you all why they call me 'Albel the WICKED.'
And his hilt found its way under Bacchus' chin. The Cyborg reeled back, in pain but not down for the count. Albel, now free, connected sword with steel, sending Bacchus again to his knees. Precis had gathered her own machinery – her robotic arms – but not fast enough. A swift kick to the gut sent her flying backwards. Rena and Ashton were already ready to engage the man – Ashton's Dragon Breath met Albel's Dragon Roar, canceling each other out. The ensuing explosion shattered beakers and rocked windows. If this didn't alert the Nedian-Morphos security forces, then what would?
Rena came too just in time to see Albel standing over Ashton, ready to strike him down. She was too sore to move, now! She looked around, Bacchus was down again and Precis was seeing stars! A tear rolled down Rena's cheek as she saw Albel raise his sword, ready to stab down, down, DOWN.
????: Albel Nox, you WILL stop.
ALBEL: And who dares to interrupt me?
He turned face-to-face with none other than Ivlish. His smirk gave way to a grimace, for he had nothing but disdain towards the magician. Her powers were great – almost as though she were not of this Universe....
She was at a distance enough so Albel's sword could not reach her in time. And she had, seemingly, finished chanting her incantation ahead of time – before Albel knew of her presence. Rena and now Precis, who had come to, sighed in relief as Ivlish cast her anti-summon. Albel Nox faded away from this existence, though a liability too great and arrogant to truly contain.
PRECIS: Took you long enough, Ivlish.
**********
The Smell-o-matic was a truly ingenious device, Puffy realized. It looked a bit silly, sure – a glowing LED red-nose on a hose attached to a cylinder? But is sniffed Mistletoe, and sniffed it good. Puffy made her way through the Centropolis to a lab of sorts. Such advanced technology that seemed beyond even what she wielded, though Puffy's impressions gave way to worry as she entered a lab that was smoldering, ruined and abandoned.
What the hell HAPPENED, here? Puffy wondered as she spied broken, twisted metal and sparks everywhere. She was worry the place would erupt into flames, but her machine began ticking and beeping – it had picked up traces of Mistletoe, after all.
She investigated a back room of the lab, and sure enough – Mistletoe was strewn about, thanks to the ruckus that occurred earlier. She pulled out her communicator – time to report to Santa the news.
SANTA: You've got it, then?
PUFFY: Gee, I'm not surprised you don't already know this. Don't you wanna spy on people?
SANTA: Quit it with the games, child. You've found more then enough supply for me to finally get started with things. Only THEN will I move on to the next phase of my plan.
PUFFY: Oh, so THEN you can get people to sit on your lap? THEN you can sneak into people's homes and loom over them while they dream! Have a cookie, why don't ya!?
SANTA: Nevermind that, just return with the Mistletoe and we can start baking Elves!
PUFFY: Well look at this place I'm at, at least – it's a wreck.
Puffy waved her communicator around, so Kringle could get a nice, wide view of the ruins. This worried him – why would the once source of Mistletoe on EN II be damaged, anyway? Was somebody onto HIM, trying to destroy his means of capital?
SANTA: We need to get to them first.
PUFFY: This lab belonged to a Cyborg named 'Bacchus,' sir.
SANTA: Return to Giveaway. I'm going to begin production a bit early, Puffy. Our Elves will be doing what they do best – they'll observe, they'll report, and they'll DEAL with our interlopers, but good!
**********
The gang made their way back to the hotel, far, far away from that ravaged lab. Bacchus would get his locale in order in time – he had his OWN recovery to focus on. Rena was still confused as ever – everyone had gotten so preoccupied with their own drama, they never were even briefed on just WHY Ivlish had summoned them all here in the first place.
Well, SOMETHING about Santa. But what was even the big deal?
PRECIS: So, first off – what even happened to Albel?
IVLISH: I've sent him to the realm between out Universe and the 4D outside – the realm known as ETERNITY SPACE.
RENA: Aah, where the Wisemen were once trapped!
IVLISH: Correct. Listen, I would have briefed you sooner, but in lieu of your own drama I too was stopped. You're all aware than Santa is a 4D being, correct? He and his co-hort Puffy want to take over Christmas.
ASHTON: Take over Christmas? That's a bit generic, don't you think?
IVLISH: The problem is, he can essentially 'hack' this Universe to keep powers such as mine – powers which breach time and space – at bay. I can't go near him. In fact, if I even approach a 4D being my OWN being is threatened. And the destroyed lab has gotten 'Santa' paranoid. He figures – knows – that I have inside help.
PRECIS: Okay then – but cut to the chase! What is he actually going to do that's so bad? Can't be worse than Albel!
IVLISH: Not in the short term, no. But if he's allowed to persist, he'll change the timeline as we know it. He's literally GROWING an army – he'd breeding Nedians, Morphos, to persist even beyond the destruction of Energy Nede II.
RENA: The people of this planet would sacrifice themselves to keep the Universe safe. The Nedian race no longer evolves, and as such conquers. If someone who wanted to capitalize on EVERYTHING had an inexhaustible supply of Elven SLAVES-
IVLISH: Correct, Rena! Then HE'D be top dog in the Eternal Sphere! And worshiped.
BACCHUS: Still, something doesn't add up. Aren't there those that run the 'program' which is our lives? And just WHY can't you be near other 4D beings Ivlish?
IVLISH: Because, Bacchus, I'm NOT a 4D being – I was borne from Eternity Space. FROM Eternity Space. Not trapped as the Morphos often do to criminals. THAT'S why I have powers that are the exception – not the rule. I've been to the future, guys – the PROPER future – and Luther Lansfeld gets killed. 'Ownership' of our Universe is up for grabs.
ASHTON: And we can all bet whose grabbing for it now, right? Right? I mean SANTA, people!
PRECIS: Thank you Captain Obvious.
IVLISH: What's more, Santa was missing an ingredient needed to 'bake' his Elves, as it were. I don't know what this ingredient was, but I sense that he'd already started production a bit early....
ASHTON: Then what are we waiting for? Let's get him!
IVLISH: He'd holed in in Princebridge at the moment.
RENA: Giveaway. Man, than brings back memories. I get why he choose that town to start, I guess. Snow and all.
ASHTON: I'm ready to put him on ice! Guys, just watch me save the day.
The group glared at Ashton Anchors with annoyance and disdain. Had he not triggered Albel to act up thanks to his little stunt? He wasn't getting off that easily. And so, Ivlish decreed that HE'D be the bait when the time comes, if it came to that.
And as the party made their way out towards Giveaway, Saint Nick was already sewing the seeds of uncertainty. For in the rafters, the Elves already watched, spied, waited. Malformed Nedians and Morphos they were, about half the height of a normal man, but their purpose and resolve remained strong. They had better natural senses, even, then the Rudolph-esque Smell-o-matic. But they picked up different things, anyway.
Rena, Precis and the gang were ready for a fight, if it came to that. And Santa would be waiting.
ACT III
SANTA: Oh man, oh man! Production is already going STRONG! Puffy, what's the status on the next batch?
PUFFY: Two dozen Elves, and counting! The Spawning Vats are ready to burst!
SANTA: Excellent! Have you readied the fliers and promotional materials? I've already had talk with the heads of Giveaway; if only they knew the full extent of what I was doing!? But there's no WAY they could conceive of my genius! Too bad, the joke's on them.
PUFFY: Heh, I still think you're a perverted old man, Kringle! Been jingling your bells lately?
SANTA: That was uncalled for!
PUFFY: And when are you going to pay me, anyway? Where's my Eternal Sphere free pass?
SANTA: Oh, you'll get it alright – soon enough.
Puffy wasn't sure of what to make of that. She looked down below; Santa's Shoppe was huge! It was more of a lab, even, than Bacchus' lab was. Everything was in order; already grown (or rather, HALF-grown) Morphos were busy at work creating toys, trinkets, and whatever else to sell. And they were already the size of a militia. Puffy wondered if they'd be able to take on the Morphos defense force, in terms of numbers. Just as a 'per say' really.
Still, she wagered, it would come to that eventually. How would Santa 'take over' exactly? Vague terms he liked to use, when he didn't exactly intend on the DESTRUCTION of cities, villages, and the like. But that's why Puffy knew she was in the right – whatever she did, she was fighting the GOOD fight.
And besides – any time in this Universe was a GOOD time! Gave over? She'd be back somehow, someway! Not that anyone could stop them, anyway....
**********
One thing Ashton Anchors was certain about was that getting to Princebridge without a Psynard suck ass, as it were. The gang had to practically climb a small mountain. Indeed, where EN II was built up was BUILT UP – but the parts of it's manufactured atmosphere, terrain, and fauna that were let be were REALLY let be.
And as such, only those of privilege could access Giveaway – home of the Princebridge University. And no wonder the nomadic Kringle choose this to hunker down at. Anyone else had to take a hike to get there. A real hero's quest.
Ashton was the one designated to lead the way, while Bacchus had harnesses to carry Rena and Precis up the way. Blistering winds belied the rather peaceful conditions throughout the town proper, but that was to be expected up the side of a cliff.
ASHTON: Why me, always?
BACCHUS: Ashton, luck is something that is often manufactured. We create out own luck, in lieu of our own actions. The best course of action is to look forward, not back – and adapt from there.
RENA: Well said, Bacchus. We all know what happens when a species doesn't evolve, right?
PRECIS: Rena... cheer up! We're about to save the day!
ASHTON: Someone save MY day, please! No-one cares that a madman picked on me, then tried to kill me! It's always 'Oh, YOU made him do it.' Sure, I fed him my whiz. But he's threatened me, berated me, harassed me, and chased me! No-one cares about the toxic-ix-ic-cicity or whatever I had to deal with!
PRECIS: Shut up, Ashton!
RENA: No, let him vent. We all need to show empathy, here. Right, Ashton?
ASHTON: Thanks Rena.
Finally, the group made their way to the top. Just a little further, and they'd be in Giveaway. Already, however, they noticed changes. 'Christmas' decorum already dotted the path to town; large gift-boxes sat off the beaten path. But why?
ASHTON: This doesn't even seem so bad. I'm feeling festive, if anything. Perhaps Ivlish is lying to us?
RENA: No, Ashton. I trust Ivlish. I just feel it.
BACCHUS: She can tell. Rena's an empath at heart. But it also would make no sense for Ivlish to lie or 'compete' with Santa – she'd have no motivation to do so. Her claim of origin is true – there is a subtle difference between a 4D being and a normal being my scanners sense. And she's pure energy.
Just then, the gift boxes popped open to reveal... Nedians? Morphos? In any case, the gang was bewildered by their looks. They stood half the height of a normal person and were dressed in odd garb; green and yellow and with pointed shoe. And pointy sword.
ASHTON: Swords? Now, LET'S.
RENA: Wait, maybe we can reason with them-
These things descended upon the group like rabid dogs, but were dispatched with precision and regret. They spoke no common tongue, despite pleas from Rena to stop or reason; instead, they came, and swarmed. No less than two dozen had ambushed the group, from all corners. Strength in numbers was their tune, but as individuals? Not so much.
RENA: … Or, maybe not.
BACCHUS: It seems these guys were given specific marching orders – while I don't believe the town is in any danger at this time, it is prudent that we act fast nonetheless.
PRECIS: Yeah, I HOPE these guys aren't attacking other people.
ASHTON: Santa wants to stop US only. He NEEDS the others to sell his brand to, for now!
BACCHUS: For now.
ASHTON: … are you copying me?
BACCHUS: I am not. But I am implying that down the line, we don't know WHAT Kringle has in store. The people are ultimately just a game to him, dispensable maybe not not but certainly later.
RENA: A true psycho, it seems!
PRECIS: That's putting it lightly, Rena.
ASHTON: Then what does that make Albel?
RENA: I'd say a toxic narcissist.
ASHTON: And me?
PRECIS: A pansy candy-ass! Heh, maybe after you study medicine, Rena, you should take psychology courses. You'd kick 'em clean!
RENA: Yes, after we kick Santa clean!
**********
Puffy stuck out her nose to see if the interlopers were approaching. Well, not HER nose – the Smell-o-matic's Rudolphian nose. Santa changed it's settings – no need for any more mistletoe – to detect raw Symbologic energy. For anyone poised to stop him would have to be a powerful enough bunch.
And there they were, the lot of them. Puffy squinted, looking down from the highest tower of the shoppe. It looked to be... to be....
A man with dragons on his back. A large Morphos cyborg. A petite girl with pointy ears in blue. And an even smaller girl with gadgets on her back.
PUFFY: IT'S THOSE ACCURSED HEROES AGAIN!!!! Santa, I've dealt with this bunch, bunches of times!
SANTA: Lemme see! Oh, wait – yes, I've sold a thing or two to these guys in another existence. Well then, let's send them to ANOTHER existence! I know why they're here – let's make them gone.
PUFFY: Less talk, more walk – sir. The catapults?
SANTA: Good thinking. Elves, load up the flingers!
PUFFY: Those names, though!
The Elven mutants loaded the mechanisms with what looked to be – coal? Except this coal had a whitish-blue glow about it – no doubt some warped form of Morphose war tech in the guise of Christmas y-goodness. Santa was about to leave some explosive coal in their stockings!
PUFFY: Ready! Aim! Aim! … aim!
SANTA: GET ON WITH IT, WOMAN!
PUFFY: FIRE!!!!
Six flaming coals soared through the skies, arching down towards our foursome of heroes. Bacchus was the first to spot the danger, and the group went into dodge as the projectiles splintered around them. The explosions rocked their world, but they were safe for now – it was no surprise that Santa would employ such a a payload to meet his ends. Beneath his facade of Holiday cheer was the markings of a dictator.
BACCHUS: Group, stand behind me. I'm employing my force-fields now.
PRECIS: Oh, look – reinforcements!
BACCHUS: I sent for them, of course. The Morphos Defense Force. Precis, flank me and launch some missiles of your own!
SANTA: What are they saying? What does the Smell-o-matic read?
PUFFY: I can't hear 'em, sir – even with IT.
SANTA: I'm sending out the Elves, they're about to breach the door. And Puffy?
PUFFY: What it is?
SANTA: I'm docking your pay!
PUFFY: What the ***k, Kringle!?
SANTA: Want that to change? Don't fail me again.
PUFFY: How dare you, after all I've done--- HEADS UP!!!!
Santa and Puffy jumped down just in time, just as a small cruise missile blasted their uppermost tower apart. Now, it was the awesome foursome’s turn to clean house!
**********
As the Nedian Defense Force kept extraneous Elves at bay – damn, they sure could jump from impressive heights out of the windows of Santa's Shoppe – Bacchus, Ashton and the group barged through the main gates. At this point, it was too late for Santa to subvert the Nedian-Morphos – seems the Cyborg let them in on his plans. So much for subterfuge.
SANTA: No matter – as long as I take care of these guys now, I'll just re-set and re-enter the Eternal Sphere! I cannot be denied!
PRECIS: You wanna bet, ya wannabe?
SANTA: Who? How DARE you!!!!
Santa lifted one of his hands and began to form a fireball. He flung it right at Precis, and was it FAST. She couldn't move in time! But Ashton had it covered as Weepy deflected the shot with his Dragon-Ice. Again, Santa lifted his other arm and readied an Icy Spell, and this time – you've guessed it – Creepy deflected that with his Dragon-fire! Ashton then went straight up to Kringle and held him, swords a-pointing.
PRECIS: Ashton....
ASHTON: Guys, I've got Santa! Bacchus, tear down those catapults!
PUFFY: Not if I can help it!!!!
RENA: YOU!!!!
PUFFY: I've always intended for you guys to loose one of my contests. I've always wanted revenge. But you've always come out on top.
PRECIS: Well, we're just THAT good. We're not chosen to save the Universe for no reason, ya know?
PUFFY: But now I've realized, I was WRONG. This isn't the good fight, not here, not now.
SANTA: Puffy, what are you doing! YOU CAN TURN THE TIDE!!!!
PUFFY: You're right, Old Man. And you've used me for long enough. So you know what? I'm kicking you out!
SANTA: Hah! Out of the Eternal Sphere? I'll just reset the system, start anew – you know the deal!
PUFFY: No, Santa. I'm sending you... to ETERNITY SPACE.
SANTA: What? But how?
With that, Puffy gave the main control panel a large BANG. Sumbological ability is common in this Universe, sure. But a 4D being who knows one is a commodity. Puffy and Santa were just that – and so she finished what Ivlish started. Magic and technology working in tandem produces interesting results. A bright flash of light, a man screaming at the top of his lungs, all Elves and Nedians stopped in their tracks. And with that, Santa was trapped in Eternity Space for good.
EPILOGUE
Finally – FINALLY – everyone could celebrate Christmas. A large cake sat in the middle of the now-repaired laboratory, and Bacchus was feeling better than usual. Rena and Precis worked together just a bit more than usual, and as such he was back in spades!
RENA: I'm glad that's all over! Let's dig in, people!
PUFFY: Yes, let's!
PRECIS: I'm glad you decided to to the right thing for once, Puffy.
PUFFY: Well, you know – I just wanted to spread holiday cheer. I never should have been involved with that shady merchant in the first place. He brainwashed me, in spite of my disdain towards him.
Albel trapped in Eternity Space, they open a chat to mock him as they celebrate Christmas.
IVLISH: And I'm glad, too – we've averted disaster, even if it would have been gradual!
BACCHUS: How it it Ivlish that you can be around Puffy anyway – a 4D being?
Just then, a few Elves came out and offered the group some Mistletoe. Indeed, it seems that miracles are sometimes possible. After their party was done, they would say their goodbyes. For now, the takeaway lesson is that there is potentially good in everyone – only, some people have a much, much harder lesson to learn than other.
Meanwhile, in Eternity Space....
ALBEL: Get that damn bears outta my face, old man!
SANTA: Young fool, you're on my naughty list FOREVER.
ALBEL: I'll show you the meaning of forever... OLD fool. I'll cut you into ribbons.
The duo fought and fought, with no end in sight. They would learn someday to get along – perhaps Ivlish would summon Albel again. Someday, in the future. The FAR future.
FIN
STAR OCEAN
By Chris 'Shades' Oliveri
EPISODE 1 – (pilot) – of Holidays and Madness
Within a Universe so vast,
We pull people from present and past.
The dimensions beyond also play a part;
They let us invoke the future, to start!
Any adventure is possible;
Any combination of character, too.
For with Ivlish breaking the bonds,
Any locale will do.
TODAY, WE YIELD:
** Rena ** Ashton ** Albel ** Bacchus ** Precis **
PROLOGUE
The Centropolis represents the ultimate bastion of might throughout EN II. Also known as Energy Nede – home of the Morphos. It was wiped clean thanks to the Symbol of Annihilation – in a concurrent timeline – but better IT than the entire Eternal Sphere!
This time around, strange happenings are about as the Christmas season approaches. For outside of Earth, the notion of 'Christmas' is far more pagan in nature. And 'Santa' – whomever he REALLY was – is but a traveling merchant with a penchant for giveaways (so long as they ultimately lead to business). But is there more to this figure than meets the eye? Perhaps, he is from outside our known Universe.
Indeed, Ivlish summoned her heroes thanks not just to the presence of Santa, but Puffy – a confirmed being from the 4D realm, the outside. It was high time our chosen heroes investigate – but first, they must pull themselves together before they could bring Hope to the Holidays.
Just a bit of focus – was that so much to ask?
ACT I
Ashton and Albel weren't exactly brothers, so much as Yin-Yang opposites who complimented one another while under the same roof. Both robed fighters who cursed the world, yet Ashton could go the way of the optimist. Albel, the more wicked of the two, tended to stay in his room and brood whilst Ashton stayed in his room if Creepy and Weepy embarrassed him.
After all, Ashton had HOBBIES. He loved his barrels. He liked to build Gingerbread houses. He cooked, and sewed. And Albel if anything was missing a piece of himself - an arm, to be exact - while Ashton's curse added a literal extension of self, thanks to the two dragons grafted upon his back. Albel cursed at others, while Ashton cursed at his own luck.
ALBEL: Out of my way, you siamese sycophant!
ASHTON: Must you always yell? That doesn’t solve any problems, ya know? Especially not MY problems.
ALBEL: I don't care about your problems, fool, when you're MY problem!
ASHTON: And why am I your problem? The dragons? Because you lost your arm to one?
ALBEL: Silence, worm, before I cut off one of YOUR worms - just as was done to me.
ASHTON: But not by ME - nor Creepy and Weepy. Look, I wanted to rid them too when they POSSESSED me, but I grew to love them.
ALBEL: Hmph - looks like they more grew on you, rather.
ASHTON: Well, maybe! But we've bonded! That's what life is about, after all - fight when you must, but ultimately be harmonious.
ALBEL: Harmonious? For all your luck, you should be one to know there's no such thing. Life's about conflict - for without conflict, there could be no winner.
ASHTON: Life's not always about winning either, Albel. Sometimes? Sure. But everything has a time and place.
ALBEL: That's right. So why are you still talking to me?
ASHRON: You know what? Fine. I'll just go back to my room, then.
ALBEL: You do that. And don't trip on that dress of yours!
ASHTON: One to talk!
Ashton stormed away just as Albel managed a smirk - he'd waste no more breath on this toxic relationship. Only a few more days, and he'd be home free. Back to planet Expel. Ivlish did her thing, and so Ashton had to do his. But with Albel?
As Ashton accessed the vieswcreen, he wondered how the others were doing. Rena and Precis were on the other side of Centropolis. Bacchus, too, was of those summoned... but he was broken. Perhaps something went awry with Ivlish's summoning spell? Who knows?
So, Ashton waited. And waited. Anxious, he pulled a bottle of ginger ale from storage. He downed it in one gulp - much to the chagrin of the dragons. For the threesome would share the gassy carbonation, for sure. Sometimes, you just create your own luck.
**********
Rena and Precis shared a more positive tolerance of one another while hunkered down in the lab. But Precis had a job to do, and Rena couldn't do squat to revive Bacchus. Upon the table Bacchus lay, more apart then a torn scarecrow out of Arlia. And upon Bacchus, Precis worked away.
PRECIS: I'm good with gadgets... sleek with circuitry! I'm electronically excellent, a machinist of magnificence.
RENA: Well rhyming doesn't prove anything, how long 'till you get Bacchus back?
PRECIS: Oh, I'll be outta his head in less than an hour. I gotta say tho, he has quite the shiny chrome-dome....
RENA: Precis! Listen, I've gathered some mistletoe just earlier... they say the stuff helps with healing.
PRECIS: Oooh, mistletoe! Rena, hang one up over Bacchie and I.
RENA: Precis, Precis. Don't objectify, please.
PRECIS: Still, he's a machine, make no mistake! And machines don't get healed, Rena - they get REPAIRED.
RENA: Bacchus just bumped his head, though. He's a living, breathing guy ya know?
PRECIS: A 'bot who slipped on a BANANA PEEL. Clearly he's not, eh – calibrated.
RENA: Ashton was a bit careless, it was HIS peel. We sent him away for now - bad luck rubs off.
PRECIS: But was it really a good idea to send Albel off, too?
RENA: They'll just haveta deal with each other, I guess.
PRECIS: Well then they'd be barking up the RIGHT tree, right?
And so, Precis continued her work on Bacchus. Indeed, his 'brain' was an honest-to-goodness computer! And yet he was allegedly sentient. No worries though, Precis knew. This repair would be a piece of cake! A solder here, a twist there – he just needs tightening! What could possibly go wrong?
Rena however grew anxious – she left Precis, to tend to her mistletoe collection. Perhaps she was a bit superstitious, sure, but she supposed it's best to steer supposedly ungrounded beliefs in something at least well grounded – like a plant!
**********
From his loft in the town of Giveaway – known to the University buffs as Princebridge – Santa watched, and waited. Why hadn't she returned!? Puffy was growing more and more on his nerves; perhaps, she too would end up on his 'naughty' list.
Of all the places to turn into his home-front, the ever-lasting (albeit somewhat artificial) snows of Giveaway were thematically in line with the whole 'Christmas' pitch. Become a legend, become someone people loved, make it a business. He and puffy entered the Eternal Sphere from 4D space just to prove those back home that they were wrong!
In any case, Santa knew of the eventual fate of the Nedian-Morphos. And so he was working up a little spell to create some more – if only Puffy would return with with the ingredients he'd asked for! Seriously – that girl needs an anklet monitor so he could check if she was being naughty or nice.
Santa didn't need to wait too long, however; in strode Puffy, with a nice big cart of gizmos, trinkets and props. The vats needed to grow elves, the electronic components, as well as simpler fare such as posterboard for advertising. All's that was still needed was a dash of magic....
PUFFY: Damn it, sir! Maybe send a few of us out instead of making me cart everything, why don't ya?
SANTA: You've got everything, right? Oh joy – things are going according to plan!
PUFFY: But why do you need to make Elves, anyway?
SANTA: I can see it now! A Mantle Morphos! A Nedian in Need....
PUFFY: Essentially, Elf on the Shelf....
SANTA: I want to Monopolize the Christmas spirit! The spirit of business! Free giveaways pave way to stuff that's really expensive. And what better then to look to the future for a race that's not evolving? A race whose planetoid will go extinct with all of them? What's more, I can hook up any Elves I grow with the BEST in Nedian monitoring tech – to truly reign supreme as a Holiday Legend! I and I alone will deem folk 'naughty' or 'nice.'
PUFFY: Christopher Kringle! Spying on your customers? Why must you be such a pervert, anyway?
SANTA: Why, I don't know what you mean – little girl.
PUFFY: I am NOT a little girl! I'm 26!
SANTA: And shorter than most Elves. Little girl.
PUFFY: You like that, don't ya? You like seeing if people are being naughty! Watching them, making lists ya CREEPER.
SANTA: Silence... little girl. Hush!
PUFFY: And drop the act! Who even says 'hush' – I get you wanna keep your brand going, but too much is TOO much sometimes. You want me to be your helper, but NOT your 'yes' girl am I right?
SANTA: Watch it, Puffy – playing Devil's Advocate won't get you promoted. Listen, there's one final ingredient we need – Mistletoe – for my plans to work. Here, take THIS.
Santa hands Puffy a truly weird piece of tech; resembling a vacuum cleaner or sorts, the end of the hose had what appeared to be a glowing red nose at the end. It had dew-ops and gidgits and other weird attachments about its assembly, but Puffy didn't need to get all that. It was already set to seek out Mistletoe, and so Puffy had but to turn on the 'on' button to get it's GPS magic up and running!
PUFFY: What in the flying hell IS that thing?
SANTA: Call this the Smell-o-matic – just follow your nose to any Mistletoe that's about. It's exceedingly rare – not even any here in Giveaway – but the nearest batch is in nearby Centropolis. Take my Psynard – since my Sleigh is off limits to you – and nab it by any means necessary for me. And let me remind you that your payout will be great.
PUFFY: Unlimited Eternal Sphere Credits?
SANTA: And then some. Now, go – and don't come back without it!
**********
Ashton kicked the lucky barrel in his room with enough force to crack the wood; he was still a bit angry about being left with Albel of all people. There was no hope for the madman, Ashton thought – he'd have a better chance of removing the dragons, even. Why did Rena and Precis have to PAIR them? They paid for the neighboring rooms (at least it wasn't the SAME room), so Ash felt bad about seeking a change. But now was no longer the time to feel 'bad' – it was time to think of solutions.
Ashton peered at the 20oz bottle of Ginger Ale he downed earlier in his sorrows. The “Golden Lie” failed to sooth him – it had caused gas in fact – but thoughts of bodily function gave Ashton an idea.
ASHTON: Creepy, Weepy – we share a lot of things. A stomach, I think. Definitely what we fart out. And most certainly shared feelings of pain and pleasure.
CREEPY: (What are you getting at, kid?)
ASHTON: Boys, I'm going to pretend that I never drank out of the bottle. I'm going to refill it.
CREEPY: (But how?)
WEEPY: (You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?)
ASHTON: Cycle of life, guys. What goes in, must come out. Besides, I don't feel like going down the hall to the restroom!
WEEPY: (Jeez, just because it's colored GOLD Ashton doesn't mean it's valuable!)
And so, Ashton let loose in the bottle with all his might. He spittered, sputtered and spattered (mostly – MOSTLY – into the bottle), and in the end, it may as well have never been drank out of. Now, just one caveat – how to get Albel to actually drink the elixir?
CREEPY: (In any other existence, this would get you into mondo legal trouble!)
WEEPY: (Folks, don't try this at home!)
ASHTON: Gee, guys – thanks for the disclaimer. I think tonight we'll be giving Albel a gift – for the gift of sharing is the most precious, golden gift of all.
ACT II
Bacchus slowly came to just as Rena entered the room. Still blurry from the anesthesia, he only noticed a blue blur run out as she seemed to call out someones name. A few more seconds, and he was sitting upright. It was all a weird dream, so it seemed – he woke up back in his personal lab, lights buzzing overhead with pulsating fervor. He looked down at his arms – they rotated slowly, stiffly – and he wrote this off as morning haze. But what if whoever had patched him up didn't do it correctly?
Last he remembered, in fact, Bacchus was tending to some errands when he slipped backward. Everything went skyward as he went black. It must have been a lucky shot, for even now he could tell that at one point his brain-processor had been rattled out of it's contanister.
Just then, he saw the blue girl enter with another individual. It was Rena – a fellow Nedian-Morphos – along with her co-hort....
BACCHUS: Press... e's? Is that you?
PRECIS: No, it's the tooth fairy! OF COURSE IT'S ME. And it's not pronounced "Press e's," it's "Pre-SIS" like, ya know, pre-SCHOOL and SISter?
RENA: Heh, "Press e's" sounds like a kind of cereal!
PRECIS: Rena! Anyways, Bacchus - can I call you Bacchie? I'm just so happy you took the chance to meet me!
BACCHUS: Well, not exactly. YOU, Precis, took a greater chance by operating on me. But I'm back, and I'm grateful.
PRECIS: Operating? You mean FIXING, right? You're a cyborg ya know!
BACCHUS: Yes, I know. And a cyborg is still very much a sentient humanoid - I'm not a robot. And please, stick with Bacchus.
RENA: But you're another Nedian! Morphos... same deal!
BACCHUS: Almost. There is a subtle difference in our DNA. A Nedian shows a slight evolutionary progression... although we are still of the same species.
PRECIS: And don't forget, we're still all Muah! But enough scientific talked y-talk... let's just have some fun!
BACCHUS: What are you implying with your use of the word 'fun?'
PRECIS: You know exactly what I mean. Or do you? Phooey, let's all just go shopping together – I'm burnt from giving you your head!
RENA: It's not what it sounds like, people! Let's get Ashton and Albel – after our break we need to get briefed by Ivlish! We're here for a reason after all.
BACCHUS: I concur. I can establish a communication, myself – but we need some time. My systems are still recovering.
????: Somebody help me!!!!
**********
The group turned to see Ashton running, frantically, into the lab. He looked panicked, if not a but 'guilty' of something – but what?
Not far behind, an enraged – seeing red, teeth bared – Albel came chasing from behind. He wanted to KILL Ashton, that's how mad he was. And he'd need to be brought under control. He swiped away with his sword, damaging some rather expensive equipment in the process, too.
ALBEL: I'll GUT you where you stand, you maggot! AND your two worms, too! NOONE bests Albel the Wicked.
ASHTON: I'm sorry, guy – I didn't think things through!
ALBEL: And you'll never have to think things through again!
BACCHUS: BACK DOWN.
Bacchus stood tall – over seven feet, to be exact – but nonetheless felt exhausted, somehow. Was it the slip n' trip? Or did Precis screw something up? In any case, he hid his doubts as he hoped to persuade Albel to stop.
RENA: Bacchus, you're still a bit woozy-
PRECIS: Rena, don't let Albel know that!
RENA: Albel, why are you so mad anyway?
ALBEL: The filth fed me HIS filth!
RENA: What do you mean?
ALBEL: Ashton offered me an 'elixir' to calm me down, because HE argued with me earlier.
ASHTON: HE argued with ME-
ALBEL: Quiet or I cut your tongue! Let's just say he poisoned me with his PISS.
RENA: Ashton, is this true?
ASHTON: I was mad! I refilled by 20oz Ginger Ale bottle, and... well ya know!
PRECIS: And you FELL for it? Maybe they should call you 'Albel the WIZZLE.'
ALBEL: YOU'LL DIE FOR THAT, NEUMANN!!!!
Bacchus couldn't stand to see his comrade harmed. He managed to get Albel into a bear-hug from behind. Yet what bothered him was the fact that Albel did not struggle – he was calm. But why?
ALBEL: Now, I'll show you all why they call me 'Albel the WICKED.'
And his hilt found its way under Bacchus' chin. The Cyborg reeled back, in pain but not down for the count. Albel, now free, connected sword with steel, sending Bacchus again to his knees. Precis had gathered her own machinery – her robotic arms – but not fast enough. A swift kick to the gut sent her flying backwards. Rena and Ashton were already ready to engage the man – Ashton's Dragon Breath met Albel's Dragon Roar, canceling each other out. The ensuing explosion shattered beakers and rocked windows. If this didn't alert the Nedian-Morphos security forces, then what would?
Rena came too just in time to see Albel standing over Ashton, ready to strike him down. She was too sore to move, now! She looked around, Bacchus was down again and Precis was seeing stars! A tear rolled down Rena's cheek as she saw Albel raise his sword, ready to stab down, down, DOWN.
????: Albel Nox, you WILL stop.
ALBEL: And who dares to interrupt me?
He turned face-to-face with none other than Ivlish. His smirk gave way to a grimace, for he had nothing but disdain towards the magician. Her powers were great – almost as though she were not of this Universe....
She was at a distance enough so Albel's sword could not reach her in time. And she had, seemingly, finished chanting her incantation ahead of time – before Albel knew of her presence. Rena and now Precis, who had come to, sighed in relief as Ivlish cast her anti-summon. Albel Nox faded away from this existence, though a liability too great and arrogant to truly contain.
PRECIS: Took you long enough, Ivlish.
**********
The Smell-o-matic was a truly ingenious device, Puffy realized. It looked a bit silly, sure – a glowing LED red-nose on a hose attached to a cylinder? But is sniffed Mistletoe, and sniffed it good. Puffy made her way through the Centropolis to a lab of sorts. Such advanced technology that seemed beyond even what she wielded, though Puffy's impressions gave way to worry as she entered a lab that was smoldering, ruined and abandoned.
What the hell HAPPENED, here? Puffy wondered as she spied broken, twisted metal and sparks everywhere. She was worry the place would erupt into flames, but her machine began ticking and beeping – it had picked up traces of Mistletoe, after all.
She investigated a back room of the lab, and sure enough – Mistletoe was strewn about, thanks to the ruckus that occurred earlier. She pulled out her communicator – time to report to Santa the news.
SANTA: You've got it, then?
PUFFY: Gee, I'm not surprised you don't already know this. Don't you wanna spy on people?
SANTA: Quit it with the games, child. You've found more then enough supply for me to finally get started with things. Only THEN will I move on to the next phase of my plan.
PUFFY: Oh, so THEN you can get people to sit on your lap? THEN you can sneak into people's homes and loom over them while they dream! Have a cookie, why don't ya!?
SANTA: Nevermind that, just return with the Mistletoe and we can start baking Elves!
PUFFY: Well look at this place I'm at, at least – it's a wreck.
Puffy waved her communicator around, so Kringle could get a nice, wide view of the ruins. This worried him – why would the once source of Mistletoe on EN II be damaged, anyway? Was somebody onto HIM, trying to destroy his means of capital?
SANTA: We need to get to them first.
PUFFY: This lab belonged to a Cyborg named 'Bacchus,' sir.
SANTA: Return to Giveaway. I'm going to begin production a bit early, Puffy. Our Elves will be doing what they do best – they'll observe, they'll report, and they'll DEAL with our interlopers, but good!
**********
The gang made their way back to the hotel, far, far away from that ravaged lab. Bacchus would get his locale in order in time – he had his OWN recovery to focus on. Rena was still confused as ever – everyone had gotten so preoccupied with their own drama, they never were even briefed on just WHY Ivlish had summoned them all here in the first place.
Well, SOMETHING about Santa. But what was even the big deal?
PRECIS: So, first off – what even happened to Albel?
IVLISH: I've sent him to the realm between out Universe and the 4D outside – the realm known as ETERNITY SPACE.
RENA: Aah, where the Wisemen were once trapped!
IVLISH: Correct. Listen, I would have briefed you sooner, but in lieu of your own drama I too was stopped. You're all aware than Santa is a 4D being, correct? He and his co-hort Puffy want to take over Christmas.
ASHTON: Take over Christmas? That's a bit generic, don't you think?
IVLISH: The problem is, he can essentially 'hack' this Universe to keep powers such as mine – powers which breach time and space – at bay. I can't go near him. In fact, if I even approach a 4D being my OWN being is threatened. And the destroyed lab has gotten 'Santa' paranoid. He figures – knows – that I have inside help.
PRECIS: Okay then – but cut to the chase! What is he actually going to do that's so bad? Can't be worse than Albel!
IVLISH: Not in the short term, no. But if he's allowed to persist, he'll change the timeline as we know it. He's literally GROWING an army – he'd breeding Nedians, Morphos, to persist even beyond the destruction of Energy Nede II.
RENA: The people of this planet would sacrifice themselves to keep the Universe safe. The Nedian race no longer evolves, and as such conquers. If someone who wanted to capitalize on EVERYTHING had an inexhaustible supply of Elven SLAVES-
IVLISH: Correct, Rena! Then HE'D be top dog in the Eternal Sphere! And worshiped.
BACCHUS: Still, something doesn't add up. Aren't there those that run the 'program' which is our lives? And just WHY can't you be near other 4D beings Ivlish?
IVLISH: Because, Bacchus, I'm NOT a 4D being – I was borne from Eternity Space. FROM Eternity Space. Not trapped as the Morphos often do to criminals. THAT'S why I have powers that are the exception – not the rule. I've been to the future, guys – the PROPER future – and Luther Lansfeld gets killed. 'Ownership' of our Universe is up for grabs.
ASHTON: And we can all bet whose grabbing for it now, right? Right? I mean SANTA, people!
PRECIS: Thank you Captain Obvious.
IVLISH: What's more, Santa was missing an ingredient needed to 'bake' his Elves, as it were. I don't know what this ingredient was, but I sense that he'd already started production a bit early....
ASHTON: Then what are we waiting for? Let's get him!
IVLISH: He'd holed in in Princebridge at the moment.
RENA: Giveaway. Man, than brings back memories. I get why he choose that town to start, I guess. Snow and all.
ASHTON: I'm ready to put him on ice! Guys, just watch me save the day.
The group glared at Ashton Anchors with annoyance and disdain. Had he not triggered Albel to act up thanks to his little stunt? He wasn't getting off that easily. And so, Ivlish decreed that HE'D be the bait when the time comes, if it came to that.
And as the party made their way out towards Giveaway, Saint Nick was already sewing the seeds of uncertainty. For in the rafters, the Elves already watched, spied, waited. Malformed Nedians and Morphos they were, about half the height of a normal man, but their purpose and resolve remained strong. They had better natural senses, even, then the Rudolph-esque Smell-o-matic. But they picked up different things, anyway.
Rena, Precis and the gang were ready for a fight, if it came to that. And Santa would be waiting.
ACT III
SANTA: Oh man, oh man! Production is already going STRONG! Puffy, what's the status on the next batch?
PUFFY: Two dozen Elves, and counting! The Spawning Vats are ready to burst!
SANTA: Excellent! Have you readied the fliers and promotional materials? I've already had talk with the heads of Giveaway; if only they knew the full extent of what I was doing!? But there's no WAY they could conceive of my genius! Too bad, the joke's on them.
PUFFY: Heh, I still think you're a perverted old man, Kringle! Been jingling your bells lately?
SANTA: That was uncalled for!
PUFFY: And when are you going to pay me, anyway? Where's my Eternal Sphere free pass?
SANTA: Oh, you'll get it alright – soon enough.
Puffy wasn't sure of what to make of that. She looked down below; Santa's Shoppe was huge! It was more of a lab, even, than Bacchus' lab was. Everything was in order; already grown (or rather, HALF-grown) Morphos were busy at work creating toys, trinkets, and whatever else to sell. And they were already the size of a militia. Puffy wondered if they'd be able to take on the Morphos defense force, in terms of numbers. Just as a 'per say' really.
Still, she wagered, it would come to that eventually. How would Santa 'take over' exactly? Vague terms he liked to use, when he didn't exactly intend on the DESTRUCTION of cities, villages, and the like. But that's why Puffy knew she was in the right – whatever she did, she was fighting the GOOD fight.
And besides – any time in this Universe was a GOOD time! Gave over? She'd be back somehow, someway! Not that anyone could stop them, anyway....
**********
One thing Ashton Anchors was certain about was that getting to Princebridge without a Psynard suck ass, as it were. The gang had to practically climb a small mountain. Indeed, where EN II was built up was BUILT UP – but the parts of it's manufactured atmosphere, terrain, and fauna that were let be were REALLY let be.
And as such, only those of privilege could access Giveaway – home of the Princebridge University. And no wonder the nomadic Kringle choose this to hunker down at. Anyone else had to take a hike to get there. A real hero's quest.
Ashton was the one designated to lead the way, while Bacchus had harnesses to carry Rena and Precis up the way. Blistering winds belied the rather peaceful conditions throughout the town proper, but that was to be expected up the side of a cliff.
ASHTON: Why me, always?
BACCHUS: Ashton, luck is something that is often manufactured. We create out own luck, in lieu of our own actions. The best course of action is to look forward, not back – and adapt from there.
RENA: Well said, Bacchus. We all know what happens when a species doesn't evolve, right?
PRECIS: Rena... cheer up! We're about to save the day!
ASHTON: Someone save MY day, please! No-one cares that a madman picked on me, then tried to kill me! It's always 'Oh, YOU made him do it.' Sure, I fed him my whiz. But he's threatened me, berated me, harassed me, and chased me! No-one cares about the toxic-ix-ic-cicity or whatever I had to deal with!
PRECIS: Shut up, Ashton!
RENA: No, let him vent. We all need to show empathy, here. Right, Ashton?
ASHTON: Thanks Rena.
Finally, the group made their way to the top. Just a little further, and they'd be in Giveaway. Already, however, they noticed changes. 'Christmas' decorum already dotted the path to town; large gift-boxes sat off the beaten path. But why?
ASHTON: This doesn't even seem so bad. I'm feeling festive, if anything. Perhaps Ivlish is lying to us?
RENA: No, Ashton. I trust Ivlish. I just feel it.
BACCHUS: She can tell. Rena's an empath at heart. But it also would make no sense for Ivlish to lie or 'compete' with Santa – she'd have no motivation to do so. Her claim of origin is true – there is a subtle difference between a 4D being and a normal being my scanners sense. And she's pure energy.
Just then, the gift boxes popped open to reveal... Nedians? Morphos? In any case, the gang was bewildered by their looks. They stood half the height of a normal person and were dressed in odd garb; green and yellow and with pointed shoe. And pointy sword.
ASHTON: Swords? Now, LET'S.
RENA: Wait, maybe we can reason with them-
These things descended upon the group like rabid dogs, but were dispatched with precision and regret. They spoke no common tongue, despite pleas from Rena to stop or reason; instead, they came, and swarmed. No less than two dozen had ambushed the group, from all corners. Strength in numbers was their tune, but as individuals? Not so much.
RENA: … Or, maybe not.
BACCHUS: It seems these guys were given specific marching orders – while I don't believe the town is in any danger at this time, it is prudent that we act fast nonetheless.
PRECIS: Yeah, I HOPE these guys aren't attacking other people.
ASHTON: Santa wants to stop US only. He NEEDS the others to sell his brand to, for now!
BACCHUS: For now.
ASHTON: … are you copying me?
BACCHUS: I am not. But I am implying that down the line, we don't know WHAT Kringle has in store. The people are ultimately just a game to him, dispensable maybe not not but certainly later.
RENA: A true psycho, it seems!
PRECIS: That's putting it lightly, Rena.
ASHTON: Then what does that make Albel?
RENA: I'd say a toxic narcissist.
ASHTON: And me?
PRECIS: A pansy candy-ass! Heh, maybe after you study medicine, Rena, you should take psychology courses. You'd kick 'em clean!
RENA: Yes, after we kick Santa clean!
**********
Puffy stuck out her nose to see if the interlopers were approaching. Well, not HER nose – the Smell-o-matic's Rudolphian nose. Santa changed it's settings – no need for any more mistletoe – to detect raw Symbologic energy. For anyone poised to stop him would have to be a powerful enough bunch.
And there they were, the lot of them. Puffy squinted, looking down from the highest tower of the shoppe. It looked to be... to be....
A man with dragons on his back. A large Morphos cyborg. A petite girl with pointy ears in blue. And an even smaller girl with gadgets on her back.
PUFFY: IT'S THOSE ACCURSED HEROES AGAIN!!!! Santa, I've dealt with this bunch, bunches of times!
SANTA: Lemme see! Oh, wait – yes, I've sold a thing or two to these guys in another existence. Well then, let's send them to ANOTHER existence! I know why they're here – let's make them gone.
PUFFY: Less talk, more walk – sir. The catapults?
SANTA: Good thinking. Elves, load up the flingers!
PUFFY: Those names, though!
The Elven mutants loaded the mechanisms with what looked to be – coal? Except this coal had a whitish-blue glow about it – no doubt some warped form of Morphose war tech in the guise of Christmas y-goodness. Santa was about to leave some explosive coal in their stockings!
PUFFY: Ready! Aim! Aim! … aim!
SANTA: GET ON WITH IT, WOMAN!
PUFFY: FIRE!!!!
Six flaming coals soared through the skies, arching down towards our foursome of heroes. Bacchus was the first to spot the danger, and the group went into dodge as the projectiles splintered around them. The explosions rocked their world, but they were safe for now – it was no surprise that Santa would employ such a a payload to meet his ends. Beneath his facade of Holiday cheer was the markings of a dictator.
BACCHUS: Group, stand behind me. I'm employing my force-fields now.
PRECIS: Oh, look – reinforcements!
BACCHUS: I sent for them, of course. The Morphos Defense Force. Precis, flank me and launch some missiles of your own!
SANTA: What are they saying? What does the Smell-o-matic read?
PUFFY: I can't hear 'em, sir – even with IT.
SANTA: I'm sending out the Elves, they're about to breach the door. And Puffy?
PUFFY: What it is?
SANTA: I'm docking your pay!
PUFFY: What the ***k, Kringle!?
SANTA: Want that to change? Don't fail me again.
PUFFY: How dare you, after all I've done--- HEADS UP!!!!
Santa and Puffy jumped down just in time, just as a small cruise missile blasted their uppermost tower apart. Now, it was the awesome foursome’s turn to clean house!
**********
As the Nedian Defense Force kept extraneous Elves at bay – damn, they sure could jump from impressive heights out of the windows of Santa's Shoppe – Bacchus, Ashton and the group barged through the main gates. At this point, it was too late for Santa to subvert the Nedian-Morphos – seems the Cyborg let them in on his plans. So much for subterfuge.
SANTA: No matter – as long as I take care of these guys now, I'll just re-set and re-enter the Eternal Sphere! I cannot be denied!
PRECIS: You wanna bet, ya wannabe?
SANTA: Who? How DARE you!!!!
Santa lifted one of his hands and began to form a fireball. He flung it right at Precis, and was it FAST. She couldn't move in time! But Ashton had it covered as Weepy deflected the shot with his Dragon-Ice. Again, Santa lifted his other arm and readied an Icy Spell, and this time – you've guessed it – Creepy deflected that with his Dragon-fire! Ashton then went straight up to Kringle and held him, swords a-pointing.
PRECIS: Ashton....
ASHTON: Guys, I've got Santa! Bacchus, tear down those catapults!
PUFFY: Not if I can help it!!!!
RENA: YOU!!!!
PUFFY: I've always intended for you guys to loose one of my contests. I've always wanted revenge. But you've always come out on top.
PRECIS: Well, we're just THAT good. We're not chosen to save the Universe for no reason, ya know?
PUFFY: But now I've realized, I was WRONG. This isn't the good fight, not here, not now.
SANTA: Puffy, what are you doing! YOU CAN TURN THE TIDE!!!!
PUFFY: You're right, Old Man. And you've used me for long enough. So you know what? I'm kicking you out!
SANTA: Hah! Out of the Eternal Sphere? I'll just reset the system, start anew – you know the deal!
PUFFY: No, Santa. I'm sending you... to ETERNITY SPACE.
SANTA: What? But how?
With that, Puffy gave the main control panel a large BANG. Sumbological ability is common in this Universe, sure. But a 4D being who knows one is a commodity. Puffy and Santa were just that – and so she finished what Ivlish started. Magic and technology working in tandem produces interesting results. A bright flash of light, a man screaming at the top of his lungs, all Elves and Nedians stopped in their tracks. And with that, Santa was trapped in Eternity Space for good.
EPILOGUE
Finally – FINALLY – everyone could celebrate Christmas. A large cake sat in the middle of the now-repaired laboratory, and Bacchus was feeling better than usual. Rena and Precis worked together just a bit more than usual, and as such he was back in spades!
RENA: I'm glad that's all over! Let's dig in, people!
PUFFY: Yes, let's!
PRECIS: I'm glad you decided to to the right thing for once, Puffy.
PUFFY: Well, you know – I just wanted to spread holiday cheer. I never should have been involved with that shady merchant in the first place. He brainwashed me, in spite of my disdain towards him.
Albel trapped in Eternity Space, they open a chat to mock him as they celebrate Christmas.
IVLISH: And I'm glad, too – we've averted disaster, even if it would have been gradual!
BACCHUS: How it it Ivlish that you can be around Puffy anyway – a 4D being?
Just then, a few Elves came out and offered the group some Mistletoe. Indeed, it seems that miracles are sometimes possible. After their party was done, they would say their goodbyes. For now, the takeaway lesson is that there is potentially good in everyone – only, some people have a much, much harder lesson to learn than other.
Meanwhile, in Eternity Space....
ALBEL: Get that damn bears outta my face, old man!
SANTA: Young fool, you're on my naughty list FOREVER.
ALBEL: I'll show you the meaning of forever... OLD fool. I'll cut you into ribbons.
The duo fought and fought, with no end in sight. They would learn someday to get along – perhaps Ivlish would summon Albel again. Someday, in the future. The FAR future.
FIN