mainly came up with this because I'm also posting on Sufficient Velocity now and wanted to try out the voting system. Halfway through writing chapter two of the "to the dogs" story snippet.
* Start *
She was dying.
Dying on dry broken ground but at least the squad of ODSTs would be able to make it to the UNSC Kronstadt. They would live.
The gravity hammer had done too much damage. Even with the upgrades they had, the human frame could only take so much.
Huh. Everything went to dark. Well, this was kind of a rest anyway.
Wait. Why did the gravel suddenly feel cushiony and smooth?
"Do you want to go to the afterlife, or would you like to try and save humanity in another battle?"
She blinked, noting the lack of pain. Then, despite not being able to do so a moment ago, levered herself up to look around her.
Some sort of office, and she was lying on a couch?
"Who? What?"
The guy in a priest's vestments looked up before returning to writing something in a book. "Your armor isn't here, because you died. Normally, I'd just show you the way to the afterlife you had coming. You do have another option though."
"There's no such thing as an afterlife," she said.
"Cal-141. You died a warrior's death, accomplishing a mission in the manner of the Spartans," the guy finished jotting down something in the book with an old-fashioned quill then adjusted his glasses while looking at her. "Do you want mission details or go on to your afterlife?"
"Cal-141, Spartan II, UNSC Naval Special Warfare Command," began Cal before her voice suddenly stopped. Her mouth continued to make motions briefly before realizing she had been muted.
"Enough, Cal-141," said the odd man in the costume. "You died and have a choice. Go through that door and proceed onto the afterlife you've earned through deeds and actions in life."
There was abruptly a door on another one of the walls.
"Or you can choose a mission," said the man. "Go befriend a child on an Earth threatened from numerous sources, including threats from hostile aliens. The odds are against you and the others she might summon, but there is a chance."
Cal pointed at her throat, frowned, and tapped one foot impatiently.
"Oh, right," said the priest, making a gesture that left traces of light in the air.
"One two, okay," said Cal-141. "'Others'?"
"People who died and are given the same options," said the priest, turning his attention back to writing in his book.
"Anyone I know?" asked Cal-141.
"Naomi-010, Kai-125," said the priest. "Nicole-458. You know Kai was actually a rarity. I thought she was going to die of old age. Not many Spartans got to the point where that was even a possibility. Naomi almost got that far herself."
"Can I see them?" asked Cal-141, thinking that would prove all this was so much BS.
(FWASH!)
What quickly followed were recognition signs, countersigns, the exchanges of information that only someone in their special club would know, and five minutes of keeping an eye on the priest scribbling something in that book on his desk.
"What ARE you doing there?" asked Naomi-010 finally.
"Negotiating with a eldritch entity," said the priest. "Queen Administrator somehow found a way to access a hotline and began asking for data. Since it was able to access that hotline, I had to respond. Now we're negotiating."
"Negotiating what with what?" asked Kai-125. "Are you ever going to start making sense?"
The priest looked up again. "You could reject the chance to go back to an Earth, albeit one in the year 2009. Go ahead and enter Valhalla as warriors who have done great deeds. Once through that door, you can't come back. Strictly one way."
The three Spartans looked at each other. "Why us?"
"Because you were all warrior women who died in honor and battle," said the priest. "Taylor Hebert wants friends. She needs role models and confidantes and yes - someone to learn from. Queen Administrator is a power-granting semi-independent segment of a world-destroying entity that will eventually terminate all life on Taylor's Earth unless stopped. More details than that I am not at liberty to discuss."
"Why not?" asked Kai-125. "Assuming this crap about afterlives and other Earths is correct, doesn't that make you god?"
"No." The priest looked up again. "To use terms you are familiar with: that makes me the rough equivelant of a Corporal in charge of a minor side-office in a Supply Depot that hardly anyone ever uses. I'm also having this conversation with fifteen other potential candidates for the position as the negotiation looks to have Taylor Hebert gain the power of Hero Summoning."
There was a brief look at fifteen other identical offices with the same priest having conversations with a number of people and things and things that were also (somehow) people.
"Good grief, are you sure you're not the Lawyer Shard?" the priest asked the book. "Seriously, there's not a lot of leeway I've got here."
"You're arguing with a book and losing?" asked Kai-125 as they had gone back to a single room after a moment.
"I'm arguing with a non-human entity over three billion years old and the size of a large city on your homeworld," said the priest. "I've agreed to the armor, a personal vehicle to be delivered sometime within the first week of the mission, and four weapons each. That is as far as I am capable of going and I will simply close negotiations and walk away if you press. You can argue further with someone up MY chain of command and they'll have the option of glassing your planet."
"It's not a book? Because it looks like a... SHIT!"
No room anymore, they were standing on a crystalline cliff with pulsing organic-looking tubules, into which pulses of light flickered in odd directions.
"You guys are supposed to be the best of the best, soldiers without match. You're not impressing me," said the priest as he morphed into something with wings and way too many eyes. "Are you even capable of saving one little girl?"
"Providing that this is real, what benefits do we get out of it?" asked Naomi-010.
"Other than saving an Earth? What did you want?" asked the priest as office and worker assumed the same forms they had at the beginning of the conversation. "I don't have much leeway there either. Corporal in an undersupplied Supply Depot, remember?"
"So what's this 'Hero Summoning' thing?" asked Kai-125.
"A girl named Taylor Hebert is abandoned and friendless," said the priest. "Queen Administrator, the crystalline entity you saw just a minute ago, was waiting to give her bug control when she ran across a manga. Somehow she worked out the means to usurp a phone in Taylor's reality and call the Divine Intervention Operating System (DIOS) which didn't know how to handle it and routed it here. So now she's getting the power to summon Heroes from across the Multiverse. There's a few caveats, limitations, energy requirements, and to satisfy SOME people - there has to be a randomness factor."
"This is really weird," noted Naomi-010.
"You really have NO idea," said the priest. "I'm pretty sure that when my supervisors get around to noticing they will go into great detail of how badly I've screwed up here. So, best we get going on this."
"Ah. That part I can empathize with," admitted Nicole-458. "Superior officers ripping into you during the after-action. Way too familiar with THAT."
"Well, let's get on with it before the backlog gets to be too much," said the priest. "Time is fluid here, but only to so much of a degree. At my level restrictions at least."
* Simultaneously *
"So humanity needs defending," said Sister of Battle Eleanor. "Get to the important information."
"Tech level is early 2000s Earth, so a 2.7 on the technological assessment charts," said the priest.
"Not important," said Sister of Battle Freja, checking her pistol. "Where is targets?"
"Also, are available guys, not too scarred?" asked Sister of Battle Tatanya. At the other two rolling their eyes. "Cannot spend all time shooting. Need down-time too. Protect from Slaanesh effects by being well-rested and getting proper exercise."
* Also simultaneously *
"So, Admiral Taylor is fifteen? That's awfully young," said Destroyer Fletcher, despite her own apparent age.
"If she's young, she just needs training," offered the Battleship South Dakota, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "Everyone starts somewhere."
"We can do it!" stated Repair Ship Vestal.
* Also simultaneously to that *
"So, we are not summoned to a class?" asked Tomoe Gozen. "I would have my full skills as archer and sword-wielder?"
"Yes, that's right, though she'd have to specify a role in combat per the summoning rules you are more familiar with," said the priest. "So if you were summoned, you could then enter a fight as Saber or hold back and fight as Archer."
"As long as she doesn't have me go in as Berserker," offered Cu Cuchlainn. "Most of my problems in life were caused by that aspect of my life."
Hercules grunted, having a very similar mindset.
"That might not be so bad," mused Joan D'arc.
* And a completely different yet simultaneous instance *
"So there are no mutants there, but the danger there will threaten worlds where there ARE mutants?"
"Exactly," said the priest.
"I don't know, I'm taking a bit of a sabbatical as it is. I believe my associates here feel the same."
The priest nodded. "A long shot anyway. It's not like you're going to stay dead anyway."
"Precisely," said the Master of Magnetism.
"It's a pity though. There's a large Nazi organization bankrolling another large Nazi organization in this particular city. And several of their supervillains rely on metal shaping or emitting powers," said the priest.
Magneto blinked. "Perhaps you should have led with that."
* Meanwhile, there but not-there *
"We are the Adeptus Mechanicus, this talk of 'afterlife' and other worlds is clearly heresy."
"Then regard it as myself being an Agent of another realm faced with a common enemy, with temporal travel being involved and you having the chance to set the timeline correctly."
"Time travel always screws everything up."
"Not arguing THAT," agreed the priest.
"So. At least more knowledge will be available. We shall acquiesce for now."
* August 9, 2009 *
Taylor blinked, feeling Something change. Followed by a large elaborate coin appearing in one hand and a large Device appearing before her.
It looked kind of like one of those little machines you saw at Wally-Mart or a grocery store. Put a coin in this slot, turn the knob, and you got something random.
Except the machine was MUCH larger. It had a list of instructions in some language that didn't seem right, and the tank extended in ways that threatened to give her a headache.
That the slot for coins matched the size and thickness of the coin in her hand was duly noted by the thirteen year old.
"I can't read that," grumped Taylor, following the statement with a "hmph" and as cross an expression as she could manage.
The script changed to an "?" and then began rearranging itself into English lettering. Fancy sort of lettering too, one of those computer fonts like "Olde English" or something.
Which was neat, Taylor admitted to herself, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks before adjusting her glasses and reading.
One coin = One Friend.
Coins gained via Milestone Method (accomplishments in life, progression of story, achievements gained).
Friend obtained is randomly determined.
No Duplicate Pulls. If the same result, equipment for that Friend or a Variant Friend will be obtained.
Special Pulls will produce more than one Friend but they will be from the same Setting/Franchise/World.
No Substitutions, Exchanges, or Refunds. You can send one back, but there will be no Coin returned.
Additional rules pending.
Taylor shrugged a little and put the Coin in the slot, then (with some effort) turned the little knob.
(Clickety-CLUNK) went the Omniversal Gacha Machine as it produced a sphere the size of her head before fading away.
(KA-CHUNK! THREE STAR!)
"Is that good?" asked Taylor as the sphere turned pure white and then extended out into a female form. Then became three outlines.
The white outlines began filling in and colors shifted until the reveal was:
voting options:
A) Engine Sister (Adeptus Mechanicus) and two mechanical Assistants.
B) Three Sisters of Battle who fell in battle. Praise the Emperor and pass the ammunition!
C) Three Spartans, their armor arrives in a few hours, a vehicle will take a bit longer.
D) Magneto, Mystique, and Juggernaut. Will Brockton Bay survive?
E) Three heroes of legend and Fate.
F) Three Azure Lane shipgirls.
G) Some other friends.