Welcome back to another chapter of Rise of Devastation! As always we shall be starting off with some answers to your reviews:
Soundblaster: First off, your guess was correct (I'm not telling which one was the right answer though, you'll have to wait a bit). Second, I will take your Omake request and suggestions under consideration. Third, I must reject your submission for "the incident," but I can promise White Fang Blake will make an early appearance, and that our boys will scare the crap out of her/call out her hypocrisy. Thank you kind sir.
Havoc: Long Haul is indeed the taller of the two, as well as the rest of the class really, though I do plan on adding taller people eventually. Goodwitch is going to slowly lose her mind, and then feel really bad when I finally pull the Flashback no jutsu on the six of them.
Tempest: those nicknames are good, but I'll play with Mixmaster's a bit more…
Razor: The Pits are somewhat located in the Northeast of Solitas, close enough to the pole so most navigational equipment (compasses since Remnant canonically does not have satellites) is worthless, further trapping them in their frozen hell. They were never free, the Pits were created as a way to deal with murderers, rapists, and other monsters in human flesh. Then those demons had kids… The Pits have a decent standing with Vacuo and Menagerie through various and often underhanded means, but are otherwise despised by the international community.
Sounshock156: As always, thank you for the kind words. I would be lying if I said Kaiju and anime didn't play some role in my idea for Devastator… but not AoT, that show was too grimdark by my early middle school standards I could never get into it (I had only just been exposed to Warhammer 40k).
Fulcrum: That was absolutely hilarious, thank you for the laughs.
Rampage: I thank you for your kind words sir. Cinder is arrogant enough to try to fight them when combined, but she definitely wouldn't win.
The Guests:
Gestalts showcase the best and worst of their parts, in this case Devastator contains the rage and madness that lies deep in the hearts of each of the constructicons. We will explore this madness throughout this fic, I promise you that much.
I've never played League, and I don't know much about Prussia. The Pits are a mixture of Alcatraz, Australia, and the Arctic. Culturally they're every prison yard stereotype and the russian mafia mixed with Roman Gladiators.
Those comics were too wholesome, thank you very much. When team RWBY shows up, expect sparks to fly (and not in a good way).
…. I forgot that IDW killed Scrapper, now I'm depressed….. That aside, the reference was completely unintentional.
Thank you for the compliment, it was a gamble bringing gestalts into Remnant at all, and it took me forever to figure out how to make it work. I'd say he's 1.5 times as tall as an Atlesian Paladin.
I have yet to decide on a work song for the constructicons, but I was planning on modifying the DanBull Frostpunk Song "Shelter from The Storm," especially the lines "So burn us in the furnace! let our souls ignite the flame!" chilling. Another song I'm thinking about is "On The Railroad" by The Longest Johns.
No one is getting drunk this chapter, but down the road you might see Drunk Soundwave.
You forgot option # 3: BOTH!
There will be a "fun" conversation between the two later on, I promise you that.
Velvet's dad is going to try to do the "hurt my daughter and I'll kill you speech," and it will backfire horribly. This will also happen with Ruby, but with Taiyang and Qrow…
Outside of Vale, only Atlas has a combiner team, the others are scattered throughout Remnant as criminals, mercenaries, or public servants. The terrorcons are related to Salem, though I'll explain how later.
First off, there was no need to say your review wasn't meant to be negative: I asked for your comment so that I can improve my writing, therefore any and all critiques are valid. Secondly, you read my warhammer stuff? Honestly I'm kinda embarrassed by them (they could use improvement). Thirdly, Warhammer III's release had me planning a whole story where the chaos gods send the advisor to Ozpin, offering him a wager where if he could get one champion to willingly join his side, they wouldn't end the world….but only if he does so before Archaon is crowned the Everchosen. I have the backgrounds for entire chaos, destruction, and death (Nagash and other minor death gods) worshiping tribes and cities would function in regards to the Grimm stewing in the dark corners of my brain. But for now, I'm going to hold off on writing about that monstrosity.
The constructicons are essentially built for a war of attrition, they aren't as skilled as someone like Velvet (who can copy her opponents after a few minutes) or as strong as Hazel, but they can endure a whole lot of damage before their aura and bodies break down. They're street brawlers, using bits and pieces of martial arts alongside every cheap shot known to man. Also, don't forget that everyone of the constructicons is somewhat certifiable, Scrapper's toy bios always mention how he loves using the living and corpses as a part of his buildings….
I know, I know, I need to post faster…. I got caught up in Elden Ring, okay?
I've heard about it, I'm not sure how I feel about a show getting a "reboot" when it's still ongoing, but maybe they'll use it to fix some of the problems the original hasn't fixed.
Chapter 8: Questions and Answers
"We shouldn't have agreed to this."
Scavenger knew that he didn't need to say his thoughts out loud, they all knew this plan had a one hundred percent chance of blowing up in their face.
But Scavenger had one thing that his five friends/brothers didn't: the old miners superstitions. There wasn't a single man or woman alive who made their money deep below the ground who didn't bring a canary into the mines, praying to whatever deity would answer that it kept singing. Scavenger had that paranoia, he had it in spades, and while he knew that it made him…. Annoying to be around, he also knew (at least, he told himself that he knew) that he would never be alone. Honestly it was one of the only good things about their messed up mind(s), and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
"Shut up Scavenger, if I wanted your advice on anything We'd give you a shovel."
…. Not even to stop Bonecusher from insulting him every five minutes.
"BOTH of you guys need to shut up," Long Haul grumbled as he was combing his hair, careful to tuck a few stray hairs behind his ears. "We all know that Scrapper slagged us on this one, but the fact that none of us spoke out against it when he offered it means that on some level we want this to happen."
"Or that we were afraid of getting vaporized by not one, but TWO! gatling guns! Mixmaster countered as he neatly arranged his chemistry sets according to his specifications. "On another note, how rich is Velvet's family? That camera of hers was using hard light dust."
"I don't see how that's any of our business." Long Haul muttered under his breath while he was going over the textbooks Soundwave had bought for them, and adding their total cost (with tax) to his mental and physical ledgers. When he was done he gave the physical copy to Hook to go over, once he was done moving one of their desks so that it was at a perfect ninety degree angle.
"With Mixmaster it's probably something to do with getting money to buy more chemicals to play with, ignore him Long Haul."
A rude gesture later, Bonecrusher and Mixmaster were going at it in the middle of the room, knocking into Scrapper as he was putting some of their notebooks up on a shelf, knocking him over and starting an even bigger fight.
How long have you known each other?
What was it like growing up in Kaon?
Do you have any family members? Do they know where you are? (Too personal).
How does your semblance work?
Are there any other side effects besides memory sharing and speech impediments?
Who is your "Mysterious Friend?" (Unlikely to receive an answer)
How loyal are you to this "Friend?".
Why do you participate in Pit Fights?
What are your views on Faunus Rights?
Do you know anything regarding the political environment of the Pits since you left?
When were you born (x6)?
What are your real names?
Velvet was currently undecided on whether or not she should add anymore questions to her list, gods know that she wasn't likely to get an answer to half of the questions she actually wanted to ask, but beggars can't be choosers (though she wasn't sure who was who in this scenario). Letting out a sigh, Velvet put down her notepad of questions, and allowed the chaos of her new environment to finally invade her thoughts.
It was an…. Interesting experience to be sharing a room with not one, but TWO boys. They tacitly agreed to divide the room in half, and had begun decorating their areas as they saw fit. Velvet's corner was filled with her photos and books of all stripes, from fantasy novels to ancient history. Coco was busy covering her walls with posters of her favorite models, as her desk was covered in her fashion and weapon designs.
Yatsuhashi kept his side rather spartan, a few pictures of his family and a rack for his armor were all that he deigned to bring out of his briefcase. Fox on the other hand, pulled out an entire collection of audiobooks, records, and a record player. It was an interesting set up, but Velvet couldn't really focus on appreciating what it said about each of them when there was a mystery that needed solving.
There was a knock on the door. "Velvet! Are you ready?"
"I'm coming, I'm coming." Velvet muttered as she went to open the door, ignoring Fox's muttered comment of "that's what she said," to find her team and team Sci-Fi waiting for her.
"Finally got your list ready for tonight's interrogation?" Coco smirked as her friend's cheeks went bright red.
"It's not an interrogation Coco!"
"Indeed, it is more akin to a strange mixture of confession and scientific inquiry." Ectronymous muttered as he brought out his own list of questions for the six. "Might we compare notes?"
"Easy Ectotron (that is not my name), let's not let our new team name define us for the rest of our stay just yet." his partner said as he turned towards the larger group. "Anybody know what their room number is?"
"I think they're down the hall around this corner." Fox answered, "Though from what I'm hearing, it sounds like there's a brawl going on."
Coco rolled her eyes behind her shades, already knowing that this was going to be a routine occurrence with the idiots that had ended up in her circle via association. "Come on, let's stop them from bashing their brains out."
The walk to the door was rather uneventful, all things considered, it was when they saw Long Haul standing outside the door that they started to get concerned.
"Evening everyone," He rumbled with a nod of his head "How're you doing?"
"... Hey Long Haul…." Velvet hesitated, wondering when it was decided that she was the unofficial spokeswoman/ambassador for anything Team Construction. Fortunately Long Haul picked up on her awkwardness and answered her unasked question.
"Mixmaster and Bonecrusher started fighting while trying to figure out where you get your hardlight dust (Again, another unasked question), Don't look at me like that, you know how rare that stuff is? It was all anyone would talk about for weeks in Kaon when a couple of miners discovered a small vein of the stuff." The behemoth of a student shook his head. "So those two knuckleheads started to argue over whether your family is rich. Then they started throwing punches and dragged Scrapper into their brawl, with Hook and Scavenger watching from the bathroom while I decided to keep watch out here."
"Oh…. Well I can honestly say that my family's not rich."
"Then where'd you get the dust?"
The group of seven turned to the door as Hook poked his head out of the doorway, eyes narrowed as the sounds of cartoonish violence erupted throughout the halls.
"Tell you what? How about we answer all of these questions over the alcohol you guys claim you can score? Because I'm getting really tired of waiting on you guys to get your collective act together." Coco shouted, cutting off anyone else's chances of continuing the current conversation.
Hook looked at Long Haul, then looked back inside the room for a minute, before both nodded their heads. "Give us two minutes."
Exactly two minutes later the six boys joined the rest of the other two teams in awkwardly standing in the hallway.
Once again Scrapper decided to break the ice with a simple "You guys look good."
"Bitch, I'm adorable." Coco shot back, "Now what's the name of this place you're dragging us to?"
Maccadam's Olde Malt Shoppe
The name of the restaurant was written in large neon lights above a simple corner diner on the outskirts of Downtown Vale. But much like many (all of them) buildings in Vale, its innocent appearance belied the vast amount of sin taking place within its walls.
He was watching from one of the alleys, the body of his latest victim laid at his feet as he waited for the group his benefactor had marked for death made their appearance. He would not make his judgment upon them now, not when there were so many witnesses, but he would begin to tease out their original sin, the one that started them down the path to being the Mad Wizard's latest pawns.
Ah, there they were… and they had brought some friends/accomplices with them…. He would ask his master upon their fate later, for while they may be sinners they could be redeemed….
J̶̛̟̜͓̀̍͆̈́̀̌̅̔̊͝u̸̩̫̰̘̍̓͊̈́̈́͛̇̉̑̂́͠͝s̷̡̛͓̺͓̗̼̖̼̀̿̃̌̉́͋́̚͜t̶͎̻͓̪̬͚̻̰͈͉̆̓̈́́ͅ ̴̧̧͉͈̱̟̣̞̃̄̋̒̚͝a̶̢̱̞͖̬̽͗̐̽̒͒͂́͘͝ş̴̰͖̯͛͗̆̓̀́̐̌̐͒̔̾ ̸͕̮̻͓͇̜̦̫͔̟͈̐̎h̵̡͕̜͍̔ē̸͓̦̩̟̗̯̤͓̤̟̟̯͈̯̂̍̂̎̌͐̈̐̉̈̕͝ ̴͍̻̱͖̥͙͎͉͍͇͚̾ḧ̴̛̦̙͖̲͍̼́̃̆̽̽̌͊̀̏̋͌͜͝ą̸̘̣͉͔̫͙̖̠̮̩͛̇̑̓̄̀̋͌͗͋̈́̋͜͝ḏ̸̗̙͙̗̻͍͈͉́̎̍̋̏̑ͅ ̸̢͖̝̉̀͂̈́̿̃̾̈̈́́͆͑͗b̷̠̺͖͇̜̥̬̹̖́̑͘e̷̙͒̄͌ͅě̵̗͍̀͊̉̚̚ņ̷̦̼̰̣̱̘̮̱̺͛̽̃̆̆͒̽̑̀̕ͅ ̴̳̤͉̗̼̭̊̌̾̇̍̈̽̍̋̂͋̍͝ẘ̶̧̬̯̼̈́̃̎̑͋̈́̋̌̚̕̚̚̕͜ͅh̸̨̰̲̝̻̳͍̳͈͔͍̺̟͇̄̑͆͛́͘͘͝e̵̛̻͍̰̾́̏̽̒ņ̶̖͓̟̥̟̟̓̉́̿̋̆̇͗͒͗̐̔ ̶̹̺͙̕s̴͇̿͐̒̐͂͆̀̏̋́̚̚h̵͕̹̼̹͈̯͉̆̈́̈̾͗̈́̿̐̏̕͘͝͝ͅͅe̶̛̖͓̜̥̱͐̐͐͆ ̸̣͎͒t̵͍̬͍̱͈̰͖͇͐o̵̡̢͇̞̲̳̱̠̦̹͊̋͒́̚͜o̷̗͉̤͈̞̦͖͓̻̲̅̾͑̈́̆̏̐͑̈́͋͝k̶̳̖͖̝̰̓̔̽̈́̍̅̃̀̚͝ ̶̭͕͓̒͑̔͝͝h̷̢̨̟͚̺̠̤͉͓͚̗̩̳̑̒̂̿̌̂̓̅́͆̚͠ͅi̴̧̧̞̩̻͇̻͊̄͋̋̈́̎͘͝͝s̵̛͎͙̲̄͐̈́̋̿̈́͂̎̀̅͂͠ ̷̱̲̙́̿̔̐͛̽͗̾̂̔̌͘̕ͅw̸̨̛̹͇͖̰̞̫͎̗͍̙̟̓̀͘r̸̟͚̗̔͛̐͂͛̽e̸̦͍̤̱͈̞͈͖̹̲͉̜̅̓͂ţ̸̠͙̖̜̇c̶̟̪͕̦̗̤̲̗̻͖̰͊̉͜͜͜͝h̵̛̺̾̔̎̆͑̊̓̚ĕ̵͈̣͎̖̼̟̰̯̃̀̀d̴̨̛̳̥̜̜͍͓̳̈͊͐̒́ ̸̻̯̬̉̿̇͊e̶̙̝̞͌̈́̈̄͐̾̈́́̀͌̈́̈̕̚ỳ̶̼̟͚̬̲̤̂̎͝e̴̡̧̘̻̣̥̥̘͕̟͉̦͗̅̈́͊͌̿̿͋͑́̈̽͝͝s̶̹̺̑͌̿͗̓̈̊͑͐̒͂͊̍̅…̶̧̛̛̝̲̝̰̰̻̻̉͑̀̽̕͝.̴̧̡͕̰͙̮̳̯̊̆͋̎͗̕
If you were to ask Velvet to describe the kind of place she believed would sell alcohol to underage adults (and wasn't that just a wonderful paradox?), she would've described a stereotypical dive bar frequented by various outlaw biker gangs, or maybe a speakeasy out of the Temperance Period.
Maccadam's was definitely neither of those two options.
The best way to describe the interior of the "Malt Shoppe" was if someone had mixed a Neon-Gothic diner with a Frontier Saloon.
The internal layout of the restaurant was focused around a circular bar area, where bottles of various alcohol's competed with soda fountains and soft serve ice-cream dispensers. Four televisions hung from the ceiling above the pseudo-shrine to liquid beverages, broadcasting the news, old cartoons, and whatever sports game was on at the moment. From there the floor plan seemed to devolved into a state of ordered chaos, there was a corner dedicated to pinball games, four pool tables spread throughout the restaurant, an old jukebox that was currently not playing any, and an honest to goodness piano being played by a large man wearing a vest and goggles. The walls were covered with neon signs and old posters ranging from sports teams to women in… suggestive positions. Waiters and waitresses moved between the tables on rollerblades, seemingly engaged in competition with each other over who could do the most outlandish stunts without spilling their trays.
It was a madhouse.
It was beautiful.
It reminded Yatsuhashi of when his extended family gathered to celebrate an auntie or a cousin's birthday. He couldn't stop staring at all the posters and decorations hanging from the walls, and was essentially running on autopilot to their rather large table.
Fox was the one who said what everyone was thinking "Alright, I'll admit this place sounds amazing, but how is this place ?"
Scrapper had a lopsided grin as he looked up from the menu. "I'm glad you asked! Apparently this place used to be a simple saloon, but when the Temperance Period reared its ugly head the owner converted it into a malt shoppe."
"In order to keep selling booze and avoid the eyes of the police, Old Maccadam mixed his various brews into homemade ice cream. The resultant "malt-shakes" became so popular he kept serving them even after the law was repealed."
"That explains why a glorified ice cream parlor sells booze, but you didn't answer why they serve it to minors." Gigawatt snarked as he looked at the rocky-road. "Do they do samples?"
"Old Macadam is really old." Mixmaster began as he kept sneaking glances at the unmanned bar, "He enlisted in the Valean Royal Army back during the war, and the story goes that he served alongside a girl who was no older than fifteen-" He suddenly made a mad dash for the center of the bar when he was certain no one was watching, leaving Hook to finish the story.
"-Therefore he decided that when the war was over and he opened this place, that he'd serve anyone fifteen years or older a drink, no matter what the law said." Hook then hailed down a waitress, "Especially if they happen to be hunters."
"So you guys brought us here to use our newfound statuses as huntsmen and huntresses to score liquor?" Coco muttered.
"No, I-we brought you all here because it's neutral territory and the drinks are reasonably priced." Bonecrusher shot back.
"Alright, we're getting off topic, we brought you guys here to ask some questions about us cause we were assholes to Velvet." Scrapper tilted his head towards the brunette, causing her to squirm in her seat. "The table is yours."
Velvet looked down at her list of questions, then back at Scrapper, and then back at the list, before settling in on the first question she truly wanted an answer to. "Your semblance…. Does it have any harmful side effects?"
That threw the five boys sitting at the table for a loop, and she thought she saw Mixmaster pause in his creation of whatever unholy concoction he was working on for a brief moment as he somehow seemed to have heard her (from what she knew of the six boys he probably did). They all let out a sigh as they spoke in unison?
"... Where do I even begin?"
Looks like I'm going to have to split this bad boy into two chapters, it's taking me too long to write this much as is. Once again I'm sorry for the delay, this chapter did not want to be written, then I got lost in school and Elden Ring (on that note does anyone have any advice for Stormveil Castle?). Tune in around May for the conclusion of this breather episode, before we dive into Soundwave's political and criminal (though this sentence seems redundant) machinations.