Champions MUSH 2051 - Wednesday, October 3, 2001

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Vanadis

Seven feet tall, blond as spun sunlight, muscular, masculine, aglow with radiant health. His skin is flawless. His eyes pierce with bright blue like the sky. He has optimal proportions, and a voice like angels singing, yet with oceanic depth.

There seems to be an invisible breeze wafting His hair and stirring the faint beard He is beginning to grow. It makes His clothing wave about dramatically on the aura of His divine force. The particular affinity for rhodopsin of His nearly visible purple ultra-indigo shadow has little affect under normal light except to leave a transitory afterimage of the Seed of Beauty Incarnate on the eye, but in dim conditions makes Him darker and darker, melding with the black of night.

There's a cool, fresh, masculine smell in the area. Ultraviolet energies scour the Divine Body, cleansing the Big Guy's skin and sweat, leaving Him always ozone sweet as a summer morn.

Swashbuckling looks like these require something special to frame them. Tailored to His exquisite form is a suit of clothes of all the same exotic leather. Platinum-colored with a hint of deep royal crimson undertones, finely scaled, thin, yet obviously extremely durable, His pants, shirt, jacket and boots have an unearthly quality.

His belt is decorated with a line of gleaming teeth, and buckled with ferociously curled claws worked to interlink cleverly. A line of glittering Y-shaped vanadium rivets like a sash seals the jacket from the top of His left shoulder to below His right kidney.

The gang member leans against the wall of the Time Warp, watching the crowd go by. He spots the easily recognizable Vanadis (just follows the women's stares) and crushes out his cigarette on the ground. Then he begins to walk towards the blacklit one.

The gang member sidles up to Vanadis, "Got a light?"

Vanadis reaches absentmindedly into his pocket, and draws out a vanadium-plated lighter. He casually flicks it, producing a flame. Women, men, what matters it to a god. He doesn't even drag his eyes away from his own reflection.

The gang member lights his cigarette. "Hear you were looking for the Clashers."

Vanadis smiles warmly, putting the lighter away, and arranging his hair. Oh. It's one of those sorts of meetings. In case the police are watching, he makes it seem entirely casual. A shrug, a smile, a low-muttered 'sure'.

The gang member looks at the reflection, wondering if perhaps he could get a hairstyle like that... But then snaps back to reality. "They're all dead, y'know?"

Vanadis shrugs again, examining his fingernails, not looking at the punk. "Weren't me," he denies. "The dead don't really concern me. Still, a guy hears stuff..."

The gang member coughs once and spits on the ground, "Sure. All kinds of stuff. You still interested, go to the arcade over there." He gestures with his cigarette towards the Time Warp.

Vanadis looks at the arcade peripherally. Somehow, when his hand went into his pocket to put away the lighter, it came out with folding money, concealed in his massive hand. The hand drops down to the giant's side, between him and the smoker. It's right there, a hundred dollar bill, should the ganger be up for the reward.

The ganger bends over to tie his shoe, and in an instant the money is gone. "Nice doing business with you," he says.

Vanadis casually, indirectly, strolls over to the arcade, going through the herb shop, picking up his order, leaving via the back way over the protestations of the clerk, and entering the Time Warp from behind, obscuring himself with a globe of blacklight and igniting his force field. When you're a god doing business on behalf of the dead, it doesn't hurt to look the part.

Time Warp Arcade

As soon as the customer passes through the doors into Time Warp Arcade, they are immediately assaulted by a myriad of noises and smells. Arcade games of every type, size, and color crowds most of the room. The part that doesn't have an arcade game in its place has tables and chairs designed to imitate the interior of an alien spaceship. The walls of the building are circular and rise up to a point high above, in the shape of what appears to be a rocket. Ordering counters are at the back with the menu items listed behind the clerks who are kept busy with taking orders, and calling out numbers for food items that are ready to be picked up. With all the kids around, it's quite the popular place to be.

The arcade is buzzing on a Saturday afternoon. Kids of all age ranges play the latest Holo games with such original titles as 'Mortal Kombat 17' and 'Extreme Mario Brothers Ninja Road Rally' and 'Arctic Thunder'.

Sitting in a darkened corner is an odd figure. For whatever reason, no one ever gets near this creature. Even the waitstaff seems hesitant to bring over the huge pizza the jester ordered...

Mayhem

A tall, almost inhumanly thin man (?) who's face is hidden behind a jester's mask. His clothing consists of a tuxedo jacket that's far too big for him, a red plaid shirt, lime green pants, and mismatched shoes- one sneaker, one sandal.

Vanadis enters from the back way, taking the pizza from the waitstaff, and walking it over to Mayhem as they gasp and look about in surprise. What was that? It wasn't black, but they couldn't see through it, like a bend in their field of vision.... He approaches Mayhem, and sets down the food. "Your order, sir."

Mayhem suddenly sits up from his lazy position, "Oooh! Nummy! Like a slice?" (The pizza has everything on it. Lots and lots of everything.)

Vanadis examines Mayhem's reaction to being plunged into the globe of blind-spotting blacklight. He helps himself to a slice without hesitation. "Anchovies. You got anchovies. Good move," he pronounces, approvingly.

Mayhem seems unfazed by the blacklight. "They're fishies, you know. Nummy nummy fishies! Why did it get so darker?"

Vanadis crams the slice into his mouth, pushing it through his force-field by main might as a funnel develops when his mouth opens wide and his divine power compresses the bolus of cheesy saucy breadstuff and toppings into his gullet. One within his field of blacklight, the mouth closing around the foodstuff, the demigod chews thoughtfully, and swallows. *urp* "Some gods do that," he tells Mayhem.

Mayhem picks an anchovy off of the pizza and pretends to make it 'swim' through the air, "And what do other ghods do?"

Vanadis admits, waving off the belch with his free hand, *whew* that was a strong one. "Dunno. Haven't met all of 'em. I hear some answer questions, though. You ever hear of something like that? People just walk up to you and demand answers, complete strangers?" from within his blacklight globe.

Mayhem stops for a moment, as if in thought (his face is covered- it's hard to see facial inflection). He puts the anchovy back on the pizza, taking a moment or two to make sure it was -exactly- where it was taken from, "And thus the cycle of nature continues. Pizza gets anchovy, pizza loses anchovy, pizza gets anchovy back again. Do you have anchovy questions?"

Vanadis hehs at Mayhem. "Nice threads. Tailor from in town, or imported? Might call that suit a real Clasher. You an expert on Clashers?"

Mayhem bounces in his seat a bit, "We could get you some clothes like it, if you like..." He then goes still, "The Clashers are dead. Poor little Clashers. Betrayed."

Vanadis defers talk of clothes. "Betrayal. That's a innnnterestin' topic. Care to elaborate friend?"

Mayhem lies down on the bench-like chair he's on and looks at the ceiling "Clashers trusted the spider, and the spider betrayed them. Betrayed me." His melancholy mood quickly changes to rage as his sits bolt-upright, "HOW DARE SHE BETRAY ME! I'll do something drastic! I'll order another pizza, this time WITHOUT ANCHOVIES!" The nearby waitstaff cringes at the shouted order. He then leans in closer, "And then... Revenge. With anchovies."

Vanadis arches an eyebrow. "You sayin' the Silver Spider chick sold out the Clashers? The whack-mouthed little lighting-tossing fool in the leotard?"

Mayhem nods and brings a piece of pizza up to his mask, but has no way of getting it past the shell. He turns his head quizzically, "Hrm. Wonder how the heck I ate the last two?"

Vanadis says, "You opened your mouth?"

Mayhem nods, "That must have been it. Yes. Opened my mouth. Bad bad spider!"

Vanadis hurms. "Sounds like her, too. So... You want to know what kinda revenge would be sweetest?"

Vanadis says, "Sweet anchovy revenge ain't the answer."

Mayhem sounds pouty, "No anchovies?"

Vanadis says, "Ohhh, don't worry. There'll be plenty of anchovies. But you know what'd tick off mite-y mouth more than anything else, get her webs in a real tangle?"

Mayhem looks from you to the pizza and back again, "Sausage?"

Vanadis shakes his head, tersely. "Closer." There's a dramatically divine pause, then a conspiratorial rumbling in his voice. "Me."

Mayhem nods, "Ah... You'll... Uhm... What is it you do again? Make things darker?"

Vanadis says, "What I do is not important. To Silver Spider, I am the enemy, the villain, and she the 'hero'. She lives in a world of her own inside that dented little skull of hers. Hurting her directly only builds her up in that bizaro delusion she's locked herself into. And in that delusion, I am her Devil. You want to hurt the Spider, you get with me, and we'll whip up something to drag her little bendy butt down to the bottom. Knowing that I'm on top of her will be the worst thing she could imagine. And the best, too."

Mayhem pauses for a moment. "Two conditions. One, no one dies. And two, there must be anchovies."

Vanadis says, "You took the words right out of my mouth. So. Best to make the pun fit the crimishment. How'd loose-lips betray the Clashers?"

Mayhem lays back down on the bench, "Well doctor, it all started when I was a wee lad and the spider talked to me about someone we were hiding. She was the ooooooonly one I told cos I trusted her. Then someone found out... And someone else found out... And they sent people to kill the Clashers. Bad bad spider. Oh, and then there was the time I saw daddy kissing Santa clause.."

Vanadis strokes his jaw. "So, she blabbed? Well, there's the problem. Woman I swear has the wrong ratio of ears to mouths. And don't worry about Santa. Kissed him myself. With tongue. He's a great smoocher. Maybe it'd help if a few names weren't changed to protect the guilty. Someone? Someone? Someone? They? People? A sharp revenge has a keen edge."

Mayhem says, "So we don't get to talk about what he did to the reindeer? Oh well." He sits back up again, "Don't suppose it would hurt any now. The Clashers hid Phelamanga for a while. I don't know who Spider told, but somehow the word got back to Phil-o-mangus that the Clashers had loose lips, and he came over and sank their ships."

Vanadis says, "So. The best revenge... Hrm. I could catch whoever Phil was hiding out from, and show up the Spider that way. Force her to eat anchovy over her failure where I succeeded. Or I could catch Phil. Or both. What're they to me? So long as it's me turning 'em over to the handcuff patrol in front of trid-cameras while Spider eats her anchovy-paste-filled heart out."

Mayhem nods, "I still think the best revenge would be making her wear an anchovy costume and renaming her 'SilverAnchovy', but sure. Your way works, too."

Vanadis laughs. "We'll work that part in, too. So. Who was after Phil?"

Mayhem shrugs, "Dunno."

Vanadis sighs. "Then I guess we gotta settle for Phil. Think he'd oblige by turning himself in? Doesn't have to be for long. Just enough to rub Spider's nose in it."

Mayhem makes a sound reminiscent of a schoolgirl's giggle behind the mask, "Oh, I dunno, you'd have to ask him. He and I aren't on speaking terms anymore."

Vanadis shrugs. "I'd have to find him. And maybe have some leverage to use. You know anything like that? Where he is, what he goes in for? What he doesn't?"

Mayhem says, "I know he kills people who think of betraying him. He used to be such a nice boy, too. A little fanatical, but nice... Then he went craaaaaaay-zeeee!"

Vanadis sees this is not an uncommon trend. "Fanatical about what? Crazy over what? I'm not up on my Phil-fan-club reading."

Vanadis thinks . o O (That'd explain Quasimodo.)

Mayhem motions for a waitress to come over, but doesn't realize that he's still in the darkness. "Oh well, no dessert. No, wait, I NEED DESSERT!" He makes a loud whistling noise that stops some of the waitstaff in their tracks, as well as some of the gamers ("Aw man! That was my last guy, too!"). He calls out, "Hot fudge! Now! And some ice cream to put it on." The waitstaff hurries back to the kitchen to draw lots as to who gets to bring dessert to the madman. He continues, "Oh, he was all Zoo this and Zoo that and my people need to be freed... Way too serious. Then he went totally around the bend over it. Wouldn't even talk about anything else."

Vanadis says, "Zu, huh? Freeing the people of Zu?"

Vanadis strokes his chin. "I think I can broker a deal. It'll take some work." The god begins to withdraw from Mayhem, his blacklight concealing blacker plans hammered out in the forge of divinity.

Mayhem shrugs, "Either that or freeing people from the Colonial bay zoo. I don't know. After the first hour I must admit I stopped listening. 'I Love Lucy' was on, and I never miss an episode."

Vanadis completes his dire dealings in darkness, and departs.

Mayhem watches the ghodling leave. A trembling waitperson brings his hot fudge sundae over. He takes it and looks at it, "Hrm. Fudge. Ice Cream. Good job." The waitperson breaths a sigh of relief, but then Mayhem continues, "BUT WHO SAID I WANTED A DISH?!?" The waitperson shrieks in fear and runs away, while Mayhem stands and retrieves something from under his table, "Come back, it's time to play!"

[OOC] Vanadis nods. Do I get to see what Mayhem does to the place, or is it better I never know? ;)

[OOC] Ocean says, "You left. It's best that way. =)"