//------------------------------// // A Prologue, If You Can Call It That. // Story: Infinity's Edge (Beta) // by Caldoric //------------------------------// Time: Years(?) In the "future"... But not many(?)... Location: An undisclosed world, in a backwater corner of the Omniverse. In a tavern, situated snugly in the branches of the biggest Banyan tree you've ever seen, sat a figure. In fact, there were several figures in said tavern, each of various species and gender and color. But there was one who stuck out, ever so subtly, even to the untrained eye. One's attention just seemed ever-so-slightly drawn to the figure, like a microscopic black hole, or like one's tongue is always drawn back to the site of a missing tooth. He (for it indeed was a he,) was sitting with his back to the bar, nursing a simple cup of coffee. He did little more than bob his head to the music being played, which he knew was from another place, another time, and occasionally sip at the beverage in his hand. He still remembered the simpler days of his long and strange life, thanks to the music. He wore very light armor, which was slightly unusual given the peaceful nature of the local land at present, but nobody seemed interested very much. It took all kinds to make a universe, after all, and in the Omniverse, where anything could happen (and probably already had, in a way)? Said armor was nearly equal parts monochromatic and red-and-orange, if that makes any sense. To be honest, only he knew the exact proportions, having designed it himself, not that anyone ever seemed to care. (41.3% monochrome, 50% red-and-orange, and the rest was a metallic silvery color, slightly bordering on gunmetal or dark steel, to be precise.) He turned his head towards the door, and seconds later, it opened to admit three small figures. They seemed drawn to him, as young folk everywhere always seemed to be. He didn't mind too much, though. The figure liked children, for the most part. He was GOOD with kids. Always had plenty of stories to tell, he did, and was usually up for whatever off-the-wall game he was challenged or invited to. Most folks who knew him well, (and there were precious few of those to be had at the best of times,) said he was young at heart, yet seemed to have an old soul. He usually laughed if someone said the last to him, for reasons of his own. After all, his was probably older than most... And there they were, the three younglings. Now that he got a closer look, they seemed to be in their mid to late teens... He didn't seem to recognize them, but they recognized him for sure. One was a griffon... mostly. There were some draconic aspects to her appearance, and she had what was definitely a Unicorn horn sticking out of her forehead. The second was a bio-mechanical being, (similar to an Agori, Matoran, or Protector,) was definately male, with a blue mask, and red armor that covered the rest of his body. He dubbed that one "Takua." The third... appeared to be a hybrid of a Dalek, an Aperture Turret, a mech of some sort, and a Rahkshi. That was new to him, but he didn't seem phased. Much. They took up a few seats near him, and ordered a Root Beer Float, each. The strange figure chuckled and shook his head. Some things never changed, no matter what corner of the 'Verse you were in. He'd had run-ins with the various reincarnations of the once-legendary "CMC" down through the ages, and these three seemed like just the type. Perhaps something akin to girl scouts or boy scouts had finally cropped up in the Omniverse? Yes, there; they each wore badges, bearing the crest of the original legendary triad, he could see. Oh, not with his eyes, of course. Those were focused on some figures across the room. No, he had other ways of seeing. The figure smiled faintly. That was a long story of its own. He closed his eyes as he took a deeper draught of his chosen beverage, using the opportunity to "watch" the three newcomers in extended detail with his mind's eye. He observed them stealing frequent glances his way, and decided now would be the time to cut his impish side a little loose, if only for the moment. He opened his eyes once more, let his energies flare in just the right way, and lifted the mug to his mouth. But instead of drinking, he spoke, affecting a slight southern drawl, voice slightly muffled and distorted by the mug. "Y'know, kids, if'n it's a story ya want, ya could'a just asked." He then opened his eyes and smirked, looking at the trio. Their reaction was priceless. The mechanical one stiffened and gave a small "eep" sound, "Takua" merely froze in place, and the semi-griffon started so hard she fell off her seat. She was was helped back up by her friends to a hushed chorus of childish cursing, a mumbled "I meant to do that," and something about a bucket. The figure's eyes had gone a solid lime green, with a slit pupil in the left one, with six more slits orbiting a slightly larger, boxy-shaped oval pupil in the right. Draconic Vision Eightfold, at its finest. He discretely looked a bit closer at the griffon, who had regained the top of her barstool once more, and nodded mentally. Yes... He'd THOUGHT that one'd seemed familiar somehow. The way she held herself, which was proud, but not snobby. The pale pastel ruff of feathers at the back of her head, which was a smidge more noticeable now that they'd been disturbed when she fell over. She obviously had some of the genetics of some of his earliest friends here, though he'd been afraid to call them anything more than acquaintances back then. Ah, the old social stigmas of his homeworld, and the things they did to young folk. "H-how did you...?" The mechanical one's question tapered off. He definitely has their attention now. "Oh, not to worry," he replied, smiling kindly as he relaxed his eyes, and they returned to normal once again. "I get folks asking me for stories all the time. I'm always happy to oblige, though I usually ask for a reason as well. Have you one?" The triad looked at one another, and "Takua" spoke. "Y-yeah, sir. It's... for a school report. 'S due in a month or so." "A report, eh? Well, I've helped with a few of those in my time. I'm game. It's about time I did another retelling, from what I've gathered, my last one's gotten garbled in the history books. Again." The trio smiled at that. "Now, before I get started, I'd like to know what specific part, if any, you're looking for. Your names wouldn't go amiss, either." They looked at each other. Finally, the griffon spoke up. "My name's Cloudsnatcher. And these are my totally rockin' friends." She gestured to the mechanical menagerie, and continued. "This is A.L.E.X., they're from a relatively new species calling themselves 'Glitch.'" "Hello!" Said A.L.E.X., whose voice, while slightly tinny, gave no indication of gender, or even a synthesized nature. Given Cloudsnatcher's use of a gender-neutral pronoun, A.L.E.X. was probably either hermaphroditic, or asexual. Didn't matter to the coffee-drinker either way. He gave a polite nod, and said "hi." "And this," continued Cloudsnatcher, "is Zaka. He's descended from the Okotoan Spherus Magnans." "Greetings," said Zaka. "Salutations," returned the taller figure, and took a sip of coffee. "And you already know my name, so that's that, eh?" The kids giggled, and the stranger pressed on. "Alright then, if you're ready to begin, then let's move over to one a those booths over there," he said, gesturing near the door, "and while we're at it..." He turned his attention behind the bar. "Ey, Smoakey, old pal," he called, getting the Barkeep's attention, "I'm gonna move over by th' door with these young'uns. We'll probably be there a while, so... could we get some new drinks for the little ones, on me? And some food as well?" The barkeeper, who was in fact a large bipedal bear who always emitted faint whisps of sweet-smelling smoke, and was presently wiping out the inside of a large crystal mug, nodded. "Alrighty then. Let's move, kids." And so, they picked up what was left of their respective drinks, and migrated over to one of the available booths. It was near the door, and had a good view of the inside of the tavern, but wasn't next to a window. They sat down, the kids on one side, and the stranger on the other. He began preparing himself to tell his story, rearranging certain items in his possession, mentally laying out the path he was going to take them through, and then steeled himself for one final thing he knew he must do before he could properly start. Normally, the figure put limiters upon himself during day-to-day affairs, to keep from going mad with his own abilities (that HAD happened on more than one occasion, with spectacularly disastrous results.) He had, long ago, spread his consciousness across many places, many worlds, many focal points. But when it came to telling the many tales under his belt, he always gave it his all. Normally, the figure saw what went on through his own life "nowadays" in a sort of "third person" mode. He liked it that way. It reminded him of when TV used to be a thing, or reading books, or even video games. But at times like this... He pulled himself together, and felt his sense of self come to rest where it had originally been birthed. He felt himself sliding together, becoming more "whole," and closed his eyes... For the first time in a long while, I reopened my eyes, which were now their old nearly chocolate-brown color, and felt my form shift into something more casual, more familiar. More... original. The armor had vanished, and the tall figure that I once had been was now replaced by a strange-looking, seemingly fragile figure. It had been a while since I'd last used this form, and I actually had to readjust. As I did, I took in the three amazed faces before me, and began to speak. "Now, let's start where it all began for me. After all, as the song goes, it's a very good place to start. "It was a Monday, as to be expected. Nobody has ever really liked Mondays, as far as I know, but this one was the one that changed my whole life. Not to mention, I looked a whole lot different back then... Something a lot like this..." And so, I released myself to the rigors and waves of the story, and the weaving of the vast tapestry that was my history began anew...