Chapter 1: Multiverse Job Offers – Are You F-ing Serious?

By Steve2

Author's Note:

Many, many years ago I enjoyed reading Daria fanfiction. As Daria fanfiction was based off a TV show, stories were written without normal book structure. It was a fun way to read a story, since an assumption was made that the readers would already visually fill in the background settings mentally as they had likely seen the show. I've always remembered that simplified style and for this story I thought I would give it a shot and go for a story told almost entirely by dialog.

This story has a minimalist approach to anything non-dialog related. Please let me know if this hits the mark, or if you, the reader, are turned off by this style. I can always modify it.

-oo0oo-

In another time, another place…

A young man was escorted to a private compartment on a train. He was dazed and didn't track everything like he normally would have. Others were also seated in other compartments around him. They did not look his way at all and as long as they were on the train, they did not blink or move.

In another part of the massive train station that was eerily silent even though thousands upon thousands of people were being escorted onto the train, a young woman of similar age to the young man was escorted to a private compartment in a car far removed from the young man.

Soon after she was seated, the massive train left the station, its thousand cars clattering behind the engine. Both the young man and young woman were woozy, but as the train picked up speed through the ethereal whiteness, they each gained lucidity and looked around.

Young man (mutters to himself): Glad I have a private compartment and don't have to sit with all those weirdos.

Young woman (mutters to herself): Wonder if this compartment has any curtains? Last thing I want is to have all those naked people sitting out there looking in at me with those creepy blank expressions.

A few more "miles" out from the train station, they each had that light-bulb moment.

Young woman (to self): Aw shit. I'm on a train to Hell, aren't I?

Young man (to self): Figures this is the train to Hell after all the people I got killed.

Young woman (to self): Well, at least I'm headed to the right place considering all the horrible things I did with my life. Must be in the VIP section since I totally screwed the pooch with my life.

After realization came to each that they were on a psychic train ride to a metaphysical location filled with flames and freezing temperatures, depending on the literature read, they each looked around their compartments for something to read. After all, neither knew how long it would take to reach the end of the line.

Stuffed under a seat, the young woman found seven books. She read the titles and they all had the same first four words followed by something else. They were: Harry Potter and the… She had not heard of these books, and since she had the time, she began to read.

The young man also looked under the seats, but found nothing. He then looked between the seats and found a tablet. It was one of those fancy things he could never touch lest he accidentally destroy it. But this one was different. It was powered on, he could touch it without it sparking out, and it had only one thing he could press with his finger. It was an icon called: Worm. He pressed the icon and a story displayed. He had never heard of this story, but since he had the time, he began to read.

Time slipped by. Neither the young man nor the young woman were aware of how much time, as they were engrossed in the stories they were reading. However, each was very upset with the endings they had read. Not entirely due to the content either. True, many people lived and died in their stories, but the young woman was upset as all the pages after the character Harry Potter had seemingly killed Voldemort had been torn out of the book. She could not read how the story ended. The young man was upset as all the text on the tablet after the scene in which someone shot Taylor in the head had garbled and he could not read what happened to her. He smacked the tabled to "shake" the text loose but all that did was cause the screen to wink out and he could not power it up again.

A conductor opened each of their doors and said their stop was next, to get ready, and to mind the steps when exiting the train. They descended the steps on the stopped train and noticed the platform was not very busy. The young man saw a young woman step down from a train car a bit away and be approached by someone carrying a sign. A similar sign, he suspected, of the elderly man approaching him. That sign read: HARRY POTTER.

Harry: I'm Harry Potter. Can I help you?

Elderly man: Yes sir. I am here to escort you to your next stop. Do you require any assistance?

Harry: No, sir.

Elderly man: Then let us be on our way. This way, young man.

Harry and the elderly gentleman left the train station. Approximately 200 meters away, the young woman noticed the elderly lady with the sign, which read: TAYLOR HEBERT.

Taylor: I'm Taylor Hebert. Do I know you?

Elderly lady: No, miss. I am simply here to escort you to your next stop. Are you able to walk?

Taylor: Oh, uh, yes, I can walk. Was there a possibility I couldn't walk?

Elderly lady: It happens sometimes, miss. When I pick up others from the train station. Best to ask up front I always say.

Taylor: Okay.

Elderly lady: We should be on our way, miss. This way if you please.

Taylor and the elderly lady left the train station.

Several hundred meters away, Harry walked next to the quiet elderly man.

Harry: Could you tell me where we are going?

Elderly man: Of course, sir. We are headed to that building over there.

The building in question was a massive skyscraper easily higher than it should be as Harry saw no end in sight to its height. It was about as wide as most large buildings in a city, meaning it was about as wide as it was thick as a half-city block. The building was also the only building the white mist they stepped into after leaving the train station.

Taylor had the same question and same response from her escort.

Taylor: That is a large building.

Elderly lady: Yes, miss.

Taylor: What happens in that building?

Elderly lady: Bureaucracy, miss.

Taylor (mutters to self): This must be Hell.

-oo0oo-

Harry entered a small office on the 37,809th floor. There was an equally small waiting room with four chairs, two against each wall. Next to the door was a ticket machine and he pulled a tab. It said "6". On the wall was a dull red electronic sign that stated: "Now Serving: 5". A receptionist sat at a desk blocking his view of the window. That was fine since all he could see was white mist. A coffee table in the middle of the waiting area had magazines on it. Harry sat down.

Taylor entered the same small office on the 37,809th floor and saw a dark-haired young man sitting in a chair looking at some magazines on a coffee table. She saw the ticket machine, pulled a tab, saw the red electronic sign, and a digital clock on the wall stating it was 11:56. She sat across from the young man so she could also see the magazines. And maybe get an idea why she was here. Or what she should do. A quick glance at the magazines on the table had her thinking of see what other magazines were in the plastic holders attached to the wall by the door they came in.

An unknown number of minutes later, as time seemed to ignore the clock on the wall, the receptionist looked up at the two people sitting in the waiting area.

Receptionist: Mr. Smyth will be a bit longer than expected, I'm afraid. Why don't you two head down the hall across from the elevators you came up in to the cafeteria and have some lunch? Or get something to drink. Feel free to take the magazines you're reading if you like.

With nothing else to do, Harry and Taylor went to the cafeteria, got something to eat and drink and found a table together since there was only one left unoccupied.

Harry: Um, hi. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. My name is Harry Potter.

Taylor: You're kidding, right? The Harry Potter that's a wizard?

Harry: You know me?

Taylor: Never met you before. Read some Harry Potter stories though.

Harry: I heard about those books. It's all fiction. I never lived in a castle in the sky.

Taylor: Yeah, okay. Hi yourself. I'm Taylor Hebert.

Harry: Wait. The Taylor that's Skitter? Weaver?

Taylor: …yeah? Don't take this the wrong way, but this is weird.

Harry: Tell me about it. I'm a wizard and you're a parahuman.

Taylor: So, you are the wizard Harry Potter?

Harry: Yeah. You're right. This is weird.

Their conversation started off stilted but gained momentum as each asked the other about their life, their family, their friends, their school, and their activities to save their people. Harry was curious as to what life was like in Brockton Bay after Leviathan happened. Taylor wanted to know what it really was like with the Dursley's. Harry was curious to know what Taylor and Emma used to do in middle school. Taylor wondered if Harry ever got any action while at school from any of the girls there.

They began a rhythm of questions and answers. Taylor would ask a question and while Harry was answering, Taylor would eat. Then Harry would ask a question and Harry would eat while Taylor supplied the information.

They continued to give overviews and highlights of situations until the end of their lives was in sight.

Taylor: You know, I read your story on the train ride here. I got to the point where you killed Voldemort and then the story just stopped. What happened?

Harry shrugged, and the memory didn't hurt as much as he thought it might.

Harry: I killed Voldemort. His people surrendered. A parade was held. Parties were thrown. I was conned into attending a gala event on my 18th birthday. Lots of people, and someone conked me over the head during all the festivities. I woke up in the Ministry of Magic later. Turns out Rufus Scrimgeour wasn't as dead as I had thought. And it seems he still had friends who all thought I was too dangerous to let live. So a couple of burly chaps grabbed arms and legs each, and chucked me through the Veil of Death.

Taylor: That's pretty cold.

Harry: I thought so too once I remembered it. Hopefully their train ride will take them to Hell.

Taylor: Yeah, hope so.

Harry: I read your story too. Except the ending. What happened on your end?

Taylor: I used my powers to win the war, but not save everyone. Billions died because I wasn't stronger than I was.

Harry: But billions still lived because of you, Taylor.

Taylor: Yeah. But it still felt bitter. Anyway, we won. There was healing done on many people. Not for me. Not at that time at least. Panacea left to take care of someone else. This is when someone else came up to the cot I was on, told me I was too dangerous to let live and shot me before I could do anything. I didn't put up a fight. How could I? That person was right. I had turned into a monster by the end.

Harry: Yeah. I felt I was a monster too. But Taylor? You're not a monster. You did what you needed to in order for your world to survive.

Taylor: I guess.

The two changed subjects and continued talking during the rest of their meal. They cleaned up after themselves and returned to the waiting room. Once seated and looking at the clock on the wall which indicated they had been gone for only an hour, Harry asked Taylor a question that was bothering him.

Harry: Do you think we are in Hell?

Taylor: Not sure. Dad always said bureaucracies were hell to work with, and bureaucrats were the worst, so it is possible.

Harry: If this is Hell, then at least I'm glad to have met you, Taylor.

Taylor: Same to you, sport. You're not so bad yourself.

A few minutes later, the receptionist made an announcement into a microphone.

Receptionist: Now serving number 6. Number 6 please. Mr. Smyth would like to see number 6 in his office. Thank you!

Harry stood. As did Taylor. They compared tickets. They were both a 6. Shrugging, they entered the office. Inside is another small office, a couple hard plastic chairs in front of a desk that has several paper piles that look close to falling over. An average-size man sat behind the desk, looking at some papers in a manila folder. He wore a white button-up shirt, a red tie, and a snarky attitude.

Man: My name is Supervisor Smyth. You are in Purgatory. The Multiverse is real. Any questions so far?

Harry: Well, I would like…

Smyth: Here. This is a Purgatory 101 manual which contains all the afterlife regulations you want to know about and then some.

Smyth handed them each a manual the size of a large phone book with tissue-thin paper and microscopic text on it.

Smyth: You may read this as your leisure. I am here to process your selections. Any questions.

Taylor shook her head in negative as did Harry since he was just as quick on the uptake.

Smyth: Good. My suggestion to you both is: just go with it. It saves getting a headache when you think about things too much. As for your selections, you are both here as you have similar backgrounds. I thought we could do a combo meeting for both of you and save some time. Sound good? Good.

Harry and Taylor each put the massive book given to them under their chairs where they would ignore them later.

Smyth: Both of you have been villains as well as heroes in your lives.

Harry: Well, I wasn't a villain as much as people told I was…

Smyth waved off the comment and Harry stopped speaking.

Smyth: It is immaterial if you actually were a villain or hero at one time. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that the perceptions of others who knew you or knew of you have weight in deciding where you are now. Any way either of you look at it, your souls are in balance and therefore you get to spend some time helping out the living one way or another before going to your final reward.

Harry made to ask something but was cut off.

Smyth: Hold all questions now, thank you. Since you are in Purgatory, you now have options available to you as you will find employment in one of the many various departments here. For example, you can be invisible as well as intangible guardian angels who are assigned to watch over a specific person for a specific time. Doing this allows you to get back to Earth. You will not be able to touch, smell, breathe, or taste anything there, but you will be able to see and hear what is going on there… within the scope of your assigned person to watch over.

Taylor: Will they be able to hear us or see us?

Smyth: They will not be able to see you, and anything you say to them will be interpreted by their emotions into something they understand, if not know where it came from. Now, another department here is being part of a retrieval squad. Sometimes demons, and even angels get an idea in their heads and end up on Earth looking for certain people. We cannot have that happen, so a retrieval squad is dispatched, armed for anything and everything.

Harry: You shoot angels?

Smyth: No. Well, not too bad anyway. Next we have the supernatural police. If something goes amiss, you would need to track down its roots and stop it. Example: a demonic can gets misplaced on a shipment to Earth; it lands in some mortal's hands and next then you know there is a massive street brawl with the number of dead rising. In that case, your job would be to get that can and return it to Hell.

Taylor: How do you know about the can in that example?

Smyth: No clue. Not my department. Next, you can inhabit a mechanical spooky fortune teller that helps young kids with height issues. Or so I heard. Not sure on that one.

Harry: Pass.

Taylor: Me too. Pass.

Smyth: Very well. We have multiverse troubleshooter. You go into situations where something bad is about to happen and diffuse the situation. Example: A Duke is about to marry a Princess when she becomes a monster and he orders her killed, but a troubleshooter ensures that her monstrous "Prince Charming" is able to free himself and save the day.

Taylor: Isn't that from the movie "Shrek"?

Smyth: Moving on. Do either of you have any musical talent? If so we have openings for interspatial musicians.

Harry: No talent.

Taylor: Forget that role. Do you have a list you are working from or anything that we can view?

Smyth (annoyed with them): Here.

He hands them a long document filled with legalese, tiny text, and areas to sign.

Harry: Don't touch that area of the document, Taylor. A fingerprint is all that is needed to execute that particular clause.

Taylor: Harry? You understand this legal jargon?

Harry: Absolutely. It's a snap, really. I've been able to understand legal documents since I could read. Has something to do with being able to speak the serpent tongue, and that lawyers are generally considered serpents in disguise.

Supervisor Smyth looked a little nervous at Harry's comment about reading lawyer-speak. He pushed forward a contract for them to sign.

Smyth: You both need to decide what you want to do as an afterlife career and then get going on that path. My next appointment will be here in a few minutes, so let's not take all day with this.

Harry (still reading): Mm-hmmm.

Smyth: All you need to do is check the career path and sign the final page.

Harry (still reading): Mm-hmmm.

Smyth: If need be, you can just sign the last page and I will pick a role that is suitable for both of you. Trust me. I'll do what is right here.

Harry (still reading): Mm-hmmm.

Taylor noticed Supervisor Smyth looking at his watch and the wall clock several more times, his agitation gaining.

Harry: Supervisor Smyth? There are areas next to each job definition with an Official Use tag, but no instructions. What are they used for?

Smyth: Those blank areas are for any additional items that need to be put into effect for the person in the job they select, such as the ability for an afterlife-individual to be able to speak a specific language in order for them to do what they need to and so forth. This is typically filled in by a supervisor such as myself.

Harry: Understood.

Harry nodded and continued reading.

Supervisor Smyth's phone rang and he answered it.

Smyth: I'm in the middle of a meeting… what? When? How bad? What about the other person? Uh-huh. I'll be right there. (Hangs up phone.) I have to take care of a personal issue. I will return in a few minutes. I'll need your decision when I return.

Smyth rushed out of the office. Taylor stopped fake-reading the legal contract and instead looked over the top of Smyth's desk. A few minutes later she nodded and returned to Harry's side.

Harry: You find anything?

Taylor: Yep. His desk calendar shows an early appointment with someone.

Harry: Not surprised. He wants us out of here fast.

Taylor: Agreed. Something tells me he wanted to get people in and out today so he had time to get all purtied up to meet someone for a date.

Harry: Taylor, we're in Purgatory.

Taylor: True. But who is to say you can't go on a date in Purgatory? I mean, he rushed out of here to take care of his car being dinged in a parking garage of all things.

Harry: How did you know that?

Taylor: Because I am used to being sneaky and listened in on his conversation. His car got dinged. Probably scratched or something and he wanted to make sure it was all fine before he went out on his date.

Harry smiled. He then gave her the very quick summation of all the jobs listed on the document provided.

Harry: I tell you, all these jobs… For the most part, they stink. But what can we do? We didn't get a good deal when we were alive, and we sure as Hell aren't getting anything good now that we are dead.

Taylor: You got that right. But what sounds good? You heard him. We don't pick something, then someone will pick for us.

Harry: Anything sound interesting?

Taylor: I sure can't see myself being some kid's guardian angel, so I'm thinking more of the multiverse troubleshooter.

Harry: I was thinking that myself. And if we both do that, then we may be allowed to work together. Something I would not regret as I could really use a friend these days.

Taylor smiled and ruffled his hair.

Harry: However, if we are going to be multiverse troubleshooters, I think we should have every advantage we can think of, don't you agree?

Taylor: Absolutely. Smyth has been gone for a few minutes now. Figure we have about 20 minutes total before he is back. Sound good?

Harry: Agreed. Let's see what kind of abilities we can put in the margins. After all, I didn't hear him say we couldn't write any of it in ourselves.

Harry and Taylor brainstormed and wrote down everything they could think of in the Official Use only area next to multiverse troubleshooter. Some ideas were specific and others generic. But Harry wrote furiously in the margins while Taylor ticked off abilities she knew capes in her world had. Taylor also looked out the door every minute to see if Smyth was on his way back.

Finally, Harry's keen snake-sense told him the contract was filled out well enough to pass cursory inspection. He had Taylor initial and sign and once done, he initialed and signed in the appropriate places.

Contract finished, they tidied up the area, pulled the massive tomes from under their chairs and began reading. Time elapsed: 22 minutes. It was another five minutes before Smyth rushed back in, flushed and out of breath.

Smyth: My apologies for that unexpected event. Have you two made a decision yet?

Taylor: We have. We have each selected the multiverse troubleshooter role.

Harry: And we have checked the appropriate boxes, initialed the appropriate pages, and signed in the appropriate places, each countersigning as a witness to one another.

Supervisor Smyth nodded in satisfaction and began to thumb through the contract when a voice spoke over his phone's speaker.

Receptionist (via phone speaker): Mr. Smyth? Your next appointment is here.

Supervisor Smyth paused, then went to the last page of the contract, noted the signatures, countersigned them, stamped it with an official stamper, and put it into the out-box where it promptly vanished.

Smyth: Good choice. You now need to go to the Multiverse Troubleshooter office. Go out the office, turn left, down the hall to the fifth door on the right. Room 55. You will find out more of what you need to do there. Now if you will excuse me, I have the next person to meet with.

Harry and Taylor put the massive books down, shook Smyth's hand, and left his office. They went to the office they were directed to and knocked on the frosted-glass paneled door.

Voice: Enter!

Harry and Taylor entered the office. It is sparse with furniture. There was one person sitting at a desk. An old computer monitor took up about a quarter of the desk. There were three uncomfortable plastic chairs against the wall. A fake plant sat in a corner collecting metaphysical dust. There was no window, but a poster of the universe was tacked to the wall. The poster had a red arrow on it with the words: "You are here" in yellow lettering.

A woman about 40-50 years of age stood and extended a hand to each of them.

Woman: I just got your paperwork. My name is Mandy Chipper and I will be your boss. Harry and Taylor is it?

Harry: Yes, ma'am.

Mandy: Oh, feel free to call me Mandy. We are all on the same team here. Do either of you have a nickname you would like to go by, or a different pronunciation of your name I should use?

Harry: Since I understand there is a possibility of meeting myself somewhere out there, I'd just like to go by "H" if I can.

Taylor: And I'd like to go by "T".

Mandy: Not a problem. T and H. Glad your first name wasn't Alex, H. (She and Taylor laughed, while H shook his head in resignation.) Simple and to the point. Got it. You kids get the rundown of what we do here?

H: Somewhat.

Mandy: Likely not enough, I'm sure. I know I didn't have enough when I signed up for this job. So let me give it to you straight. I'm your supervisor. Anything happens in the field you need assistance with, or you want to discuss, please contact me. If management has an issue with your work, they will contact me, and I'll discuss it with you. That does not happen very often, but it has happened. Management really does not like coming to this floor.

T: Sounds like all the big shots I knew back home.

Mandy: I know, right? Also, I will be giving your assignments. You will have a choice of which to select, but likely you will get a backlog that I will monitor and make sure gets done. I have a tendency to micro-manage projects, but not people. You are the field agents. You make the decisions. I just make sure the protoplasmic paperwork gets done. Good so far?

H and T nod that they understood.

Mandy: Now I am happy you are here since we have a lot of assignments to fill.

Mandy motioned with her hand at a stack of paperwork in an IN basket. There were more than just a few.

Mandy: Give me a few minutes to review your paperwork from Smythe.

T and H looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and sat quietly. A minute later, Mandy whistled in amazement.

Mandy: That is a lot of perks you got with this job. How in the cosmos did you get Supervisor Smythe to sign off on that long list of things you get with this job?

H: He didn't balk at any of it.

T kept her mouth shut.

Mandy shrugged her shoulders as she finished reading the paperwork.

Mandy: Well, good for you getting all those perks. Just glad it's not my afterlife job on the line if things go sour with that power upgrade. Ah well. Time to get to work.

Mandy stood and stretched her arms to get the kinks out of the joints.

Mandy: do you have any questions about the multiverse?

T: I'm cool.

H: I know that other realities exist, but really don't understand it all.

Mandy: Here's the short of it, then. For every decision made, there can be an alternate decision made which can in turn create an alternate universe. That is the classical stance on it and let me tell you, it's a load of crap. If every decision had an equal decision, think of how many alternate universes there would be. Trust me, there may be billions or even trillions of alternate dimensions, but if that piece of logic were to be followed, then there would be quintillions of trillions of billions of universes, with more being built exponentially all the time. Yeah, that's so not happening.

H: So what triggers an alternate universe?

Mandy: A nexus event engaging. For example, you, H, were a nexus event waiting to happen. You dying before Riddle? That was an off-kilter event based off what people around you knew shouldn't have happened. T? Same with you.

T: Are you saying that I should have lived?

Mandy: I'm saying that when you were shot, when you died a new reality formed for the other "you" that lived. Because you were a nexus event personified that people you knew, and others that knew of you wanted you to live.

H: So that's all it is?

Mandy: Oh, no. There is much more to it than that. But believe me, you don't want me to spend the next century explaining things to you. You will need to view it all yourself. Once you've seen a version of yourself in a world that did not exist where you were from originally, things will start to make more sense. Or… now that I think of it, you might just feel like ignoring sense and just going along with everything.

T: Fine. H? Since we're already here, no sense trying to get back to life, eh? Zombie-H want to eat brains!

H: You are so weird, T.

T: Thanks!

Mandy: Okay you two, listen up. Usually a troubleshooter is assigned realities they are familiar with as they will understand situations better. However, T is from a vastly different reality than you are, H. But since you know one another, and seem to get along pretty good, I'd like to keep you together as a troubleshooter team for some of the hot zones.

H: Hot zones?

T: Don't sweat it, H. We're dead, remember?

H: Oh yeah. Hot zones it is!

Mandy: Good. Now while you will be out in the multiverse as troubleshooters, you will likely encounter other versions of yourselves out there. Normally I would just tell you that should that happen, your appearance would morph into someone else and they would never recognize you. And not only would you look like someone completely different, so would your walking, talking, how you smell, and so on. Basically, everything about you would be different so no one would think there are two Harry Potters or two Taylor Heberts in that world. However, you two scamps managed to get the ability to morph your appearance anytime you want power upgrade, so you can look like anyone you want these days. So if I can make a suggestion? Change your appearance before you go into a world.

H: Yeah, okay.

T: Sure.

Mandy pulled out the first assignment from the crowded in-basket.

Mandy: Okay, turns out there is a reality in which an Albus Dumbledore and a Voldemort are in charge of their respective forces and have been pitted in a stalemate battle-footing for about 10 years. Muggles have suffered from that. T, you know what a muggle is? Okay, good. Albus has decided to summon a hero in order to vanquish Voldemort and his armies. Word has reached Voldemort of what Albus is doing and he is in the process of summoning a villain that can vanquish Albus and his armies. Your client is someone wanting to stop the madness.

She looked at the two of them.

Mandy: Interested in being summoned to that world? One hero, one villain? Keep in mind, as a troubleshooter, you do have some leeway in how things get resolved. As long as upper management is happy, then I'm happy.

T: Sounds like fun.

H: I agree.

Mandy pulled the summoning contract out and allowed them to read it.

H: Now I am really happy. This is going to be a fun contract.

T: Agreed. Let's do this one.

H and T go over the contract, make a few notes, talk over a few plans, and sign their names to the contract, handing it back to Mandy. She put it in her out-basket where it vanished.

As did H & T.

-oo00oo-

Author comments:

Strangely enough, this H&T story was the original catalyst for another story, Emma's Triggers, that I will begin posting soon. And as I write this, my mind can't help but think of how I can weave all my stories together to find that one common element. It's harder to do with the Daria story, but my mind is thinking about it.

As is, I have a total of 8 chapters in various states of creation for this story, with chapters 1 (this one) done, and 2 (next one) going through editing. The other 6 chapters are well under way. Ish.

Leaving reviews does get me motivated to write more.

And now that the setup is done, on with the show!