Orion awoke with a thudding pain at the base of his skull. It blocked out all memories and any other thoughts for that split moment when he came to, it was so acute and distracting. The saiyan roughly rubbed the pounding before a coherent string of logic filtered through his mind. A gang of robots descended on him, he recalled, and he proceeded by making a mockery of their aiming, most probably computer guided too. Then he fell like a meteor into their centre, exploding a Shockwave and tossing them to the ground. That was the last thing he remembered ...
... and now he was in a carnival?
At the least, that's what he thought they were called. Saiyans didn't delight themselves with meaningless rides when they could zip around the skies at Mach 1 without the assistance of a rotating mechanism. He had a vague memory of encountering a human squadron years ago who talked about a bustling entertainment venue filled with rigged games, over-salted, deep fried foods and "rides", as he called them, that suddenly shocked the adrenaline loose from sudden bursts of speed, be they horizontal or vertical. It all sounded so pedestrian and foolhardy to Orion, but now here he was, watching the entire scenario unfold as he slowly raised and lowered.
Wait, where was he?
He came to his senses. Orion was strapped inside a small metal domicile big enough only for him and maybe a few other people. It was attached to a huge turning wheel that moved at a snail's pace. At it's peak it provided a fantastic tactical vantage point, but Orion was on the cycle down towards the ground. He had no idea what the purpose of this massive contraption was; perhaps it was a way to drown him? Was there an expanse of water waiting to asphyxiate him when he touched the bottom, halting movement until he sucked in naught but liquid?
"Hello, friend!"
"What the hell?!" Orion almost jumped out of his skin. Sitting right next to him, gone completely unnoticed until now, was a robot. The one eyed saiyan's instincts declared that it was a member of the team that hunted him down in Heaven and incapacitated him, but something was different. His body type didn't match that of a artificially constructed warrior; it was rather spindly and comical, with arms and legs designed out of proportion with the rest of its body. Its eyes were no longer red but a shade of calming blue, however a spongy fake nose that was situated on the centre of its face was. It had a permanent toothy grin painted on, and the teeth shone when it spoke. The rest of its get-up was equally absurd; Orion mused that the robot must have fallen into a clothing refuse bin. Rainbow suspenders? A bright orange bow-tie? What kind of fashion sense was this?
And the hairstyle! Two neon pink tufts of hair sprung from either side of its rectangular head like thick sprigs of strangely coloured parsley. A minuscule green hat with white polka dots sat redundantly on the top of his steel skull. It was so small it didn't even provide shade.
"Oh, no!" Orion exclaimed, becoming instantly edgy. "It's happened, hasn't it?!"
"What has happened, friend?"
"That ugly ogre! He worked out I wasn't supposed to be in Heaven! Then he sent his goon squad to knock me out and drag me down to Hell!"
The robot chuckled lightheartedly, its cheesy grin illuminating. "You're not in Hell, friend! Why, a person as handsome and fun as you would never burn for all eternity! Trust me, we're good friends!"
Was he doomed to wait out the end of time in a tiny steel room, enduring the excruciatingly inane chatter of a cheery automaton?
"Shit, this is some sort of ironic punishment, right?" Orion theorised. "Since I'm such a loner and I'm so harsh with people? Now I'm stuck with the most agreeable, asinine conversation for the remainder of time?"
"Why, don't be silly, friend!"
"And what's with this pathetic little shackle?" he continued to rage, pointing to the belt affixed over his waist. "Surely this can't hold me! Does something worse happen if I break free?"
"Oh, no! You don't want to take off your belt!" the clown robot warned pleasantly. "It keeps you safe and sound! If you take it off, you might fall out and hurt yourself!"
Orion sighed, exasperated. His hellish torment was only just beginning, too, he thought. The rest of time ...
"Friend, you seem a little tense!" the robot observed perkily. "Perhaps you'd like a ... balloon animal?"
The robot extended a cylindrical finger. Orion could hear a form of air compression taking place inside the robot, funneling air into a gradually inflating balloon. It grew longer and thicker until the clown machine ripped it free of its digit and began its work. Its arms flailed around in a whirlwind of movement, some of which Orion didn't keep track of. In a split second it was over and the robot displayed its creation in its open hand.
"It's a puppy!" it exclaimed sappily.
"Holy shit!" Orion roared. "All of eternity!"
"The puppy didn't cheer you up? Well, I have a sure-fire way of fixing your blues!" The entertainment droid leaned forward, revealing a small daffodil attached to its chest. "Smell this! You'll feel much better!"
"Oh no, you can't trick me, you sparking scrap heap!" the saiyan bellowed. "There's probably some sort of airborne toxin or nerve agent about to spray when I lean in, right?"
The robot tsked. "Still cranky, I see! Maybe we need to have a play fight!" A stream of clear, odourless fluid secreted from the fake flower and splashed right onto Orion's face.
He was mortified. What did he just squirt onto him? Some sort of infernal, searing water that would scar his skin and leave him scorched? Did it seep into his pores, converting his organs into liquid mush?
"Argh! I can't take this anymore!" Orion screamed. "I don't care what happens when I take off his belt, it's got to be better than being in a fucking prison with you!" He pointed an accusatory finger at his metal torturer.
"I'm sorry, friend! Some people don't appreciate my flower joke. Perhaps another balloon animal!"
An ear splitting crash resonated from the ferris wheel cart. The clown robot erupted from the metal wall like a bullet from a gun and slapped into the earth. A firm indentation of Orion's fist was evident on its cheek.
"How about ... a ... " the robot gurgled as it malfunctioned. Its voice cut off and blue lit eyes burned out.
Orion was quick to follow the ejected clown machine, leaping through the torn hull and shaking the earth as he landed. He gave the broken droid a spiteful glance, witnessing a line of oil trickling from its face. Good riddance.
"Attention, everyone," a voice abruptly boomed, although from where Orion couldn't fathom, "please refrain from damaging the carnival's property and staff. There will be severe penalties if this behaviour persists. Thank you." At the signing off of the announcement, a swarm of locust-like robots flew to the damaged ferris wheel unit, crawling over the hole and repairing it in moments before noisily buzzing away again.
Orion was perplexed. So he wasn't in Hell? Was he in a real carnival, then? He looked up; his halo was still occupying that place over his head, so he wasn't alive again. Was this another deal like Dante's Abyss? Did Damon set up another adrenaline pumping adventure for him? He relished the thought.
"Hello!"
Still reeling from his predicament, Orion spun about to a holographic emitter projecting an image of a female woman. Her long, brown hair hung over her shoulders and framed her beauty quite well, he thought. Donning a figure hugging navy suit, she smiled sweetly.
"An AI program?" Orion questioned.
"Got it in one!" she stated with strange excitement. "And you must be Orion!"
He nodded. "Did Damon Dukes make you?"
"Oh no, he's not associated with the Gamer at all," she informed. "It was on his show that we saw your amazing potential, however. That fight with Hollywood was rigged! We saw the whole thing!"
"Hmph," Orion groaned, trying not to think about his one sided loss. "So what is this place?"
"It's a carnival!" Mixie declared. "There will be some very exciting games coming up soon, the likes of which I'm sure a superpowered warrior such as yourself will love! For the meantime, though, why not enjoy the facilities provided to you here? You've already experienced the ferris wheel. You should try your hand at some of the sideshow games here! They'll help you warm up for the big events!"
Why not, he thought? Inducted into another mystery tournament by a shady individual, Orion realised that any length of time could pass before he heard anything authoritative on his position here. Besides, perhaps the games would at least be a challenge. He heard they were fixed, but maybe he could unfix them.
"If you say so," Orion returned, leaving Mixie to herself without a goodbye. When the artificial intelligence realised the saiyan's departure, she wished him luck and dissolved back into the holo-emitter.
The carnival was stacked to the brim with people. Humans, it seemed. Somehow, for some reason totally escaping him, they were all immensely enjoying themselves. Lovers walked hand in hand while sharing a wispy pink cloud on a stick. Children skipped merrily within the confines of their parents' sight. Hordes of teenagers stood uncomfortably in line just to procure a seat on a mechanical device that spun them around in ever faster circles. Humanity always baffled him.
His introspection was shattered when he caught the sound of a tinny ding. He looked to the source. A young human male, wearing a baseball cap backwards, operated a woefully pathetic rifle at one of the gaming stalls. As Orion approached, he watched the youth fire off small pellets at several rows of moving targets. Each line of rusted ducks and other crudely represented animals that humans frequently hunted slid independently of each other in a curious attempt to confuse the shooter. The effect was working for this teenager, who only managed to fell three ducks and a moose's antler.
"Better luck next time!" the robotic attendant encouraged. The male began to slink away in defeat, but on noticing Orion approach the booth, was suddenly captivated. His peculiar attire and eye patch hooked his attention, but what really interested him was when the mystery cyclops requested twenty bullets to play the game himself.
"Huh!" he scoffed churlishly. "I could only hit three of them, and a one eyed man thinks he can do better than that?"
"Silence, you little cretin," Orion seethed. "Let me show you how a real marksman operates." He signalled to the booth operator, lining his eye with the rifle's sights. "Begin the challenge."
As before, flimsy scaled replicas of earthling fauna strolled through on separate lanes, journeying in separate directions to confuse the shooter's aim. Orion's experience wouldn't allow his vision, even reduced as it was, to succumb to such paltry parlor tricks. The barrel of his rifle moved rigidly from side to side, aligning with the sloppily painted bullseyes before propelling a single slug into each pretend animal. The cap wearing teen stared on in astonishment as Orion picked off every last objective.
"Congratulations, sir!" the droid operator announced, handing the saiyan a stuffed bear half the height of him. "You are an excellent sharpshooter!"
Orion pushed the plush novelty into the youth's arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. "So you remember how easy it was for someone with a disability."
He strutted away, pleased with his victory over the human. A child, perhaps, but still a human. It dawned on him that opportunities such as that could be found almost anywhere in this section of the carnival. He took a swift survey of the plethora of games stations available to him. So many chances to prove his saiyan superiority.
Another human teenager was standing at a games booth, a female similar to his age cheering him on to win. A devious smirk formed on Orion's lips.
Perfect.
... and now he was in a carnival?
At the least, that's what he thought they were called. Saiyans didn't delight themselves with meaningless rides when they could zip around the skies at Mach 1 without the assistance of a rotating mechanism. He had a vague memory of encountering a human squadron years ago who talked about a bustling entertainment venue filled with rigged games, over-salted, deep fried foods and "rides", as he called them, that suddenly shocked the adrenaline loose from sudden bursts of speed, be they horizontal or vertical. It all sounded so pedestrian and foolhardy to Orion, but now here he was, watching the entire scenario unfold as he slowly raised and lowered.
Wait, where was he?
He came to his senses. Orion was strapped inside a small metal domicile big enough only for him and maybe a few other people. It was attached to a huge turning wheel that moved at a snail's pace. At it's peak it provided a fantastic tactical vantage point, but Orion was on the cycle down towards the ground. He had no idea what the purpose of this massive contraption was; perhaps it was a way to drown him? Was there an expanse of water waiting to asphyxiate him when he touched the bottom, halting movement until he sucked in naught but liquid?
"Hello, friend!"
"What the hell?!" Orion almost jumped out of his skin. Sitting right next to him, gone completely unnoticed until now, was a robot. The one eyed saiyan's instincts declared that it was a member of the team that hunted him down in Heaven and incapacitated him, but something was different. His body type didn't match that of a artificially constructed warrior; it was rather spindly and comical, with arms and legs designed out of proportion with the rest of its body. Its eyes were no longer red but a shade of calming blue, however a spongy fake nose that was situated on the centre of its face was. It had a permanent toothy grin painted on, and the teeth shone when it spoke. The rest of its get-up was equally absurd; Orion mused that the robot must have fallen into a clothing refuse bin. Rainbow suspenders? A bright orange bow-tie? What kind of fashion sense was this?
And the hairstyle! Two neon pink tufts of hair sprung from either side of its rectangular head like thick sprigs of strangely coloured parsley. A minuscule green hat with white polka dots sat redundantly on the top of his steel skull. It was so small it didn't even provide shade.
"Oh, no!" Orion exclaimed, becoming instantly edgy. "It's happened, hasn't it?!"
"What has happened, friend?"
"That ugly ogre! He worked out I wasn't supposed to be in Heaven! Then he sent his goon squad to knock me out and drag me down to Hell!"
The robot chuckled lightheartedly, its cheesy grin illuminating. "You're not in Hell, friend! Why, a person as handsome and fun as you would never burn for all eternity! Trust me, we're good friends!"
Was he doomed to wait out the end of time in a tiny steel room, enduring the excruciatingly inane chatter of a cheery automaton?
"Shit, this is some sort of ironic punishment, right?" Orion theorised. "Since I'm such a loner and I'm so harsh with people? Now I'm stuck with the most agreeable, asinine conversation for the remainder of time?"
"Why, don't be silly, friend!"
"And what's with this pathetic little shackle?" he continued to rage, pointing to the belt affixed over his waist. "Surely this can't hold me! Does something worse happen if I break free?"
"Oh, no! You don't want to take off your belt!" the clown robot warned pleasantly. "It keeps you safe and sound! If you take it off, you might fall out and hurt yourself!"
Orion sighed, exasperated. His hellish torment was only just beginning, too, he thought. The rest of time ...
"Friend, you seem a little tense!" the robot observed perkily. "Perhaps you'd like a ... balloon animal?"
The robot extended a cylindrical finger. Orion could hear a form of air compression taking place inside the robot, funneling air into a gradually inflating balloon. It grew longer and thicker until the clown machine ripped it free of its digit and began its work. Its arms flailed around in a whirlwind of movement, some of which Orion didn't keep track of. In a split second it was over and the robot displayed its creation in its open hand.
"It's a puppy!" it exclaimed sappily.
"Holy shit!" Orion roared. "All of eternity!"
"The puppy didn't cheer you up? Well, I have a sure-fire way of fixing your blues!" The entertainment droid leaned forward, revealing a small daffodil attached to its chest. "Smell this! You'll feel much better!"
"Oh no, you can't trick me, you sparking scrap heap!" the saiyan bellowed. "There's probably some sort of airborne toxin or nerve agent about to spray when I lean in, right?"
The robot tsked. "Still cranky, I see! Maybe we need to have a play fight!" A stream of clear, odourless fluid secreted from the fake flower and splashed right onto Orion's face.
He was mortified. What did he just squirt onto him? Some sort of infernal, searing water that would scar his skin and leave him scorched? Did it seep into his pores, converting his organs into liquid mush?
"Argh! I can't take this anymore!" Orion screamed. "I don't care what happens when I take off his belt, it's got to be better than being in a fucking prison with you!" He pointed an accusatory finger at his metal torturer.
"I'm sorry, friend! Some people don't appreciate my flower joke. Perhaps another balloon animal!"
An ear splitting crash resonated from the ferris wheel cart. The clown robot erupted from the metal wall like a bullet from a gun and slapped into the earth. A firm indentation of Orion's fist was evident on its cheek.
"How about ... a ... " the robot gurgled as it malfunctioned. Its voice cut off and blue lit eyes burned out.
Orion was quick to follow the ejected clown machine, leaping through the torn hull and shaking the earth as he landed. He gave the broken droid a spiteful glance, witnessing a line of oil trickling from its face. Good riddance.
"Attention, everyone," a voice abruptly boomed, although from where Orion couldn't fathom, "please refrain from damaging the carnival's property and staff. There will be severe penalties if this behaviour persists. Thank you." At the signing off of the announcement, a swarm of locust-like robots flew to the damaged ferris wheel unit, crawling over the hole and repairing it in moments before noisily buzzing away again.
Orion was perplexed. So he wasn't in Hell? Was he in a real carnival, then? He looked up; his halo was still occupying that place over his head, so he wasn't alive again. Was this another deal like Dante's Abyss? Did Damon set up another adrenaline pumping adventure for him? He relished the thought.
"Hello!"
Still reeling from his predicament, Orion spun about to a holographic emitter projecting an image of a female woman. Her long, brown hair hung over her shoulders and framed her beauty quite well, he thought. Donning a figure hugging navy suit, she smiled sweetly.
"An AI program?" Orion questioned.
"Got it in one!" she stated with strange excitement. "And you must be Orion!"
He nodded. "Did Damon Dukes make you?"
"Oh no, he's not associated with the Gamer at all," she informed. "It was on his show that we saw your amazing potential, however. That fight with Hollywood was rigged! We saw the whole thing!"
"Hmph," Orion groaned, trying not to think about his one sided loss. "So what is this place?"
"It's a carnival!" Mixie declared. "There will be some very exciting games coming up soon, the likes of which I'm sure a superpowered warrior such as yourself will love! For the meantime, though, why not enjoy the facilities provided to you here? You've already experienced the ferris wheel. You should try your hand at some of the sideshow games here! They'll help you warm up for the big events!"
Why not, he thought? Inducted into another mystery tournament by a shady individual, Orion realised that any length of time could pass before he heard anything authoritative on his position here. Besides, perhaps the games would at least be a challenge. He heard they were fixed, but maybe he could unfix them.
"If you say so," Orion returned, leaving Mixie to herself without a goodbye. When the artificial intelligence realised the saiyan's departure, she wished him luck and dissolved back into the holo-emitter.
The carnival was stacked to the brim with people. Humans, it seemed. Somehow, for some reason totally escaping him, they were all immensely enjoying themselves. Lovers walked hand in hand while sharing a wispy pink cloud on a stick. Children skipped merrily within the confines of their parents' sight. Hordes of teenagers stood uncomfortably in line just to procure a seat on a mechanical device that spun them around in ever faster circles. Humanity always baffled him.
His introspection was shattered when he caught the sound of a tinny ding. He looked to the source. A young human male, wearing a baseball cap backwards, operated a woefully pathetic rifle at one of the gaming stalls. As Orion approached, he watched the youth fire off small pellets at several rows of moving targets. Each line of rusted ducks and other crudely represented animals that humans frequently hunted slid independently of each other in a curious attempt to confuse the shooter. The effect was working for this teenager, who only managed to fell three ducks and a moose's antler.
"Better luck next time!" the robotic attendant encouraged. The male began to slink away in defeat, but on noticing Orion approach the booth, was suddenly captivated. His peculiar attire and eye patch hooked his attention, but what really interested him was when the mystery cyclops requested twenty bullets to play the game himself.
"Huh!" he scoffed churlishly. "I could only hit three of them, and a one eyed man thinks he can do better than that?"
"Silence, you little cretin," Orion seethed. "Let me show you how a real marksman operates." He signalled to the booth operator, lining his eye with the rifle's sights. "Begin the challenge."
As before, flimsy scaled replicas of earthling fauna strolled through on separate lanes, journeying in separate directions to confuse the shooter's aim. Orion's experience wouldn't allow his vision, even reduced as it was, to succumb to such paltry parlor tricks. The barrel of his rifle moved rigidly from side to side, aligning with the sloppily painted bullseyes before propelling a single slug into each pretend animal. The cap wearing teen stared on in astonishment as Orion picked off every last objective.
"Congratulations, sir!" the droid operator announced, handing the saiyan a stuffed bear half the height of him. "You are an excellent sharpshooter!"
Orion pushed the plush novelty into the youth's arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. "So you remember how easy it was for someone with a disability."
He strutted away, pleased with his victory over the human. A child, perhaps, but still a human. It dawned on him that opportunities such as that could be found almost anywhere in this section of the carnival. He took a swift survey of the plethora of games stations available to him. So many chances to prove his saiyan superiority.
Another human teenager was standing at a games booth, a female similar to his age cheering him on to win. A devious smirk formed on Orion's lips.
Perfect.
![[Image: OrionAug11.jpg]](http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b187/captain_civic/OrionAug11.jpg)