OPEN SIDE STORY The Evrensel Conflict — Project Clean Up

[rissa]

MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE THE COMMAND CENTER


There was still a mingling crowd within the cargo bay as 'scattered' shared hopeful glances, worried looks, and paranoid curiosity. Some broke out into conversation, microcosms forming in real time, whether it be based on looks or power or lack thereof. The presentation had unsettled a good portion of the 'scattered', the look of impossibility etched upon their visage— but a few were hyped, moved by Alec's rousing speech.

One such 'scattered' made his way through the crowd at top-notch speed, towards a corridor he had snuck into a few days prior. The short, squat, and pleasantly pink-in-the-face man wore a funky little white hat, a magnificent mustache, and wielded a ladle like a mighty sword. One that was perhaps passed down, as anyone who'd seen him before had seen him white-knuckling the damascus patterned ladle as if it were going to jump out of his grasp and throw itself into the black of the cosmos.

"OI!" The man shouted above the din, smashing his ladle into a button that hissed out a gout of air. Behind him, a panel slid backwards, revealing a corridor beyond. The air that rushed out was stale and perhaps a bit acrid, but the soft lighting was unlike most of the Pathfinder; it was inviting, welcoming, warm. Gustave had a dream… but it would take more than just him to bring it to fruition.

"Listen up, my fellow lost adrifters! I need volunteers to help reclaim a culinary catastrophe! There's a mess hall just down this way, one that's in absolute shambles. Together we can transform this forsaken space into a symphony of sizzling pans and a masterpiece of culinary creativity— a gathering place for all of us to enjoy a warm, nutritious meal!"

He inhaled, his deep reverberating tone traveling across the entire cargo bay.

"Once you see the state of this kitchen… Yes, yes, the task before us is daunting— the grime and grease seemingly insurmountable, but I say to you: where there is grease, there is glory! Stand with me, please, and roll up your sleeves, for today, we do not merely clean - we create! We bring life back to these forgotten stoves, these neglected tables, these abandoned halls!"

There was a long awkward silence after Chef Gustave's impassioned plea for assistance, but before the silence could dampen his spirits he turned on his heel and paved the way forward. The hallway was a short one, less than fifty feet long and at the end were two openings. The left seemed to be more of a kitchen, the right more of a mess hall, but either side would congregate into a wide open space when traversed. Dust and grime were everywhere, tables and chairs too, half overturned and crumbled, while utensils were strewn about haphazardly. The curved windows in the front room were covered with a layer of filth and mire so thick that it had taken Gustave scraping it clean to realize what they were a few days back. Staring out at the stars made him realize they could use this— he could use this!

After all, a good meal made the day end so much sweeter.

The Evrensel Conflict Presents....
PROJECT CLEAN UP

Starring:

@Apothecary Bruce as Caleb Pike
@ThePotatoGod as Michinaga Azuma
@Wade Von Doom as Deadpool
​

 

[Wade Von Doom]

"Look, there is profit to be made from this!" Exclaimed an excited Deadpool as he left the committee meeting. "You got all these worlds under threat of annihilation, and some of them most definitely do not have the firepower needed to defend themselves. So who better to protect your home than some very generous, and also very expensive heroes for hire! I mean, it's a killing waiting to happen! Both literally and figuratively," Deadpool explained, leading his merry band of morally gray misfits down the hallway towards the kitchen.

"I even got a name for us all worked out! Ahem… The Multi-Mercs!" He stopped dead in his tracks to reveal the name, opening his arms out wide to bask in the glory of such an ingenious name. "Eh? Ehhhh?" He waited patiently to hear the outpour of support.

While Wade had been here from the very start of the AI conflict, it was only now that he had rejoined the team after venturing off on his own. The others, however, Don and Michinaga,were brand new to this whole multiverse nonsense. As always with scattered, a flash of green light had taken the crazed employee of the Limbus Company and yet to be anti-hero/anti-villain/anti-fun Kamen Rider. Their memories were of whatever they were doing on their home planets, followed by a daze of dreamlike images and vague landscapes as they were held in stasis. Both were being studied by the station's AI, but luckily, before they were then made into scientist experiments on par with dissecting frogs, the station was taken over by the heroes and they were freed.

Freed, specifically, by the man waiting to hear their thoughts on the 'Multi-Mercs' name. He found them still in stasis, unlocked their 'cells,' and with both of them caught up on the AI menace, they were now waiting until after the committee settled its affairs to finally get into the action of saving the multiverse.

 

[ThePotatoGod]

MICHINAGA AZUMA

Interaction: @rissa @Wade Von Doom @SorryTM

The Wayfinder's Cafeteria was less than desirable for everyone stranded in this place--Michinaga included, though he couldn't exactly complain about it when asked to clean it since he's one of the few that's stranded here. It's a group effort; not that he's a team player himself, but at this point, he might as well stay with them for the war. Not like he could just pop back in the Game after Geats probably won already.

"I'm gonna be brutally honest--I don't like it." Michinaga answered, "It just sounds stupid. And this is coming from the guy who got slapped with 'Buffa' as his codename." He gave his simple explanation, still slightly peeved at the name given to him by the DGP; to be perfectly honest, he's jiving with the Wayfinder Alliance better, but whatever they're on about is gonna get on his nerves eventually that he had to leave with Wade the moment he did. Not like he's contributing to the conversation anyway.

Arriving at the Kitchen, Michinaga stepped forth and assessed the damage. Cleaning up is kinda part of the job at this point, though he usually skimps out on em' thanks to the Games. He looked around in search of the cleaning tools to be used for the operation; though he preemptively started with picking up the strewn about utensils.

He let out a groan--this is definitely gonna take awhile.

[/div]

 

[Apothecary Bruce]

Caleb wasn't really sure what went wrong. One moment, he was in his hell-pod - ready for another mission, ready to deploy to activate the Terminid Control System (they were nearly there!), but of course, he never actually reached the ground.
When his pod opened, it wasn't on the sandy dunes of a bug planet, but rather the hard, cool metal of the Pathfinder. It was a lot more clean and sheik than his own SES Courier of Steel, or anything he'd seen in his life, besides, of course, the Illuminate.

He had had a funny time after that, realizing his pod had been swapped out for a cryo-pod, finding his weapons and equipment, nearly blowing the head off some guy with tall pointy ears and a pretty odd Diver uniform. Turned out, the Illuminates had not abducted him, but rather some other force - like the Illuminates merged with the Automatons, a grisly thought.
Per 'Batman's' word, these AI were marching their robotic forces across all universes, infringing on people's freedoms everywhere. The Helldiver wondered what his great-great grandfather, Jack Pike, would've said. "Kill the bastards," sure, but which bastards? "The goddamn aliens." Thanks, pops. Will do.

---

@Wade Von Doom
@ThePotatoGod

The mild clanking of ceramic armor plating, mixing with the sharp whine of bending, stretched leather, alerted Deadpool and his group to a newcomer. The merc didn't recognize him - at least, from the station's crew. He was rather gaudy by most eyes, though by Wade's standards the Helldiver sergeant was a touch tame. On his hips sat two parallel sidearms, held in his hands was an assault rifle of some kind, and slung over his back was a long-barreled sniper rifle - at least fifty caliber, by the merc with a mouth's estimation.

"I heard there was a clean-up operation," he asked, voice young but certain beyond belief of himself. "I hope you guys are here to help. We'll need every hand we can get if we're planning to get this place picked up. Every bit of effort counts towards the collective goal of restoring freedom to our choice of meals. The tyranny of pre-packaged food, not approved by Super Earth Command, won't be allowed to stand any longer.
"Where's the mops? The scrubs? I can't enact the will of Super Earth upon these stains without the proper tools, and I can't get a strategem signal in here."

 

[rissa]

HEAD CHEF GUSTAVE

@Wade Von Doom @Apothecary Bruce @ThePotatoGod



Gustave let out an involuntary shiver, glancing back and forth between his three helpers. The purple one seemed friendly enough, but there was something unsettling about the one in the red-and-black get up and the one in the black armor... Well, he was down right terrifying, despite the mere inches that separated them in height. Gustave swore in his mother tongue and forced out a genial smile. After a moment it was genuine, truly thankful for the help. His chest puffed up and he beckoned them forward, farther into the kitchen proper.

"Mops, buckets, brooms, and scrappers aplenty inside this breezeway."

Gustave was well past his prime but he kept a brisk pace as he led them forward and then began doling out the promised goods. There was plenty for everyone and at least another ten volunteers. The only thing that was missing was garbage bags, but with a place as fancy and technological as this, Gustave assumed there was a garbage chute hidden somewhere in the mess hall. A place as big as this simply couldn't function without one!

"Back there is the freezers. Surprisingly, none too messy, though I assume the power must have malfunctioned at some point. The ice is frosted over!" There was a trail of what looked like melted ice cream, but Gustave mopped up the trail and excitedly escorted them back into the kitchen. "So! Who'd like to start where?"

Kitchen Visual

 

[rissa]

PROJECT CLEAN UP WRAPS WITH THE NEWLY DUBBED 'THE EATERY' OPENING FOR "BUSINESS" AFTER QUICK WORK OF GREASE STAINS, MOLDY LEFT OVERS, AND GRIMEY WINDOWS OVERLOOKING THE STARS!​

While Gustave's set of stoves looked absolutely pristine (including the walls, drip trays, and the kitchen's trash chute!), during the hour and a half it took to complete that task alone those who rose to the summons had done double — no, triple — the amount of work he'd done. The rest of the kitchen (and beyond, as he peeked through the galley-like windows to the dining room portion) sparkled; the smell of hard work and disinfectant a pleasant tang in the air.

The acrid and mildewy scent remained no longer.

The old man nodded approvingly as he set out inspecting the rest of the kitchen, checking behind piled dishware and pots and pans, crevices between shelves and stoves and refrigerators that began working once their coils had been cleaned. He nearly toppled over when he heard Caleb's squeal of terror and the successive blast of gunfire that proceeded it.

"There mustn't be rats in The Eatery!" Gustave said with finality, quite liking the name Caleb shouted. "Go!" The old man said with a robust, overly puffed chest, "Gather a few willing hunters and catch the foul creatures. Set traps too! I can't serve food where rats are mingling about!" Under his breath, as he turned on his heel to head back to the kitchen Gustave added, "If you manage to catch any, let me know and I'll slide a few chits your way."

With that he shuffled away and claimed a few clean pots, pans, and dishware. He shuffled around in a pouch he procured from his pocket and retrieved a few precious herbs. Gustave chopped a few, ground a few, and placed them in the waiting pots. He used his ladle to stir them, toasting them slightly, and then spoke a command word too low for anyone to hear. From the ladle itself different kinds of stews and sauces spewed forth — one was a thick chowder based concoction and another simmered slowly, small chunks of beef wafting through the dark broth and the kitchen and beyond.

Gustave smiled and called out to the nearest volunteer. "Tell the others we're almost ready to serve dinner!"

Something clattered to the floor with a bang in the freezer and with a sigh, Gustave washed off his ladle, stuck it in his belt, and went to go see what'd fallen. A few moments after Gustave's warm declaration there was another shout, this time terror-filled, and unfortunately cut short. Within the frozen goods and ice was an entrance to another land... and something was in the midst of crawling through.

WELL — IT'S SORTA OPEN TO EAT...? ​