A sharp reminder
I walked back into my room, exchanged customary greetings with my room-mates/ parole officers. "Hey guys, guess who's back in town? It's me, that's who."
Twilight took one look at me and covered her eyes with her hand. "I... I don't even know where to start with you. Where were you? In the forest? You can't run off like that, Xante."
I shrugged, twirling around and letting the light catch my new robe rom all angles. "I don't care for your tribbling morals, Twilight. Just look at my ensemble right here! This is the stuff that kings would wear back in the day."
Twilight seemed close to vomiting. "Alright, alright. Fine. But don't go anywhere again without my say-so, alright?" She sighed and sat down. "Since you're on parole, and I've given you a LOT of freedom, I would like you to at least ask before you go running off again."
I gave her an even look. "Sure, I'll ask for your approval. But you have not made any comment on my amazing clothes yet."
"It looks like clown vomit," Spike called from the next room. Twilight was about to reprimand him for it, but she had a look at my clothes again and then changed her mind.
I harumphed and flopped on the couch. "Hmph! Some people have no taste in clothes whatsoever."
There was general chuckles all around. After that, I got up and stretched, enjoying the clicking of bones. "Well, hermanos, I have to go downstairs. As I am supposed to be."
Twilight looked at me with mild suspicion. "Right. Any particular reason why?"
I smiled genially. "Twilight please. Would I be doing anything illegal in your house?"
We stared at each other one another before she let out a small, "no," then standing up. "Well, I have to meet up with Pinkie Pie in a bit. Just stay here and try not to get... too weird."
Once I was downstairs, I quickly sealed the door off. Then, I got to work. I pulled out numerous scrolls of paper, film, human skin and foil. Holotablets were pulled out and scouted. Various artifacts fell out of my Pocket as I searched for the device. Eventually I found it.
200 kilograms of pure cocaine. I had stumbled across a universe where literally everything was made of cocaine. So naturally, I was an enterprising businessman and was simply shifting stuff from one universe to another.
I found a random Earth universe and sent a simulacrum. Thus, I could truthfully say that I was not, technically, 'doing anything illegal in the basement.' Plus, it would trip up the tracking spell that Twilight had on me. I've been tracked many a time, I know how to dodge that kind of stuff. Through interrogations and loud proclamations, I met a local drug dealer, extracted information from him and then went to the local crime lord.
Marcus stared at the willowy wisp of a man who continued to smile disarmingly. He hadn't introduced himself, except for his sales pitch and a random remark about not having much time. "So you say you have 200 kilograms of product to sell me, yes?"
The man nodded. "200, yes. And my price is very reasonable." He spoke in a very high voice, like somebody had shoved a flute in his throat. Marcus couldn't help but be slightly weirded out with how relaxed the man was- he was surrounded by men armed with submachine guns, yet all he did was smile and continue to do a little dance.
Marcus shifted position, maintaining as much eyecontact as was possible through the thick sunglasses. "You are asking me for 20 million US, for a product we cannot see."
The flowery man's grin got even wider. The hot summer air grew a little bit colder. "My friend, do you believe in magic?" Before Marcus could answer, the man reached behind him and pulled out a large packet of cocaine. Ignoring the shouts, he tossed the bag over. "You can test it if you like."
Cautious, suspecting a trick, Marcus nodded at the man closest to him, who cut the bag open, took a look inside, then nodded. "High quality stuff."
Marcus appraised the man before him again. "How did you do that?" He wasn't superstitious, not some Wiccan who believed in magic. But the man had been searched thoroughly before, and all that had been in his pockets were candy wrappers and lint.
The man grinned and sauntered backwards. "The rest is outside." He walked outside, into the hot Miami street. Marcus got up and followed him.
Outside, a massive crate stood there, unmarked except for the tiny rainbow in one corner. Marcus stared at it. When the hell did that get there?
From behind him, the mysterious man spoke. "My payment, mister Marcus. And don't sell any of this to kids." The stranger sounded a lot more serious, and there was an undertone in his words that sent shivers down his spine. Marcus turned, to meet a hand coming on his forehead. Everything went white.
The money was worthless to me at this point; I could steal whatever reagents I liked. The money was simply a way of keeping score. That money was deposited in my vault, just in case I needed it.
Next came weapons. Several large caches had to be shipped from my personal pocket into the hands of some warlords somewhere. I didn't really care. I wanted as little incriminating evidence on me as possible. The meeting with Essence had shaken me up considerably. Smuggling stuff through the Void was a difficult, dangerous, rarely profitable job but I had to do it.
I had one code: don't hurt kids. Teenagers I'm okay with, and adults are fair game. Still, I wasn't going to do anything further evil here. I dialled up a familiar number on my phone.
After a couple of moments I got an answer. The sound of feeble-glorps being resynched was in the background as a rough voice replied. "Yeah, who's calling me at this hour. This is -urrp- Rick Sanchez, how'd you get this number. This is an- this is an unlisted number, kind of hard to get, you uh, you know? Not appreciated, not cool."
I reclined back, switching the universe portal to Middle Earth, and pulled out a beer from my Subspace pocket. "What's up Rick? You got any parties on soon?
"Nah, I'm kind of- I'm kind of busy with my idiot grandson. You know m-Morty, right? The little guys who are at the fucking council of Ricks? Well, I-I-I got one, Xante, I got one." In front of me, Middle Earth was showing me the Battle of Gondor, where all combatants were using baguettes instead of swords. It was a fucking riot. "So what're you doing with yourself, you crazy old -urrp- lich you? Still being a lazy piece of shit?"
I frowned, then smiled. "Nope, I'm enjoying a new summer home over here. It's great. It's this place called Equestria, there's all these horses and stuff. It's great." Sometimes, even I get caught. So if I liked that universe, I would feign reforming, and I would do it well. I would never do a criminal act in that universe. Other universes? Fair game.
The squelching sounds briefly stopped. "Equestria? Well, I kind of can't ever go there because, like, there's this tree, and it's mm-made from crystal, Xante. And, it's got these other crystals on it, they're, like, super magic crystals or some shit. And, if you grind them up, it's, like, it's like -urrp- it's so fucking intense, the high you get from them. Buuuut, I kind of can't touch them because they're all like 'we need to save the world and shit,' and that really puts me in a mood. Also, they all think I'm, like, an evil and corrupting influence, which is a whole crock of shit."
I chuckled. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. Local justice around here is kind of shitty. Vigilante, I'd call it. Anyway, just wanted to call. Also, I'm going to need to offload a whole bunch of stuff on your ass. You got space? I know you got space."
Rick groaned on the other end. "Oh, fuck. What kind of stuff? Dead bodies? Atomic weapons? Anthrax? Creepy voodoo shit?" He briefly paused. "I only ask because you're, like, an evil, smart lich overlord. I don't know what kind of shit you need to offload on my pad. If it's toxic, put it in the landfill or something. Don't- don't want that near my daughter, you know."
I sat upright, watching as the Witch-King was taken out by a baguette wielded by a woman. Eowyn, I think it was, or something similar. "I met a reality warper today, and I kind of need to get as much illegally smuggled stuff out of my pocket as possible."
There was a brief laugh on the other side. "W-wait, Xante, the fucking guy who conquered ten universes and is part of a family that conquers universes, is scared of a reality warper.That's, like, pot calling kettle black, except that's stupid. This whole conversation has me using metaphors. That's how dumb this is. Any dumber and this'll make me retarded or some shit."
I scowled. "Laugh it up Rick, can I dump it or not? And don't come here, it's cramped in this basement and I haven't really silenced this room."
He briefly paused, before letting out a sigh. "Sure, sure, come on over. Make my garage a mess. Dump your shit there." There was a click as he hung up. I shook myself and rubbed my hands in glee.
I got up, flicked the mirror a bit, and entered the co-ordinates. Rick's garage was a bit of an interesting place. I casually walked through the garage door, briefly blinking a bit as my eyes readjusted. Rick was working on something over on the bench, while a teenager looked at me oddly. "Hey, uh, Rick? Do you, uh, know this guy? He's kind of all... rainbows and stuff."
Rick glanced at me then did a double-take. "Fucking hell, Xante, did a clown vomit on you or something?"
I frowned and crossed my arms. "Yeah yeah, you're very original. Where can I put my stuff?"
He grunted. "Put it over there, with the rest of my crap."
I walked over, concentrated, and the rest of my smuggled goods came out of my pockets like spaghetti in certain universes. Morty seemed rather confused as to how I did this, but then seemed to shrug it off. "Okay, that- that wasn't the weirdest thing I've ever seen in my life or anything. Not at all."
I grinned. "Sounds like you have an interesting life, Morty. Anyway, gotta fly. Got a parole I've got to be getting back to." I was about to leave when he asked me a question I really didn't want to answer.
"Wait, parole? Are-are-are you a ciminal or something?"
I looked him directly in the eyes. "I'm a pretty big criminal, but currently in the place I', living I'm not. I just got out of prison, I'm lying low, and I had a rather unfortunate encounter with a ridiculously powerful being. I need piece of mind and your grandfather is looking after my stuff until I come back for it."
Morty seemed stuck on one point. "Wait, how big a criminal? Because- because if you're a, uh, criminal, then mmmaybe somebody should stop you or something. Becasuse I-I-III can't let you leave like this."
I chuckled. "Alright, I'll respect that." That said, I whacked him over the head and he fell unconscious. I quickly tipped him on his side and then looked at Morty. "Yeah, I kind of have to go back there. I'm kept on a pretty big tether. Fucking Void dwellers."
Rick nodded, taking a pull. "Fucking Void dwellers is right. You know something? I nearly got grabbed by a fucking Admin. Something about" he made threatening motions with his hands, "recklessly endangering people or some shit. I managed to set the record straight. Turns out they're after some crazy motherfucker. Some guy just, like, had a plan to conquer the multiverse."
We both laughed heartily at that. As Rick wound down he continued, "And, and this admin was only asking me because, get this, I apparently gave this fucker a dark matter compressor for several vials of energised protodermis. Can you believe that shit? I barely know the guy apart from that."
I frowned. "Well,m stay safe Rick." And with that, the hugely annoying slingshot effect took place and I was pulled back to my universe rather abruptly. It was a close thing, but my pocket was empty.
One last thing.
"Just because something is silly, and humerous, does not mean it cannot be evil." With that, I ran a hand through my hair and returned to my normal viewing, unsealing the door as I did so.
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So he is a void smuggler now?
Also the standard "OMG UPDATE!"
I like it.
I really need to watch a couple of that Rick and Morty cartoon! See what's grand about it, especially since it sounds like it's a "back to the Future" rip-off.
THIS HAS FINALLY UPDATED!
Now WAITING for more!
Oh well, now! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!UPDATE!! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE! UPDATE!
*wild arm waving*
WHOO.
Anyway, I've just moved Renovare into SoTM, so... for some reason this makes me laugh, that kind of coinkydink.
I thought this wouldn't update anymore... I was proven wrong, but now I have to re-read it since I barely remember what's going on,
Thanks for being honest.
Xante is a bad influence on drug lords and warlords alike. Selling them stuff like that so cheaply, you would think he would know not to destabilize their work ethics. Because if they don't buy, sell, and trade that stuff then they aren't promoting the global economy.
Huh, I thought this thing was dead and gone. UNDEAD FIC IS APPROPRIATE!
Sounds about right for Rick and Morty dialogue.
IT IS BACK FROM THE DEAD! catholicleague.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/th.jpeg
I LIKE WHAT YOU GOT. GOOD JOB.
Yes. My gawd yes.
but he said he was going to be a good guy
HALLELUJAH! IT LIVES!!!
Shame. Gilgamesh likes Xante, but the two of them might come to blows in the future other goals conflict.
6505448 And he is...in Equestria at least. He never said anything about outside.
6498147 Well...he still a lich, so... you can't really say the story is alive. More like 'fabulously undead'.
6556167 I never said it was alive, just that it was back vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/kpwebb/images/1/1b/Awesome_Smiley_Original.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20110409092340
I so want this guy to meet my displaced, they're a Big Daddy and a Little Sister,
I am sending this note to let you know that I am enjoying this story. I do hope to see more chapter at sum point in time. I do hope it is soon.
Dragonfox
i wish this would update...
7366729 ...wow, you are... something? Proof is the measure of alcohol, for every two proof, it equals one percent by volume. So no, I was right when I called his drink weak. It might be a spelling error, but you can't use both proof and percent like that. 130 %percent is definitely wrong. 130 proof equals 65% is correct.
Don't talk liquor with a Texan, you'll only wake up under the table.
I need this to update
My god, I normally do not like anthro stories but his is so so FABULOUS! I couldn't stop reading.
also is:
that a reference to another displaced story or just him writing that tidbit in.
7792958 "Bomb Survivors". Alright, I mightily lol'd, friend. XD
6497753 it is dead
....Come baaaaaaaaaack!
*Cries in corner*
The cover art tho....
Who posts a reply to a three year old comment on a story that hasn't been updated in two years? This guy -> Ender001! 8323031
8323343
I find your response more foolish than the one that your poking fun at. This story may not be updated, and may be years old, however its on the internet and being discovered by new readers who have just discovered and enjoy this story. They are excited about it and want to make a comment. Not a comment to a dead Author, but a comment to the readers like yourself who still follow this commentary thread. To use your thinking, someone would berate you for even looking at a thread on a dead story this old. After all, whats the point? Using your thinking, its just as pointless to follow a dead comment thread as it is to comment on one.
I however look at it differently. Take my comment for an example. Its not a comment for an Author who hasn't been here for over a year and will most likely will never read it. It is also not a comment for you or any other reader on this site. My comment is for the benefit of active writers who may come across this story in future. I want to point out to them the catastrophic mistake that this Author made that not only derailed his/her own story, but caused the loss of readers half way through. I am trying to get the Active Authors to think.
The Monk
8323343
I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT WHAT YO OPINION IS.
8340365
And don't forget protagonist of a story that's currently on life support if not completely dead.
5697857
More?
*poke* *poke*
Also, that chapter was like kicking a kitten. You had made it look like he had reformed, or was trying. What was that for?
be the not dead.
I turned myself into a pickle, Morty!
While i do really hope that this continues, after it being incomplete for 5 years now my hopes are about as dead as Xante's Libido
wow, forgot this fic existed it died so hard...sad, pretty sure it was funny, what i remember of it