((Okay. Turbo Dump from the Discord.))
Pichu:
Dexter sat back on one of the benches within the garden space... it was actually nice to sit back and... y'know, relax every now and then. It was a very nice reprieve from all the like... agency stuff he'd had to do, what with all the prep and training he'd have to do first (what was the point of all that? He perfectly well knew what he was doing, he saved people on a daily basis back where he's from!)... But facilities like this were... appreciated by him.
He considered putting on his headphones to listen to some music, but he kind of preferred the natural sounds of the space right now... In hindsight, it had been a hectic couple of days-- even for his standards. And he thought what he went through when he first activated the Pinnacle Chip was one hell of a thing to go through! ... Maybe the professor would have some advice on this? ... Yeah, yeah keeping stuff under wraps and all that but it didn't seem that unreasonable to consult one of the only people who'd been helping him this whole time, before this point.
Ono:
It was at that moment that a large, heavy force shattered the silence. A sizable wagon, not present even a second ago, forced itself into Dexter’s personal space in the blink of an eye. The bench he sat on was crushed as he was thrown downwards into the sand. A face full of wood was all he initially saw from under the vehicle, but a turn of his head revealed an unpleasant sight: A front row seat to the smelly backside of a donkey. Said animal had drooping ears and a sad disposition. “Otis” was the name tacked onto his collar.
The side of cloth top was rolled upward, and the side wall fell down. A woman with platinum blonde hair and a petite stature trapezed her way out. Taking a moment to stretch, she let out a sigh as she put her hands on her hips and opened her crimson eyes. “Time to sell—"
The merchant paused. “Wait. This isn’t the market.” Her head swiveled, and a grin of razor sharp teeth came into view. Her brows furrowed as she approached the donkey, completely unaware of Dexter’s presence. She leaned down as she addressed the burro in question. “I thought I said we were going to the market today, Otis! This isn’t the market!”
The neddy merely snorted.
Pichu:
He took in a deep breath... and exhaled... letting the atmosphere of the garden--
Dexter suddenly found himself thrown onto his ass. It took him a moment to reorient himself, and also question how the hell an entire wagon got into this garden that's probably not allowed-- oh. Dexter made a grimace as he saw the... animal's butt. He stood up, wiping the dirt off his jeans, now kind of curious about what all... this was about-- oh, well, when not faced with the back end, he did think the mule was cute (if sad? This poor thing isn't being pushed too hard, is it?).
He observed with interest as the woman revealed herself, hand on his chin... oh! Well, other than those sharp teeth catching his interest, he quickly caught on this must be some... person running a stall? ... That only added questions, actually. Dexter leaned over in curiosity a tad. "... Yeah, this is really far from the market alright... is he friendly with people?" he asked, about the mule. He wished he had like an apple on him or something. "... And what are you selling, anyway?" if she came out all this way he may as well humor her a little... Shit, wait. Did he have money? Back home he did but here was a... different currency. He chewed his cheek-- maybe he could barter? But in that case what did he have that he could offer?
Ono:
The woman froze. She turned her head to Dexter, then back to Otis, then back to Dexter. She straightened herself upright, holding up a finger. “One moment.” Spinning away, she rapidly shook her head, smacking her cheeks to knock away any remaining sleepiness. She had just woken up, after all. Facing the superhero again, she took in his appearance.
"Unimpressive" was the initial vibe she received. He appeared relatively normal when compared to some of the other patrons she had had. The fact that he looked like he had been run over by train for some reason did not help with that impression. Still, everyone was a potential customer, and she did not discriminate.
Throwing on her best face, her teeth continued their showing. “Otis tends to eat flesh, living or dead. If that sounds like a good time, by all means pet him,” she stated as if that were a normal answer. The stranger took to a bow. “But where are my manners? My name is Isa Lingworth. I am the proprietor of Isa’s Oddities, otherwise known as the wagon you see behind me.”
Again she smoothed out the curve in her back, looking up at him and cocking her head. “I sell just about anything you can imagine. Maybe even things from your old world. Maybe.”
Otis merely stared at Dexter. His eyes blinked out of sync periodically. Tongue hanging out, he licked at the sand as if it were oats.
Pichu:
Dexter sat back on one of the benches within the garden space... it was actually nice to sit back and... y'know, relax every now and then. It was a very nice reprieve from all the like... agency stuff he'd had to do, what with all the prep and training he'd have to do first (what was the point of all that? He perfectly well knew what he was doing, he saved people on a daily basis back where he's from!)... But facilities like this were... appreciated by him.
He considered putting on his headphones to listen to some music, but he kind of preferred the natural sounds of the space right now... In hindsight, it had been a hectic couple of days-- even for his standards. And he thought what he went through when he first activated the Pinnacle Chip was one hell of a thing to go through! ... Maybe the professor would have some advice on this? ... Yeah, yeah keeping stuff under wraps and all that but it didn't seem that unreasonable to consult one of the only people who'd been helping him this whole time, before this point.
***
Ono:
It was at that moment that a large, heavy force shattered the silence. A sizable wagon, not present even a second ago, forced itself into Dexter’s personal space in the blink of an eye. The bench he sat on was crushed as he was thrown downwards into the sand. A face full of wood was all he initially saw from under the vehicle, but a turn of his head revealed an unpleasant sight: A front row seat to the smelly backside of a donkey. Said animal had drooping ears and a sad disposition. “Otis” was the name tacked onto his collar.
The side of cloth top was rolled upward, and the side wall fell down. A woman with platinum blonde hair and a petite stature trapezed her way out. Taking a moment to stretch, she let out a sigh as she put her hands on her hips and opened her crimson eyes. “Time to sell—"
The merchant paused. “Wait. This isn’t the market.” Her head swiveled, and a grin of razor sharp teeth came into view. Her brows furrowed as she approached the donkey, completely unaware of Dexter’s presence. She leaned down as she addressed the burro in question. “I thought I said we were going to the market today, Otis! This isn’t the market!”
The neddy merely snorted.
***
Pichu:
He took in a deep breath... and exhaled... letting the atmosphere of the garden--
Dexter suddenly found himself thrown onto his ass. It took him a moment to reorient himself, and also question how the hell an entire wagon got into this garden that's probably not allowed-- oh. Dexter made a grimace as he saw the... animal's butt. He stood up, wiping the dirt off his jeans, now kind of curious about what all... this was about-- oh, well, when not faced with the back end, he did think the mule was cute (if sad? This poor thing isn't being pushed too hard, is it?).
He observed with interest as the woman revealed herself, hand on his chin... oh! Well, other than those sharp teeth catching his interest, he quickly caught on this must be some... person running a stall? ... That only added questions, actually. Dexter leaned over in curiosity a tad. "... Yeah, this is really far from the market alright... is he friendly with people?" he asked, about the mule. He wished he had like an apple on him or something. "... And what are you selling, anyway?" if she came out all this way he may as well humor her a little... Shit, wait. Did he have money? Back home he did but here was a... different currency. He chewed his cheek-- maybe he could barter? But in that case what did he have that he could offer?
***
Ono:
The woman froze. She turned her head to Dexter, then back to Otis, then back to Dexter. She straightened herself upright, holding up a finger. “One moment.” Spinning away, she rapidly shook her head, smacking her cheeks to knock away any remaining sleepiness. She had just woken up, after all. Facing the superhero again, she took in his appearance.
"Unimpressive" was the initial vibe she received. He appeared relatively normal when compared to some of the other patrons she had had. The fact that he looked like he had been run over by train for some reason did not help with that impression. Still, everyone was a potential customer, and she did not discriminate.
Throwing on her best face, her teeth continued their showing. “Otis tends to eat flesh, living or dead. If that sounds like a good time, by all means pet him,” she stated as if that were a normal answer. The stranger took to a bow. “But where are my manners? My name is Isa Lingworth. I am the proprietor of Isa’s Oddities, otherwise known as the wagon you see behind me.”
Again she smoothed out the curve in her back, looking up at him and cocking her head. “I sell just about anything you can imagine. Maybe even things from your old world. Maybe.”
Otis merely stared at Dexter. His eyes blinked out of sync periodically. Tongue hanging out, he licked at the sand as if it were oats.
... So would that mean Otis would bite him? Dexter found that was unclear. ... Well... it's fine, he figured. Dexter could totally take a Flesh Eating Donkey's bite. He carefully put his hand out so the mule could smell him, but not be spooked by a sudden pet. Honestly, he found the guy to be super cute.
Dexter also titled his head-- ever curious about the wares she had to offer... bizarre entrance aside. Even from his world? "I mean, if you were there-- you'd probably be... a little surprised by all the tech," and the people would probably be taken aback by the cart. Would there be city regulations about that?
"I don't have my wallet yet, and I don't know how currency exchange works-- I got here pretty recently," Dexter said honestly, "but", depending on what you show me-- that might catch my interest-- I'd be happy to barter. And that includes favors. Deal?" Very risky to do in a relatively unknown place... but his own interest overtook him, and he was confident that he could come to an agreement if it was something he really wanted.
Dexter also titled his head-- ever curious about the wares she had to offer... bizarre entrance aside. Even from his world? "I mean, if you were there-- you'd probably be... a little surprised by all the tech," and the people would probably be taken aback by the cart. Would there be city regulations about that?
"I don't have my wallet yet, and I don't know how currency exchange works-- I got here pretty recently," Dexter said honestly, "but", depending on what you show me-- that might catch my interest-- I'd be happy to barter. And that includes favors. Deal?" Very risky to do in a relatively unknown place... but his own interest overtook him, and he was confident that he could come to an agreement if it was something he really wanted.
Otis stared at Dexter at first, his sandy breakfast interrupted. Slowly, he leaned into the petting, long tongue flopping back and forth with the timing of each stroke. Isa, for her part, looked briefly befuddled. Normally, the little squirt gave anyone who dared to even look at him wrong a brutal kick or a mouthful of teeth. This was unprecedented and her raised eyebrows showed it, though her smile remained large and sharp.
“Perhaps this man has a way with otherworldly abominations beyond imagination,” the merchant pondered. That would be an interesting find in this backwater dimension, in her opinion. The more realistic answer was that Otis was just in a good mood and was being a picky little cosmic turd with the people he liked. Isa included.
Her befuddlement was quickly replaced by an actual frown at Dexter’s curious offer. She pondered for a second more before moving to the back of her cart, leaving Dexter to pet the donkey. “Listen, bucko. Never just offer deals like that to a person you just met. Words can have power to some people, and offering a favor is like offering your soul in some cases.” As she began organizing and moving around merchandise, she continued her little speech. “The only reason I’m really telling you that is because you’ve somehow managed to make Otis like you by just doing that head-fondling thing that your people like doing to animals and children. That’s impressive, given his track record.”
Poking her head around the corner, her Cheshire-esk grin had returned. “That said, I’ll take that deal when you’re ready.”
Upon finishing giving the false burro affection, a trove of various goods awaited Dexter at the back of the cart. Vintage comic books, high-end computer components, science and tech magazines, robotics kits, and other things of similar nature were found, each with brands he could recognize. A greater variety of objects were also present, including pranking gear like whoopee cushions, familiar junk food and exotic treats, and quirky movies that all had some form of a cult following.
Of the items of present, the most curious was a black three-ring binder, partially covered by cloth. It had “NOT FOR SALE: HIGHLY DANGEROUS” painted on the front of it, signifying it may or may not have been put out by accident. Inside was a single vacuum-sealed packet containing an unmarked microchip. Above the chip, a curious code was displayed on the plastic: "@[=g3,8d]\&fbb=-q]/hk%fg".
“I have things that aren’t of your world, if you want,” Isa offered should nothing catch the superhero’s fancy.
“Perhaps this man has a way with otherworldly abominations beyond imagination,” the merchant pondered. That would be an interesting find in this backwater dimension, in her opinion. The more realistic answer was that Otis was just in a good mood and was being a picky little cosmic turd with the people he liked. Isa included.
Her befuddlement was quickly replaced by an actual frown at Dexter’s curious offer. She pondered for a second more before moving to the back of her cart, leaving Dexter to pet the donkey. “Listen, bucko. Never just offer deals like that to a person you just met. Words can have power to some people, and offering a favor is like offering your soul in some cases.” As she began organizing and moving around merchandise, she continued her little speech. “The only reason I’m really telling you that is because you’ve somehow managed to make Otis like you by just doing that head-fondling thing that your people like doing to animals and children. That’s impressive, given his track record.”
Poking her head around the corner, her Cheshire-esk grin had returned. “That said, I’ll take that deal when you’re ready.”
Upon finishing giving the false burro affection, a trove of various goods awaited Dexter at the back of the cart. Vintage comic books, high-end computer components, science and tech magazines, robotics kits, and other things of similar nature were found, each with brands he could recognize. A greater variety of objects were also present, including pranking gear like whoopee cushions, familiar junk food and exotic treats, and quirky movies that all had some form of a cult following.
Of the items of present, the most curious was a black three-ring binder, partially covered by cloth. It had “NOT FOR SALE: HIGHLY DANGEROUS” painted on the front of it, signifying it may or may not have been put out by accident. Inside was a single vacuum-sealed packet containing an unmarked microchip. Above the chip, a curious code was displayed on the plastic: "@[=g3,8d]\&fbb=-q]/hk%fg".
“I have things that aren’t of your world, if you want,” Isa offered should nothing catch the superhero’s fancy.
((Ignore this. I meant to edit and hit reply instead like a dofus.))
((Ignore this, too. I meant to edit the above post, but hit reply instead of edit. Did I mention I haven't used this site in months?))
Dexter grinned, and seemed delighted that the animal was receptive! Dexter found the guy completely and utterly adorable-- so focused on the mule that he forgot who was here. That saleswoman who literally barged into what should be a peaceful Zen Garden-- he turned his head to face her, but did not forget his sacred duty of Petting the Mule.
He paused to consider what she said. "... Yeah... you have a good point...," he said, pensive. He was lectured by his mom for the same thing-- she was an extremely meticulous woman, for as quirky as she could be. You'd think by now he'd have *Read the fine print!' circling around in his head by now, but in this case, his eagerness got the best of him (again). "... In that case... a fair deal's probably better, yeah?" Unfortunately, that brought him back to what he could possibly offer... "Oh, uh... maybe he was just in the mood for pats? ... So does he usually bite people?" Eh. He's had worse (unless the mule could bite, like, really super hard. Owchie).
Eventually, Dexter had to inevitably stop giving pets (sorry, buddy)... but, holy shit. It was like a nerd's heaven here-- he never liked to go to comic books too publicly, in fear it'd make him seem like way too much of a dork to his peers... but this was amazing! If only Todd was here! (... Maybe not, given how he arrived here. Would he be allowed to bring Theodore here, if he like, was really convincing about it?). He glanced at the comics (you couldn't even find half of these on the back ends of the web, and he even double checked with his new found Internet Thinking, what gives?!), great computer parts, interesting magazines (some of which were issues he missed due to... general business), kits... he knew all of this stuff. Back home it was never a case of 'could never afford it'-- so much as even his kid-of-CEO-with-connections friend had so much difficulty spotting this stuff. Although, he also delighted in what else was there. He didn't know if he could make off with one of the comic books (sad), but maybe he could try and broker for that junk food for... later...
Hold on. Dexter took off his glasses for emphasis, squinted, and then immediately put them back on when he realized how dumb that was. Obviously, a thing labeled 'not for sale' made him wonder what that was. (... Wasn't there something... similar he saw once, kind of like that? He couldn't quite recall and it was driving him crazy now).
"So what's that?" he asked, pointing to it.
He paused to consider what she said. "... Yeah... you have a good point...," he said, pensive. He was lectured by his mom for the same thing-- she was an extremely meticulous woman, for as quirky as she could be. You'd think by now he'd have *Read the fine print!' circling around in his head by now, but in this case, his eagerness got the best of him (again). "... In that case... a fair deal's probably better, yeah?" Unfortunately, that brought him back to what he could possibly offer... "Oh, uh... maybe he was just in the mood for pats? ... So does he usually bite people?" Eh. He's had worse (unless the mule could bite, like, really super hard. Owchie).
Eventually, Dexter had to inevitably stop giving pets (sorry, buddy)... but, holy shit. It was like a nerd's heaven here-- he never liked to go to comic books too publicly, in fear it'd make him seem like way too much of a dork to his peers... but this was amazing! If only Todd was here! (... Maybe not, given how he arrived here. Would he be allowed to bring Theodore here, if he like, was really convincing about it?). He glanced at the comics (you couldn't even find half of these on the back ends of the web, and he even double checked with his new found Internet Thinking, what gives?!), great computer parts, interesting magazines (some of which were issues he missed due to... general business), kits... he knew all of this stuff. Back home it was never a case of 'could never afford it'-- so much as even his kid-of-CEO-with-connections friend had so much difficulty spotting this stuff. Although, he also delighted in what else was there. He didn't know if he could make off with one of the comic books (sad), but maybe he could try and broker for that junk food for... later...
Hold on. Dexter took off his glasses for emphasis, squinted, and then immediately put them back on when he realized how dumb that was. Obviously, a thing labeled 'not for sale' made him wonder what that was. (... Wasn't there something... similar he saw once, kind of like that? He couldn't quite recall and it was driving him crazy now).
"So what's that?" he asked, pointing to it.
Otis somehow managed to appear even more depressed after Dexter tore his loving hand away. He did absolutely nothing about it but mope and eat more sand, however. That, and belch from eating the sand.
Isa’s sharp gaze followed Dexter’s pointer finger. She blinked. “Huh. What is that . . . ?” she murmured. Reaching over the other goods, she brushed aside the cloth and picked up the small binder. Studying it for a moment, her eyes literally glowed with recognition. “Ah. This thing.”
Holding it out to show Dexter, she explained it. “This little object is something I found in almost the exact state you see it in. I’d been planning to have it examined today, actually. Hence, the paint I put on here in the meantime. Ruins a bit of the value, but it’s better than causing an apocalypse or something inconvenient like that.”
A pause. “Now that I think of it,” she pondered with a cock of her head. “I recovered this from a building in a ruined world. The place was crawling with Shades. This little binder was being held in a death grip by one of them. It was an angry little man, I think. Got more and more violent each time I struck it. Kept calling out for some freak whilst using a strange accent. Irish? No, not Irish, it was Scottish.” She hummed as she glanced at the Pinnacle Chip inside its container, before inevitably shrugging as she put her large eyes back on the superhero. “Either way, this is a unique find. I normally wouldn’t barter with this since I have not determined how safe it is—A dead customer is rarely a good customer—but, since you are an Agent, I’d be willing to make an exception.”
Isa’s smile could cut a hole in the Sun as she unknowingly cranked the cute charm up to an almost jarring degree. She eased to flat binder into the man’s hands for him to look at it. “It won’t be easy to barter for it, though! I had to work for that thing.”
Isa’s sharp gaze followed Dexter’s pointer finger. She blinked. “Huh. What is that . . . ?” she murmured. Reaching over the other goods, she brushed aside the cloth and picked up the small binder. Studying it for a moment, her eyes literally glowed with recognition. “Ah. This thing.”
Holding it out to show Dexter, she explained it. “This little object is something I found in almost the exact state you see it in. I’d been planning to have it examined today, actually. Hence, the paint I put on here in the meantime. Ruins a bit of the value, but it’s better than causing an apocalypse or something inconvenient like that.”
A pause. “Now that I think of it,” she pondered with a cock of her head. “I recovered this from a building in a ruined world. The place was crawling with Shades. This little binder was being held in a death grip by one of them. It was an angry little man, I think. Got more and more violent each time I struck it. Kept calling out for some freak whilst using a strange accent. Irish? No, not Irish, it was Scottish.” She hummed as she glanced at the Pinnacle Chip inside its container, before inevitably shrugging as she put her large eyes back on the superhero. “Either way, this is a unique find. I normally wouldn’t barter with this since I have not determined how safe it is—A dead customer is rarely a good customer—but, since you are an Agent, I’d be willing to make an exception.”
Isa’s smile could cut a hole in the Sun as she unknowingly cranked the cute charm up to an almost jarring degree. She eased to flat binder into the man’s hands for him to look at it. “It won’t be easy to barter for it, though! I had to work for that thing.”
Dexter's curious eyes followed the binder as it came to his hands... "Huh... how dangerous is it...?"
His mind went to various possibilities-- an irresistible ring, nuclear radiation (you'd need a little more layers to the binder, then...), dangerous spells, the original version of Food Fight...
(In his universe, it came out in the 1990s, and was as terrible as you might expect a mascot brand based movie to be. And going from stuff he was researching... while going down a rabbit hole when he was trying to research Actual Agent Stuff... he was convinced that might be a universal constant... but... any gods help them all if they ever found that original version. Surely the multiverse couldn't handle such a powerful Artifact... at least Dexter thought that's how that'd exist).
He listened as she described where it was from... ah, right, the Shades... He knew of them, honestly, just had yet to encounter one of the... honestly, sad things? He felt bad for them, remnants of what they once were... wait, huh? A... small man who had an... Irish-- Scottish accent? He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. That. That was a funny coincidence. Given who he knew worked for Apex Industries... Especially since he was... calling for... a freak, and his superhero name was...
... It wasn't his dimension, exactly-- last time he visited, it was safe (and was going to stay that way). But... it was clearly an alternative version of it. Dexter swallowed, and put on a confident smile.
... He looked inside...
... Yeah, this was a Pinnacle Chip-- not exactly like the one he had embedded in his chest, but the elements were there, even that accidental string of letters that he'd typed into the computer when he was... messing around with it (was Todd still sore about it? ... Probably not by now, Dexter assumed).
His fingers tapped on the top of the binder. At this point, it wasn't even necessarily anything he wanted... this seemed like a good thing to keep in the safe storage of the agency in general... While he knew what it did to him... the effects it could have on another person were unpredictable.
He assumed money wouldn't be a factor here even if he did have access to his or the agency's-- this was literally priceless... and that neat smile Isa did didn't help matters, either...
"... It is tech," Dexter said, while thinking, "... my thought is... what if I got something from my world to trade with? ... You don't even have to give it to me right away-- like, I think the second safest place it could be is with you." And, hopefully, by the time he got what he could to barter with-- it wouldn't be too late, and it won't have gotten into someone else's hands it shouldn't be...
His mind went to various possibilities-- an irresistible ring, nuclear radiation (you'd need a little more layers to the binder, then...), dangerous spells, the original version of Food Fight...
(In his universe, it came out in the 1990s, and was as terrible as you might expect a mascot brand based movie to be. And going from stuff he was researching... while going down a rabbit hole when he was trying to research Actual Agent Stuff... he was convinced that might be a universal constant... but... any gods help them all if they ever found that original version. Surely the multiverse couldn't handle such a powerful Artifact... at least Dexter thought that's how that'd exist).
He listened as she described where it was from... ah, right, the Shades... He knew of them, honestly, just had yet to encounter one of the... honestly, sad things? He felt bad for them, remnants of what they once were... wait, huh? A... small man who had an... Irish-- Scottish accent? He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. That. That was a funny coincidence. Given who he knew worked for Apex Industries... Especially since he was... calling for... a freak, and his superhero name was...
... It wasn't his dimension, exactly-- last time he visited, it was safe (and was going to stay that way). But... it was clearly an alternative version of it. Dexter swallowed, and put on a confident smile.
... He looked inside...
... Yeah, this was a Pinnacle Chip-- not exactly like the one he had embedded in his chest, but the elements were there, even that accidental string of letters that he'd typed into the computer when he was... messing around with it (was Todd still sore about it? ... Probably not by now, Dexter assumed).
His fingers tapped on the top of the binder. At this point, it wasn't even necessarily anything he wanted... this seemed like a good thing to keep in the safe storage of the agency in general... While he knew what it did to him... the effects it could have on another person were unpredictable.
He assumed money wouldn't be a factor here even if he did have access to his or the agency's-- this was literally priceless... and that neat smile Isa did didn't help matters, either...
"... It is tech," Dexter said, while thinking, "... my thought is... what if I got something from my world to trade with? ... You don't even have to give it to me right away-- like, I think the second safest place it could be is with you." And, hopefully, by the time he got what he could to barter with-- it wouldn't be too late, and it won't have gotten into someone else's hands it shouldn't be...
Isa observed the parade of emotions that Dexter displayed with interest. Clearly, this microchip was valuable, if at least to the young man before her. The way his ebony skin seemed to drain of color as he looked at it was proof enough. Though, she did have to wonder what this little electrical doodad did for someone to have such a reaction. Maybe it actually was the key to a doomsday weapon?
The shorter woman made a show of pondering his question, folding her arms over her chest and tapping two fingers on the side of her head. “Hmmmmm . . . I don’t mind holding onto this object that screams value, as your cute little sweaty head has told me.” The merchant pointed a finger his way. “And yeah, it would be pretty safe with me. The last time someone tried to steal from me . . .”
The last time someone stole from her, she took the thief to the inside of her True Self: A gargantuan eldritch monstrosity with enough strength that it could rival a pantheon of gods and goddesses. It was so massive and powerful that it had been able to construct a sort of miniature dimension in the space between its organs. It was the perfect place to hold the hundreds of thousands of treasures she had accumulated over the years she had been alive, as it was hidden from prying eyes. Hell, the only direct entrance to it that someone could potentially access was her mouth. Since most creatures had some form of self-preservation, it was a nonissue unless someone truly fearless or freaky got involved.
That said, she had not taken that poor sap to the metaphorical vaults. Isa had practically thrown the thief into her True Self's stomach with all the various monsters, pools of acid, and explosive cysts, then promptly never thought about them again until now. They had probably been devoured or melted, but she could not tell Dexter that. That would . . . probably cause issues.
Unintentionally leaving her prior sentence hanging in the air, she brushed past it by plucking the binder out of Dexter’s hands and placing it back in the wagon. “Anyway, if you think you have something of greater value in your world, I’ll hold onto this just for you. Just greater value though. Not equal. I’m not running a charity.”
A brief pause and a moment of contemplation. “Actually, one second,” Isa murmured. Turning to face the wagon, she reached both hands into her open mouth. With a casual air, she pulled out a quill, inkwell, and a piece of paper without so much as gag from her esophagus. Placing the paper on a clear part of the wagon’s tail end, she spoke without looking at the superhero. “If I'm going to hold onto this, I'd prefer to have the name of the stud that I'm holding onto it for. Could I have your name?”
In the back of her mind, she wondered if Dexter remembered what she had told him earlier . . .
The shorter woman made a show of pondering his question, folding her arms over her chest and tapping two fingers on the side of her head. “Hmmmmm . . . I don’t mind holding onto this object that screams value, as your cute little sweaty head has told me.” The merchant pointed a finger his way. “And yeah, it would be pretty safe with me. The last time someone tried to steal from me . . .”
The last time someone stole from her, she took the thief to the inside of her True Self: A gargantuan eldritch monstrosity with enough strength that it could rival a pantheon of gods and goddesses. It was so massive and powerful that it had been able to construct a sort of miniature dimension in the space between its organs. It was the perfect place to hold the hundreds of thousands of treasures she had accumulated over the years she had been alive, as it was hidden from prying eyes. Hell, the only direct entrance to it that someone could potentially access was her mouth. Since most creatures had some form of self-preservation, it was a nonissue unless someone truly fearless or freaky got involved.
That said, she had not taken that poor sap to the metaphorical vaults. Isa had practically thrown the thief into her True Self's stomach with all the various monsters, pools of acid, and explosive cysts, then promptly never thought about them again until now. They had probably been devoured or melted, but she could not tell Dexter that. That would . . . probably cause issues.
Unintentionally leaving her prior sentence hanging in the air, she brushed past it by plucking the binder out of Dexter’s hands and placing it back in the wagon. “Anyway, if you think you have something of greater value in your world, I’ll hold onto this just for you. Just greater value though. Not equal. I’m not running a charity.”
A brief pause and a moment of contemplation. “Actually, one second,” Isa murmured. Turning to face the wagon, she reached both hands into her open mouth. With a casual air, she pulled out a quill, inkwell, and a piece of paper without so much as gag from her esophagus. Placing the paper on a clear part of the wagon’s tail end, she spoke without looking at the superhero. “If I'm going to hold onto this, I'd prefer to have the name of the stud that I'm holding onto it for. Could I have your name?”
In the back of her mind, she wondered if Dexter remembered what she had told him earlier . . .
He really was putty in her hands-- if all the cool stuff she had didn't already make that so, she must have caught on that this was... very important to him. He shifted uncomfortably. Unlike Professor Lobe-- who he knew well enough that he thought the guy wouldn't purposefully hurt him-- this was still a stranger. And strangers could be unpredictable (ugh, okay, fine Duncan, you were right in that aspect-- are you happy now? ... Probably not, they aren't a telepath across multiverses (OR ARE THEY??? (... No, they're not.)))
He hopped from foot to foot as he awaited her answer-- oh, good, she was willing to hold on it. ... Maybe if he were smarter he could have tried to... trick her for the greater good? ... Nah, that was too dirty, even by his standards ('cute little sweaty head'?).
... Dexter tilted his head, wondering what... happened when someone tried to steal from her... Maybe they just got chewed on by Otis. Then again, possibly screwing up a relationship with a potential ally-- and potential resource for the agents-- was in of itself a consequence for him.
His thoughts were interrupted when the binder was taken from him... He'd ask what happened to thieves later. Maybe they were on some like, blacklist or something. He nodded. "Yeah, that's fair. You're running a business." The demeanor reminded him of Mr. Gutierrez a little bit. Granted, he always looked so... serious and dour about everything (... then again, that always felt insensitive to think. The guy did lose his wife and all...).
Dexter leaned to the side-- trying to see just what it was that she did-- out of her mouth? ... He was actually more impressed that she didn't get any spit on it. "Is there like... a storage space in you...?" he lightly questioned.
... He considered it. Even if he hadn't remembered what Isa warned him of before (and he had), there was the advice his mother and others had given him about such dealings. Even Todd at some points scolded him for not reading the Terms and Conditions to the letter in Mage Installs.
... But, this was beyond him, at least Dexter considered it as such... What harm was there in putting his name down if it was for the greater good? ... Well, okay, a lot-- but Dexter's confidence convinced himself that it'd work out fine in the head. It was just a business deal. He'd fulfil his end of things and it'd go... fine. Great, even, Fantastic.
Convinced of his own confidence, Dexter took the pen and signed his name:
Dexter Douglas
"... I'll get the part to you as soon as I can," Dexter added-- he put out his hand to shake and close the deal.
He hopped from foot to foot as he awaited her answer-- oh, good, she was willing to hold on it. ... Maybe if he were smarter he could have tried to... trick her for the greater good? ... Nah, that was too dirty, even by his standards ('cute little sweaty head'?).
... Dexter tilted his head, wondering what... happened when someone tried to steal from her... Maybe they just got chewed on by Otis. Then again, possibly screwing up a relationship with a potential ally-- and potential resource for the agents-- was in of itself a consequence for him.
His thoughts were interrupted when the binder was taken from him... He'd ask what happened to thieves later. Maybe they were on some like, blacklist or something. He nodded. "Yeah, that's fair. You're running a business." The demeanor reminded him of Mr. Gutierrez a little bit. Granted, he always looked so... serious and dour about everything (... then again, that always felt insensitive to think. The guy did lose his wife and all...).
Dexter leaned to the side-- trying to see just what it was that she did-- out of her mouth? ... He was actually more impressed that she didn't get any spit on it. "Is there like... a storage space in you...?" he lightly questioned.
... He considered it. Even if he hadn't remembered what Isa warned him of before (and he had), there was the advice his mother and others had given him about such dealings. Even Todd at some points scolded him for not reading the Terms and Conditions to the letter in Mage Installs.
... But, this was beyond him, at least Dexter considered it as such... What harm was there in putting his name down if it was for the greater good? ... Well, okay, a lot-- but Dexter's confidence convinced himself that it'd work out fine in the head. It was just a business deal. He'd fulfil his end of things and it'd go... fine. Great, even, Fantastic.
Convinced of his own confidence, Dexter took the pen and signed his name:
Dexter Douglas
"... I'll get the part to you as soon as I can," Dexter added-- he put out his hand to shake and close the deal.
In the end, Dexter had handed over his name after all. Part of Isa felt a twinge of disappointment in her new customer, though she kept her expression unreadable. She had just explained that names hold power, yet he scribbled it down anyway. Either he was forgetful or just that confident. Judging by his radiant grin, it was clearly the latter.
Dispelling the thought, she took back the paper, quill, and inkwell. “I would appreciate you getting me that part, whatever that may be,” she stated casually. Without further ado, the merchant shoved each item into her maw, past her sharp, shark-like teeth. After a moment, she did the same with the binder containing the Pinnacle Chip, her mouth contorting rather disturbingly around the plastic edges before they disappeared entirely. All items returned to the Limited Void, a space she had created within her body, akin to how her True Self did it but with only a fraction of the power required. It was all she could afford, really.
“To answer your question, yes, I do have a storage space inside my body. I can put up to ten things in it. The only way someone can get them out is by reaching in and pulling them out.” She stated matter-of-factly, purposely omitting excess details. Flashing her wickedly pointed teeth at Dexter, she let his imagination run wild with the potential consequences of such an attempt. “Wouldn’t recommend it, though.”
CRASH!
The eldritch being jumped slightly at the sudden cacophony from within her wagon. Inside, a rope holding a hanging basket had loosened, and the basket had fallen. For the first time, Isa scowled, her easy smile replaced by a frown. The most peculiar thing was her eyes. For a split second, they changed—her beautiful eyes turned entirely blood-red, and the irises were replaced by a rotating ring of three hollow circles. As quick as a blink, her eyes returned to normal. “Oh, for the love of—!” she complained in anger. “I just fixed that thing!”
Sweeping the goods at the back of the wagon aside and without asking for aid, the merchant squatted low and then leapt in with a single bound, clearing the four-foot distance between the sandy ground and the vehicle's floor. Unfortunately, her feet landed precariously on the edge of the wooden floorboards. As she stood, her center of balance wavered, her curious eyes widening in alarm. She flailed her arms, muscles straining in a desperate attempt to regain her footing and fight off the pull of gravity.
Meanwhile, somewhere above, a mischievous fate seemed to conspire against her and Dexter. Seconds before Isa was about to jump, Otis, who was hitched to the front of the caravan, inhaled a bit too much sand. He stood still for a moment, ears flicking back and forth as he felt an unfamiliar tickle in his nose. Scrunching up his muzzle and flaring his nostrils wide, Otis took a sudden, exaggerated breath. His body tensed, his forelegs and upper body rearing into the air. Then, with a mighty sneeze, his hooves crashed back into the sand, and his rear legs bucked upwards...
THUNK!
...right into the cart. The jolt was enough to disrupt Isa's already precarious balance. “Crap!” she yelled as she began to fall backwards. Instinctively, she twisted her body mid-air, hoping to lessen the impact. Her arms reached out in vain, fingers grasping for anything to hold onto.
With a rough "oomph," she landed directly on Dexter, marking this as the second time something had fallen on him today. Both were sent sprawling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and confusion. Isa saw stars, momentarily stunned and unable to fully grasp how she had accidentally planted herself onto the unfortunate superhero…
Dispelling the thought, she took back the paper, quill, and inkwell. “I would appreciate you getting me that part, whatever that may be,” she stated casually. Without further ado, the merchant shoved each item into her maw, past her sharp, shark-like teeth. After a moment, she did the same with the binder containing the Pinnacle Chip, her mouth contorting rather disturbingly around the plastic edges before they disappeared entirely. All items returned to the Limited Void, a space she had created within her body, akin to how her True Self did it but with only a fraction of the power required. It was all she could afford, really.
“To answer your question, yes, I do have a storage space inside my body. I can put up to ten things in it. The only way someone can get them out is by reaching in and pulling them out.” She stated matter-of-factly, purposely omitting excess details. Flashing her wickedly pointed teeth at Dexter, she let his imagination run wild with the potential consequences of such an attempt. “Wouldn’t recommend it, though.”
CRASH!
The eldritch being jumped slightly at the sudden cacophony from within her wagon. Inside, a rope holding a hanging basket had loosened, and the basket had fallen. For the first time, Isa scowled, her easy smile replaced by a frown. The most peculiar thing was her eyes. For a split second, they changed—her beautiful eyes turned entirely blood-red, and the irises were replaced by a rotating ring of three hollow circles. As quick as a blink, her eyes returned to normal. “Oh, for the love of—!” she complained in anger. “I just fixed that thing!”
Sweeping the goods at the back of the wagon aside and without asking for aid, the merchant squatted low and then leapt in with a single bound, clearing the four-foot distance between the sandy ground and the vehicle's floor. Unfortunately, her feet landed precariously on the edge of the wooden floorboards. As she stood, her center of balance wavered, her curious eyes widening in alarm. She flailed her arms, muscles straining in a desperate attempt to regain her footing and fight off the pull of gravity.
Meanwhile, somewhere above, a mischievous fate seemed to conspire against her and Dexter. Seconds before Isa was about to jump, Otis, who was hitched to the front of the caravan, inhaled a bit too much sand. He stood still for a moment, ears flicking back and forth as he felt an unfamiliar tickle in his nose. Scrunching up his muzzle and flaring his nostrils wide, Otis took a sudden, exaggerated breath. His body tensed, his forelegs and upper body rearing into the air. Then, with a mighty sneeze, his hooves crashed back into the sand, and his rear legs bucked upwards...
THUNK!
...right into the cart. The jolt was enough to disrupt Isa's already precarious balance. “Crap!” she yelled as she began to fall backwards. Instinctively, she twisted her body mid-air, hoping to lessen the impact. Her arms reached out in vain, fingers grasping for anything to hold onto.
With a rough "oomph," she landed directly on Dexter, marking this as the second time something had fallen on him today. Both were sent sprawling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs and confusion. Isa saw stars, momentarily stunned and unable to fully grasp how she had accidentally planted herself onto the unfortunate superhero…
Well, if Dexter had any regrets, it was certainly too late now, and that's just how Dexter rolled. Fuck around and then find out later. Surprisingly, it hadn't really failed him yet, and there weren't any later consequences of his actions that Dexter could think of that came to mind (like, Todd probably wasn't mad that he messed with the Pinnacle Chip like that still, right? How could he be?)
"Of course-- that's our deal and all," Dexter reassured. It couldn't be... that hard, all things considered... ooh. Eugh. Dexter tastefully looked away right when her mouth started to distort-- it felt like it'd be rude to stare... he ended up peeking a little anyway out of the corner of his eye.
"... I mean... what kind of person would just reach into a lady's maw like that anyway? That'd be so ungentlemanly," he joked... but did seriously consider that she probably did have the ability to snap someone's arm off. Yeowch... So what kinda' anatomy did she have then? Huh.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a sudden noise, and he turned his attention to the source of it. "Oh, geez, that sucks," he said sympathetically-- only to notice... honestly he shouldn't be too surprised about a woman who can literally put items in her very being, "... I hate when stuff I set up just like, messes up. Hey do you need"-- before Dexter could even offer help, she was already off-- "Oh, hey, actually be careful, you might fall!" He quickly positioned himself, ready to catch her if she should fall.
That's when he heard the breath. Dexter's eyes widened, especially as he watched what Otis did... he desperately shook his head rapidly, as if the dumb animal could understand any of what he was trying to convey--
He winced as Otis hit the cart. Despite his attempt to try and help Isa-- his head was turned away from Isa as he was distracted by the donkey-- and she collided right into him. Usually, Dexter would be a little more sturdy than this, but, well... he wasn't in his Freakazoid form (and why would he be in a peaceful garden? ... Then again, if a random interdimensional merchant can come waltzing in suddenly...), and with everything that went on, he wasn't in the best stance to have Isa suddenly drop in on him.
They cartoonishly rolled about for a moment (the only thing missing was a silly sound effect), and when the dust cleared... Dexter propped himself up by his elbows as he looked up at Isa, who had landed on top of him. "Hey, are you okay? That was kind of a rough fall...," he said, oblivious to the potential embarrassment of the moment. "... Then again, I feel like it'd like... take more than a fall to uh... harm you...," he held back from asking if she'd ever be down to spar. Just because he wasn't entirely sure what she was capable of (and he didn't wanna put her on the spot).
Dexter glared at the donkey. "Come on, Otis, you didn't have to be so clumsy!" Dexter paused, and his expression softened. "... Awh, I could never be too mad at that face...," he immediately felt a little bad for yelling at the donkey, like he was the ass here instead of Otis. He looked at Isa, awaiting her answer.
"Of course-- that's our deal and all," Dexter reassured. It couldn't be... that hard, all things considered... ooh. Eugh. Dexter tastefully looked away right when her mouth started to distort-- it felt like it'd be rude to stare... he ended up peeking a little anyway out of the corner of his eye.
"... I mean... what kind of person would just reach into a lady's maw like that anyway? That'd be so ungentlemanly," he joked... but did seriously consider that she probably did have the ability to snap someone's arm off. Yeowch... So what kinda' anatomy did she have then? Huh.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a sudden noise, and he turned his attention to the source of it. "Oh, geez, that sucks," he said sympathetically-- only to notice... honestly he shouldn't be too surprised about a woman who can literally put items in her very being, "... I hate when stuff I set up just like, messes up. Hey do you need"-- before Dexter could even offer help, she was already off-- "Oh, hey, actually be careful, you might fall!" He quickly positioned himself, ready to catch her if she should fall.
That's when he heard the breath. Dexter's eyes widened, especially as he watched what Otis did... he desperately shook his head rapidly, as if the dumb animal could understand any of what he was trying to convey--
He winced as Otis hit the cart. Despite his attempt to try and help Isa-- his head was turned away from Isa as he was distracted by the donkey-- and she collided right into him. Usually, Dexter would be a little more sturdy than this, but, well... he wasn't in his Freakazoid form (and why would he be in a peaceful garden? ... Then again, if a random interdimensional merchant can come waltzing in suddenly...), and with everything that went on, he wasn't in the best stance to have Isa suddenly drop in on him.
They cartoonishly rolled about for a moment (the only thing missing was a silly sound effect), and when the dust cleared... Dexter propped himself up by his elbows as he looked up at Isa, who had landed on top of him. "Hey, are you okay? That was kind of a rough fall...," he said, oblivious to the potential embarrassment of the moment. "... Then again, I feel like it'd like... take more than a fall to uh... harm you...," he held back from asking if she'd ever be down to spar. Just because he wasn't entirely sure what she was capable of (and he didn't wanna put her on the spot).
Dexter glared at the donkey. "Come on, Otis, you didn't have to be so clumsy!" Dexter paused, and his expression softened. "... Awh, I could never be too mad at that face...," he immediately felt a little bad for yelling at the donkey, like he was the ass here instead of Otis. He looked at Isa, awaiting her answer.
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