Agents of the Multiverse

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟

DATE: 05/25/???? - 8:00pm
LOCATION: Harbor, Hair of the Dog Pub
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟




Vile.

This place, and all the people in it- Vile.

The wretched stink of commonfolk, wet animal, rust- just a wash of unpleasant uncleanliness hung heavy in the air as the pub bustled with various different sorts of creatures. His eyes were locked on the table in front of him, desperately trying to block out any and ALL stimulus at the moment because-- God, it infuriated him. Being here. Suffering these fools and their errands.

It'd been a couple months of this. Living in a wretched hovel. Doing odd jobs for whoever would hire him. He was even somewhat known in the area.

How embarrassing is that? To be a familiar face in a sinkhole like this. Snake, they knew him by.

He kept his fists clenched atop the table. EVERYTHING in his posture screamed about not wanting to be here right now.

And that was true, actually. He was only here to collect on a job. It proved... somewhat convenient having a spot where one can easily start a ruckus and slip away. He hadn't had to pull any strings to START ruckuses yet, usually just getting caught in the middle of them. But.... still. The maneuver proved sound.

Minutes passed by. His posture never faltered. He eyed the door out of the corner of his vision.

Finally.

A man came in wearing a sinosauropteryx pelt around his neck, scanning the room before his eyes settled on 'Snake'. A yellow-toothed grin spread across the man's face, and he made his way over.

"If it isn't the hissing mercenary! Hahaha! Tssssssss!" the man boomed, though in a place like this that wasn't really an attention-grabber. It just mingled with the already too loud ambient noise in this godforsaken establishment. The Commander leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and hissed "Ssssergio. "

"Ohhh, don't be like that!" Sergio chuckled. The man's jovial attitude was insufferable. "You know what they say about a man who has no friends, don't you? No one to bat an eye when the raptors get him..."

"I'd choose my alliesss more carefully, Sssergio. A man you may call a friend isss jusst waiting for the day that you crumble."

"Oh, boo, you ARE a glass half empty fellow, aren't you?" the man chuckled far too lightheartedly. "Drinks?"

"No. I am here for my payment. Not to get myssself poisssoned."

"Aaaaa-bout that..."

The click of a pistol from under the table stopped Sergio in his tracks. The man pursed his lips into almost a pout, eyeing the Commander with a look of rebuke. "Pushy boys don't get their money from dead men."

"SssssSSssss-start explaining."

He slipped the laser pistol back into its holster under his coat, for now.

"Well, when we made our little agreement, I DID say there was a chance of quadrupeling your earnings. You're interested, no?"

An exasperated sigh escaped the Commander's lips, leaning forward and growling a "What do you want."

"Tourists- preferably. Any old sucker will do. 50 gold pieces a head. Triple that if they're an AOTM flunkie, hmhm."

"We're starting our own little show down at my place, oh you'd love it, real bloodsport."

"Ssssave it. I don't care to know what you need them for. Only whether you need them dead or alive."

"Well, ALIVE obviously! Not much SPORT in shaking a corpse around on a stick, hmm?"

"Where am I bringing them."

Sergio took out a crumpled piece of paper- one of the touristy maps of the market district. A spot was circled on it. "Bring them here, and my men will do the rest."

The Commander took the map, but then hissed "Do you really think I did the original job pro-bono? I should hope you have sssomething for me now. or elssse-"

"Or else what? You're already interested in this new deal." Sergio clucked, but did eventually relent and tossed a small bundle onto the table.

The Commander inspected it- counted his coins. ...Surprisingly, it was all there. 20 gold.

"Heheheh.... and here I thought you to be sssstringing me along, Sssergio. Alright. Deal."

So that was it? Paid for one job, hired for another? And this time it was just a simple escort-the-fools-to-the-spot? Well, coercing them may prove difficult, but if he was smart about it...

Sergio suddenly got up from his seat, giving a bow and bidding farewell. "I'll be generous and give you 2 days. Anytime earlier is perfectly fine, we'll be there. Just get them."

And then the man left, just as abruptly as he'd arrived.... Whatever. He had a task at hand. And a fairly simple one at that. Yeesss... he already had a recruitment plan brewing. Yes....

...

Among the many patrons of the Hair of the Dog Pub, one stood out from the rest. ...Or, well. He wouldn't look all that strange if he were in the Sanctuary, what with all the odd rift raff that stumble through blindly from other dimensions, but here? In the Harbor? The modern folds of tightly stitched clean clothing from the 21st century stuck out like a sore thumb. How did he even get down here? It seems almost like he's not sure himself, a vacant, lost look crossing his face as he wanders into the tavern. He wrings his hands around the strap of a duffel bag on his back worriedly.

"Mate, is now really the time to be looking for a drink...?" A British accent is barely heard above the bustle of the afternoon crowd, with a hint of exasperation in its tone. Strangely enough, the source of said voice doesn't appear to have anyone else with him, but is still dragging his feet toward the bar anyways, with an expression that can only be described as listless. He attempts to push back the dark curls over setting his eyes and gives a sigh as he approaches the bar tender.

"Hi, yeah. Um. Look, I know you're probably quite busy, it's just— this is the fifth place I've tried, you know? I'm trying to figure out how exactly I got here, I was on a moon before, you see, and. Well, nevermind that, it's not important. What is important is figuring out how I get back home!" He holds out a napkin, one he seems to have scribbled down something on. "Have you seen or heard any of the names here? Layla El-Faouly, Kannan Piaget, Matt Murdock?"

The lady looks irritated by this line of questioning. She doesn't look at his list for more than half a second before looking back down at the cup she's washing. "That's topside shit, sweetheart. You're barking up the wrong tree. Get those corporate agents to give you your indoctrination or something, yeah? I'm not gettin' paid to yap about your misfortune. You're stuck here now and you're not goin' home. Get used to it."

"...I thought that was exactly what you were getting paid for," The man frowns. "I know, God, I know it's something to do with some Sanctuary, but I have no idea how to get there! Could you at least give me some directions? Please? I promise, I won't bother you or anyone else here again about it, I just need an idea of where to go."

"Are you going to buy something or not? I already told you that it's not my job to help you sort your crap. Pay for something or go bother someone else for answers."

He looks uncertainly at his bag, and then back to the lady. "I...don't suppose you take pounds? An exchange rate, or something?"

She gives him a look of pure poison.

The man returns it with a rather put out look of his own. "...Right. Nevermind. Pity that I thought anyone around here had any manners, yeah? Egg on my face." He sighs loudly, before turning away from the counter and hugging his arms around his shoulders. Clearly, he had been at this for awhile, a sheen of sweat clinging to his tired frame. He shuffles over toward the wall of the pub, sinking down into a booth near the tall man in a trench coat, and unzipping his duffel. Inside, he manages to pull out some kind of packaging, which crinkles as he unwraps it. He manages to look very pathetic as he begins to chew on some type of pale fruit jelly cookie, holding himself close and staring off into the distance as his thoughts cloud his mind.

It seems he hasn't really noticed the seedy looking stranger and his dealings, but perhaps this Commander might have noticed him. He Does seem very recruitable, hm?

As he sat there considering whether to call it a night and start his hunt tomorrow, in walks a sucker practically SCREAMING 'Newfish'.

It's easy not to look like you're staring when you're wearing a mask the obfuscates your features entirely.... but he still tried to be subtle about it. He held his position at the table, leaning ever so slightly bar-ward to eavesdrop on this pathetic creature's tale of woe. Ah. Yes. Newfish indeed.

So, he had a mark. And an easy one at that. He just had to weigh whether or not to make a move tonight or not. Sergio had neglected to confirm or deny if this was a one-time deal, and so.... Greedily, he hoped he could get a couple more heads before turning over the goods.

...Gahh, but this guy was practically begging to be kidnapped. Surely if HE didn't do it, someone else would. Yes, he would not let this chance slip through his fingers.

So, casually, he got up from his seat and made his way over to the bar. Convinced the bartender to get a hot meal for the man, yes... a meal and a drink. Soften him up a bit.

With that arranged, he approached the booth his target had taken residence in, and slid into the open seat across from him.

"I hope you don't mind, but I couldn't help but overhear your conversssation with the bartender-" the Commander rasped, lacing his fingers together as he rest his arms atop the table amicably. His voice was rough, shrill- though he was trying his best to lace it with the sickly-sweet tidings of someone who actually cared about another's wellbeing.

"New to these partsss, eh? I hope you were not put-off by your firssst night here, the localsss are.... Well, we've all been through thiss sssong and dance before, I sssuppose ssome people have a short fuse for it by now."

He extended a gloved hand in offering, introducing himself. "They call me Sssnake around here. My firssst night wasss rather unpleasant, too."

The man is mumbling to himself as he chews on his cookie, just barely audible under his breath, when suddenly the seat across from him is no longer empty. He visibly stiffens, his eyes wide, but as the stranger speaks he seems to ease up just slightly. Not fully. Just enough.

He swallows what's left of the cookie before speaking. "New's a way to put it. I think...I've sort of done a bit of this dance myself, a little tango here and there, but. Last time it was a little more straight forward. There's so much here." He looks around the room as he says it, as if this is the first pub he's been in for awhile and the whole thing is somehow magical.

At the mention of the waiter, he cringes a little. "I don't mean to be rude, or anything, it's just all quite a lot? I'm sure no one's got much of an idea of how to return to their homes or they wouldn't all be standing around here, but I have to figure out where to stay, where to eat, talk to anyone who has an idea for how we're supposed to be getting by. I can't very well figure out to get back to my wife if I'm on the street starving in the middle of who knows what kinds of conditions!"

A pause settles in the air. The man runs his hand through his hair again in some sort of self soothing gesture, before he lets out something of a groan and hangs his head low. He only just barely catches the other holding out their hand at this point, and it takes him a moment of staring at the gesture before he hesitantly reaches back out to return it. His hands are sweaty as they cautiously shake the other.

"...I'm Steven. Steven Grant. I'm sorry, I'm sure you're just as sick of all of it, too. You said your first night, so that means you're from another dimension as well, right? How have you been getting by?"

Just as he finishes that last sentence, a man comes out from the kitchen with a tray, coming to a stop right by their table. He's already putting down plates, right in front of Steven— a bowl of some kind of stew and a glass of a foaming brown beverage. The waiter folds the tray under his arm and nonchalantly waves to the two as he starts walking away. "Here's your order, just holler for the ticket when you're done, yeah?"

Steven looks a bit dumbfounded, blinking away the savory smelling steam wafting in his face before turning to try to call after the server. "Uh, wait- this isn't- I didn't order anything?" ...And he was already gone. Good. Great.

At least, he thinks he didn't order anything. It's entirely possible that he didn't remember. He was a bit scatterbrained at times, for multiple reasons. But surely he wouldn't have ordered this. He didn't even know what money system they used here! He gives a sort of helpless look to Snake, as if trying to ask what he should do about the situation.

It's a very good thing the Commander wears gloves or else he probably would've recoiled at Steven's sweaty grasp and hurt relations very quickly. Yeahhhh.... He was still a bit off put though he was able to hide it well.

The almost helpless look he was given when the food got here irked him greatly- he wasn't going to put up some kind of fuss about the meal now, would he? The Commander stuffed down the welling-up rage as he calmly informed the man "You looked hungry, ssso I bought you sssomething to eat. If it'sss not to your liking, that isss fine, I am sssure we can find ssomething for you."

Every ounce of his tone was measured precisely, keeping a cool exterior while utter disdain boiled underneath.

"Now, as for your inquiry- Yesss, I come from another world. Though my arrival here wasss more.... pre-meditated than yoursss I'm sssure, I ssstill found mysself ill-prepared for where I ended up in. The creaturess here, feral or not, are mosst predatory in nature. I ssscraped by, there are ssome lodgingss around that accept labor in return for a room, and you can find work if you look hard enough.... But Sssanctuary iss where you most certainly want to go, yesss?"

"I hate to sssee others sstruggle, it'ss one of my fatal flaws perhapss, but- I've made it sssort of my.... unofficial duty to escort newfish to Sssanctuary. The journey is treacherouss alone, essspecially without a guide- and ssso I ssserve as one to the less fortunate than myssself."

"Of course, I don't do thisss for free- Sssanctuary doesss reward sssuch effortss- but ah, I don't do the work for the reward."

"I would be happy to ssserve as your guide, though we depart in a day or ssso. No worriesss about where to ssstay, I can pay for a room for you for tonight. I sssimply ask that you ssstick close... for your own sssafety. The people here, they ah..... well, they're dangerousss, to put it bluntly. And I do have a vesssted interesst in your wellbeing."

"Oh! Oh, that- that was very kind of you, actually? Really, you didn't have to do that!" No. Really. He didn't. Because Steven was fairly certain that smell was meat. What was worse, is it was a stew, which likely meant it had dairy products, which wasn't kosher. How did he explain to this gentleman that he was a vegan jewish man? Would there even be an equivalent from this universe? It would be so, so rude to refuse a meal that this traveller in a similar situation spent hard earned money on. At the very least the drink seemed to be some kind of root beer, or something, so he tried to look grateful as he took a sip, and ...okay, he had no idea what that was, which means he has no idea if he can drink it. Gaaah. He really did not want to piss off his only potential ally so far!

As the being continues to speak, Steven tries to look as though he's paying the utmost attention, though in reality he began internally trying to prod at the other feeling in his mind.

🏺 Marc! Marc, what am I supposed to do, here? I can't just not eat it!

🔪 Yes, you can. We shouldn't be taking food from strangers anyways, it's possible that it could have been poisoned. Just tell him that you're not interested and we can move on to the next place. Staying at some stranger's place is a horrible plan, we don't have any idea of the layout of this area yet or what dropped us here.

Steven can't help but make an outward chuff in disbelief, which he barely remembers to cover by pressing the drink to his lips. Really, sometimes it was like the people in his own head hardly had any manners.

🏺 That's ridiculous, you know that? It came from the kitchen! He hasn't even touched the food!

🔪 Do you think people aren't able to pay bartenders off to poison something? It's not hard.

🏺 Speaking from experience then, yeah? Look, mate, I know you're wanting to be cautious, but we aren't going to get anywhere if we just—

🚕

Steven's eyes widened at the voice, but he doesn't have long to ponder it before the world feels like it blurs at the edges and someone else is sitting in his place.

It's not obvious. Not to Snake. Nothing magical happens, no fancy transformation, but the man in front of him seems to slouch a bit more, a sense of ease coming to his shoulders. In fact, despite the clear discomfort over the meal that had so plainly been written on his face before, he's so unbothered now that he almost immediately scoops a spoon of the smoked mystery meat directly into his mouth.

There is a noise of disgust that comes from his thoughts that he completely ignores, instead twirling the spoon to point at the man across the table as he chews. He meets Snake's eyes properly for the first time in this entire conversation, swallowing the mouthful before speaking in a lower tone. "And what will you be doing in those days?" The voice is still thick with Steven's British accent, but the wording itself seems more firm and certain, like every word is calculated. "It must be a lot of money you're shelling out to keep multiple people off the streets."

🏺 ...I hate when you mimic me like that.

🔪 God. Don't tell me you're going to go along with this?

...This man was odd, he noted.

Very odd.

There was almost a look of dire panic at being served a meal on his face. Did he suspect poison? Not an unwise precaution, yes, but didn't seem like this guy was smart enough to have such suspicions.

And then he seemed to relax, almost immediately digging in once he'd done so. Odd. Very odd. It didn't sit... Right. But perhaps that was just lingering paranoia. His line of questioning immediately became more.... Suspicious, though.

Was this man an agent? Testing him, looking for shady dealings by offering himself up as bait? Gah!!! How could he be so foolish! OF COURSE!!!

....No, no. This was good. Yessss... Very good. Undoubtedly an agent wouldn't know what it was he was planning, and Sergio's men could handle it once he brought the guy there. Yes. No need to panic. Just be... More cautious.


This turmoil wasn't evident outwardly at all- probably had the mask to thank for that- instead, he calmly responded to 'Steven's question with "Gathering sssuppliess, looking out for more people hoping to travel to Sssanctuary. It'sss better to travel in groupsss. Disssuadess wildlife and thievesss alike."

He sat back in the booth, keeping an arm rested on the table but avoiding fidgeting lest he look nervous. "As I sssaid, it'sss a treacherouss journey. But paysss well enough to make a profit off the deal. You needn't worry about my fundsss."

He then chuckled- a sharp, coarse noise- before saying "Admittedly I don't shell out for five ssstar arrangementsss. But I'd hope that'sss fine with you. I can't guarantee you'll get far elsewheresss, paper money iss more of a joke than a currency around these partsss."

The man in the body at the table nods solemnly, as if expecting that kind of answer. He takes another bite of the stew absent mindedly, appearing to think it over. "Well, it's probably the best option— I've really got no clue what is going on around here, and any shelter is better than no shelter. If you're really offering, I'm willing to take it. But. If not paper money, what type of currency actually is used around here? Is this a kind of digital card thing, or..." He doubted he could get money his usual way. They might have cars around here, maybe, but hiring someone from an entire other dimension seemed unlikely, and he didn't know how forging documents would work here. Or...even what documents there might be to forge in the first place. That meant this would have to be a recon.

Steven nudged at him internally, like someone peering over another's shoulder to get a better look at what was happening.

🏺If we're going to be with others, how many? Maybe he's already picked up Kannan, or someone else here. Maybe Layla's here!

Maybe. That wasn't exactly something anyone wanted, especially since everything about this seemed...sketchy, but, it was a good point to check. Sighing, he scratches at the slight stubble on their face, then rolls his shoulders back a little.

"If you're already doing this regularly, maybe you've seen some others." He pulls out the napkin Steven had been showing to the bar tender, unfolding it and flattening it so that the readable direction is facing towards Snake. "Any of these names sound familiar? They've also been having some 'dimensional trouble', if you know what I mean."

The names are scrawled in slightly messy cursive, though at times it seems to straighten out into just normal letters. The names are as follows:
- Kannan Paiget
- Matthew Murdock
- Adaru
- Eurydice
- Big Bird
- Chalkbox
- Somna
- Volos
- Marcie
- Candidus
- Zariel
- Louis Patriarch
- Wrythe
The words trail off there, either due to lack of space or missing something.

The Commander snickered at the naivety that was thinking this place was in any way, shape, or form, civilized. "I'm afraid not. Thisss land tradesss in metal coinss- Sssanctuary doess as well, though you'll have an easier time finding work there. Copper, Ssssilver, Gold, Jade. If you happen to find a Jade coin... Jussst know it'ss worth well passst your weight in gold- assuming it'ss authentic."

"Beyond that, trade isss done in goodss. Useful itemsss. Paper isn't very useful, now isss it?"

He learned that one the hard way. He KNEW he should've brought some gold with him. But he had to pack light, and now it was biting him.

Whatever.... this job would afford him some creature comforts, and maybe a reputation boost. Sergio was insufferable, but he also liked to brag. Hopefully his name would come up in some higher circles.

He weighed his response carefully after Steven presented him with a laundry list of names, debating whether to hook the man further by lying about seeing one of them.... No, he couldn't very easily prove that. Better to tell him that, 'he'd work on it'.

"Mmmm.... I can't sssay any of these are familiar, but I'll put out my feelersss. It'ss possible your friendss here are out there sssomewhere."

Now he had a list of names to ask for, to find more suckers.

"It'sss also possible they ended up in Sssanctuary already, in which case- you can ask around there. I'm sssure people will be far more... helpful."