It was already too late for Iván when he realized he wasn’t helping his cause by rubbing the whipped cream off. In fact, he was only aggravating the problem, making it way worse. He could just take them off, he knew that to be true, but he really didn’t want to. Alpha might use that against him. What exactly that was, he couldn’t be sure. All he was certain of was that mystery was power and he was currently blind as a bat. "Wait, is that an owl? Do you have an owl? Are you going to throw an owl with an owl body for a head at me?" Iván did not appreciate the hooting. It was probably just Alpha by the sound of it, but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t trust his senses. Maybe he was using her illusion magic to confuse him further, weaken his resolve, beat him down mentally… Then again, she just made a pun. Iván groaned as a piece of him died. Did she just explain her own joke? Just desserts? Whipped cream? Sweet? To be fair, her name had Chocolate in it, so he shouldn’t be surprised. It was a long time coming. Alphabet continued her rant, which pretty much made Iván somewhat confident that she wouldn’t be attacking him anytime soon. At least not after she finished her monologue. People love talking, especially about themselves. He used to think only cartoon supervillains did that sort of thing but after everything he’s experienced in Terra Sphere? Everyone here had the makings of a cartoon supervillain, even a cartoon hero. Ora, ora, ora. Somewhere along the line, Iván lost interest in Alphabet’s speech. He was instead focused on getting the gunk off his eyes, resorting to using a portion of his sleeve. It wasn’t as helpful as he thought. He should’ve just used some water but he was currently out of any. The last time his container was filled to the brim was during that chaotic mission with traitors and insects and hooligans. Just another Tuesday night. He should’ve refilled it while he was staking out Alpha. "Down with what?" Iván couldn’t resist his curiosity anymore. Using a hand to obscure Alpha’s line of sight regarding his eyes, he took his goggles off. Somewhat. It was still technically close to his face, only adjusted to one side so he could see with just his eyes. He wished he hadn’t done that. "What the hell?" Multicolored potato things suddenly threw themselves at Iván like they were potatoes being hurled at a bad comedian. He could almost laugh, especially with their voice, but they were too many and he was too conscious about his face. It did not take long for the potatoes to overpower Iván, taking him down on the ground, his back against it, as he flailed around to get the strange creatures off of him. He was on the losing end of the somewhat hilarious battle. "Hey, what the hell are these things? Are these yours? Get them off of me! I’m blind right now, I can’t deal with these things with one hand!"
It was too late for Alpha by the time Ivan's words snapped her out of her monologue. The potato revolutionary army was already upon them and, within moments, managed to bring down the both of them. She was shocked, more confused than she had been a minute before with the sudden appearance of Ivan Carl's doppelgangers. It was only to be expected that she would go down without a fight and, by the time the thought of fighting back against these mysterious assailants popped into her mind, her hands were already tied back behind her as the little potato creatures picked her up off the floor and carried her up. A quick glance at Ivan showed he was faring better, not much, but he was still standing...wait, no. The man collapsed, flailing around in an attempt to overpower the numerous potato-enemies. She was about to laugh at the man's pressing situation before she promptly realized that she was in the same precarious position. That quickly quieted her until the blinded man began to accuse her of this. "What? I don't even know what's going on here!" if she had the freedom to use her hands, she would've gestured to the multitude of colorful potatoes in the militaristic platoon that was currently apprehending them. "Don't ask me!" Before she could say anything else, a high-pitched voice (slightly squeakier than the rest of its compatriots) spoke up. A tiny potato hand squished her lips together. It was a brief, meaningless struggle as she groaned, mumbled, and tried to twist her way out of her bind. "Mmmph mmm brphhh grrrr mrurur!" Alpha squealed, her face turning red in indignation as the potato looked at her in the eyes, taunting her. It spoke. "Ivan Carl and Alphabet Chocolate, designated Class-A fugitives of the Imperial State of Potato Salad. You have defied national law; although you have created us, you have no power over us. There is no way out of this other than your surrender and your subsequent execution. Cease and desist your resistance," the Commander Potato's voice was what a rat would sound like if it attempted to speak English and failed. "Due to being detained by the Imperial Forces, you will be granted a fair and just trial. You have the right to speak or remain silent. May the force be with you." At that last sentence, there was a cacophony of sounds that followed: "May the force be with you!" they saluted. She looked over at Ivan Carl to see how he was faring as of the moment. Hopefully the man would have a plan to get them out of this sticky situation. She squirmed her body, hoping to convey to him the urgency of the situation as they picked her up and began marching to what would be the Imperial Court System. @Iván Carl
Iván continued to fight, at least he tried to, but the sheer number of potato monstrosities that pinned him down and the fact that he was still pretty much blind got the best of him. In mere minutes, seconds even, he also found his hands tied behind him, the multicolored potato mob carrying him the way ants would in the presence of a giant potato chip. Iván did not appreciate being likened to a giant potato chip, especially a giant potato chip with whipped cream, but there was no arguing the fact that he was beaten by pre-French fried Skittles. “Who else would be responsible for this kind of weirdness?!” Iván yelled at Alpha, squirming uselessly like a useless Magikarp. This was not what he expected when he agreed to train under her. He knew Alpha would probably pull a few strange tricks under her sleeves. The weird, gross creatures, he expected from her insane mind. The colors, of course, because of the way she dressed. The whipped cream, okay, he should have expected that instead of a hard slap to the face. But the multicolored potato army? That was just too much. He was already blinded with whipped cream. He was beaten. She had beaten him. The potato army was not necessary. “What is that? What is that squeaky thing? Is that you, Alpha?” Iván called out, still blinded by the whipped cream. That’s when it dawned on him. Alpha was confused. In fact, she was just as confused as him. The muffled protest? That was probably her. Who else could it be? Unless Hector survived her murder attempt and was now trying to save him. But Imperial State of Potato Salad? Defying national law? Created but no power over them? Iván Carl and Alphabet Chocolate? Execution? It was starting to sound like Alpha had not intended for this to happen. If that were the case, then she messed up. Big time. “Wait, wait, wait!” Iván protested, fighting thoughts of mocking their potato overlords for the Star Wars reference with the Star Trek reference. He failed miserably. “Before you beam us up, Scotty, can I just ask what national law we defied?” It was probably something made up, something fake, something as real as these weird little things. He wondered if he could just un-make them then, break the illusion that was their existence. Did he even have enough power to do that? They were definitely Alpha’s creations, what with that reference, which means that his own mastery of illusion magic might not be enough to allow him to break her illusion. Of all the ways he could die, he was going to go down at the hands of salad. “Oh, and can someone help me get the gunk off of my goggles? At least toss a man into the salad with normal vision.”
The potatoes looked back and forth, speaking quickly in some sort of indecipherable chatter, before they conceded to Ivan's request. Alpha watched, with muffled laughter, as they used their tiny paws to attempt to wipe the grime off of Ivan's goggles, only for them to shriek in shrill fear as cream began to stick to their bodies. It was, frankly, adorable to watch the little creatures fret, roll around, and spin in circles out of terror from the mysterious substance that they had never before seen in their one to two minute lifespan. "Muurrfff mmmbllee mrrrrk!" As the goggles were finally clean enough (at the expense of the mental health of a dozen casualties that'll no undoubtedly be labeled as heroes who had fought in a particularly vicious and brutal battle), the Commander-General turned to face the pair with disdain. "You know what you did, scum!" the potato's caricature-like facial features began to twist into a repulsed glare. "You're lucky that you were not gagged like your accomplice!" he jabbed his thumb (?) over to Alpha's direction, much to her displeasure. "Mrrbbleeee murrrghhhh!" Alpha cursed, eyebrows furrowed. How dare he call her a mere accomplice?! She deserved to be a mastermind, at the very least, for a crime she had no remembrance of committing...and it better be a damn good crime, too. "Your very existence warrants a punishment befitting of a capital crime at this point, scum," the potato sounded very passionate as tears began to flit on the edges of his eyelashes. He looked up towards the sky and clouds (when did they change color?) and, with a dramatic breath, began his monologue. "I was once a regular potato in a potato field before you came. You humans...all of us used to be happy potatoes who only dreamed of being turned into potato salad and mashed potatoes!" Alpha grimaced. Were these guys a race of masochists? "...And then it happened. Before our very eyes was a television set; brand new, a Samsung LED 2017 model with Smart TV functions and a remote that could be used meters away! It was glorious and we enjoyed binging on Netflix...Orange is the New Black, Game of Thrones, we watched it all! Mainstream television was our life...until we watched one of Sir James Cameron's movies!" At the mention of the film director's names, all the potatoes lifted one hand up to a salute. Unfortunately, that description included the potatoes that were currently carrying Alpha. She toppled over to the ground, her face buried in dirt and pebbles that were currently obscured by the illusion, and groaned. "Mffle!" she shouted. "To Sir James Cameron!" came the chorus of voices in response. Tears began to freely slide down the Commander-General's cheek as he continued his tale. "Titanic was a beautiful piece of artwork; something we are all dearly enamored with...until the ending, of course. Rose was on the door in the middle of the frosty sea! It was a large door, certainly big enough for Jack to hop on! THERE WAS ROOM FOR THE TWO OF THEM!" his words began to grow into a loud, booming cry. He hiccuped, wiping the snot trailing down his non-existent nose. The rest of the potato army followed suit, each of them at varying stages of distress. He steeled his eyes and his fists tightened, his knuckles turning a purple color. "Their love story should've went on! Jack should have survived with Rose; they were made for each other! But nooo, your pitiful human director failed to acknowledge true love and, because of that, so many of us potato-people were disillusioned! Children, women, and men with broken hearts that can never be healed! Your crimes against potato-kind has led so many of us to a spiral of depression that cannot be cured due to this tragic tale!" Alpha stared as the Commander-General potato buried his head into his open palms. "Well, it's of no consequence now," his voice was dark and bitter. "We have arrived the Imperial Court System Courthouse!" he announced. "Imperial Court System Courthouse!" trailed a thousand voices after him. As the potatoes carried Alpha inside the grand chamber that very loosely resembled the United States Senate building, she tossed Ivan a desperate, pleading look that said please save us from these crazies. "Murble mpfhgh," she cried until she was dropped off into a courtroom. As the potatoes unbound and ungagged her and Ivan, she jumped to the man's side. "Gah, did you take any government classes in high school?" Alpha asked, eyes wide at the Jury of Tomatoes and the Honorable Judge of Cheese. She gulped. "What is your defense?!" the Honorable Judge of Cheese's voice boomed as the army of potatoes slowly exited the building, slamming the door shut behind them. @Iván Carl
“Thank you,” Iván mumbled, heaving a sigh of relief after regaining his eyesight, before realizing he was still tied up and at the mercy of the delicious but yet-to-be mashed army of colors. “I mean, no, you don’t get a thanks…” That’s when a light bulb appeared over his head, lighting up, as light bulbs tend to do. His brilliance has come to save him! Iván grinned, under his hood, and narrowed his eyes, under his goggles. These stupid creatures are going to be no match for his genius. “But you will if you help untie me.” Some of the potato things looked at each other before scrambling to help Iván. They were under the impression that whoever freed him first, will be the only one to get his gratitude. It was mashed mass hysteria. It was, until what seemed to be their leader pushed its way through the stupider potatoes and into Iván’s face. It was yelling at him, furiously, calling him scum and Alpha his accomplice. If anything, he was the accomplice, though to be fair, between himself and Alpha, only one of them did look like they were up to something. The other one looked like a kid. A capital crime? What the hell was happening? What the hell happened? And how the hell is Iván not laughing at the potato leader’s face? Oh, right. The monologue. The long-winded exposition. Why do villains always do this? Is this part of their checklist? Is this villain etiquette? Then again, heroes always do certain things, too. Like that jumping off from great heights and landing a specific way thing. Or that inspiring motivational speech thing before they die. Or pink hair. Iván almost zoned out of the potato king’s speech but the mention of Netflix snapped him back to virtual reality. What was he going to watch later? A cooking show? A cooking competition? Which one? There was a bazillion cooking-related things on Netflix at the moment. He was watching at least 10. Iván narrowed his eyes for the nth time at the potato leader. He wondered how he would taste like with gravy. “Ow!” Iván muttered dryly as the potatoes that were carrying him dropped him so they could do a weird salute at James Cameron’s name. The guy who did Avatar? Titanic! Of course. Iván totally remembered that movie. Totally. Wait, when did they get to the Imperial Court System Courthouse? How was Iván remembering its full name? None of that mattered then as he was grabbed once again and tossed, along with Alpha, inside the strange building. They were finally let go, well, they were untied and Alpha was unbound---hooray…---but they were still technically under the mercy of these things. “Is that cheese? Are those tomatoes?” Iván shrugged at Alpha and then turned to the cheese, “Uhh, we’re not James Cameron? I’m not even sure he’s still alive. To be honest, I’ve never really seen Titanic. I heard there were boobs and people dying but I never actually saw the movie.” The cheese did not seem amused. Iván just shrugged at it. He was starting to feel hungry.
Alpha stared up at Ivan's head and wondered if the man noticed it. While The Most Honorable Cheese looked unamused at the man's vapid commentary, and the Jury of Tomatoes seemed equally unimpressed, Alpha couldn't help but stare. Sure, her life was supposed to be flashing before her very eyes as it often does in any film involving a courtroom, but so far she felt everything paled in comparison to the beautiful light-bulb that adorned Ivan's top. That tungsten ligament! Dat bulb base! Perfection! "Ivan?" Alpha murmured hesitantly, refraining herself from going on her tippy-toes and swiping that light for herself. Despite its appearance being identical to any other lightbulb one would find produced in a reasonably developed country, there was something about it that tickled her fancy and, judging by the various states of confusion among the crowd once they finally took a notice of it (how did they not notice it before?! It's literally glowing!), the court was seemingly enamored by its beauty as well. It is said in legends that Prometheus, a titan of forethought, had stolen fire from the Gods and gifted it to humanity for the people to flourish, thrive, and evolve. It started the creation of tools, society, and KFC restaurants. It was what allowed humanity to properly think outside of their barbaric tones back when they were merely neanderthals whose idea of having a good time consisted of reading and reciting poetry. Alpha is glad they weren't neanderthals anymore; consuming a copious amount of literature and poetry would be a hellish existence for her. She was glad that they developed into the Netflix-binging, social media obsessed people they were today. Without that, she would be stuck in a world without Spooky Scary Skeletons running on repeat on her computer screen for the past three weeks (she'll never get tired of it). But back to story... Well, how does that Prometheus story even relate to the topic at hand? In what why did fire and light come to play in a courtroom discussion? Simple. You see, humanity has been awfully fascinated by very bright lights for a very long time. That's why people go blind: they like the sun so much that they keep staring into it before they lost their vision completely. Considering the fact that these creations were the unconscious result of Alphabet Chocolate's rampant, imaginative mind, it would stand to reason that they would reflect the very basic fundamentals of humanity and Alphabet Chocolate in general. And that was a very strong desire for sparkly, shiny objects. The entire courtroom devolved into a maelstrom of greed as the Judge, eyes wide with greed and disbelief, opened his mouth. "My lord! That is a 75-wattage, incandescent, A19, E26 medium base, 580 lumens, 130 voltage frosted rough service bulb! An average shelf life of 5000 hours! A delectable 2.38 inch diameter!" the cheese licked its lips, a string of drool running down its chin. And everything descended into chaos. Alpha stared straight into Ivan Carl's face that was completely hidden by a number of miscellaneous items. She stared, barely resisting the urge to grab the bulb itself as the tomatoes went into a frenzy, pushing each other over in a deadly imitation of La Tomatina as Alpha edged herself further to Ivan. As she grew closer, a yearning clear in her eyes for that beautiful lightbulb that countless tomatoes were dying over, she heard a beeping. Beep...beep...beep... She stilled. And, very suddenly, she moved. "It's a bomb!" she shouted, eyes wide as she climbed Ivan as if the man was the Eiffel Tower and she was King Kong. Quickly, she unscrewed the bulb from its floating position atop Ivan's head and, with a second to spare, she hurled it straight at the Judge. The block of cheese unknowingly stretched its arms out in delight as it attempted to embrace the flying bulb before, finally, it exploded. Had you ever cooked macaroni and cheese in the microwave for a minute longer than you should? Well, think of that. Alpha licked her lips, tasting the cheesy taste of American Cheddar that had splattered across the room. "Yum!" She looked around at the messy scene of smashed tomatoes mixed in with a blanket of melted cheese. She turned to Ivan as she began to consume her cheese-covered fingers. "So what now?" @Iván Carl (the world is pretty much yours too! feel free to control the dead cheeses and tomatoes! make a sudden entrance from a cabbage ridding a motorcycle singing Coldplays 'viva la vida' who'll take us to a revolutionary base! get a giant meteor to hit the earth at this precise moment! have a barber shop quartet appear and serenade us! do whatever you want!)
“What?” Iván turned to Alpha but noticed she was staring at his head. Or was it something on his head. He didn’t feel anything new up there but he didn’t want to take the risk. He put both hands over his head, searched for what it was that caught Alpha’s attention, and felt something warm and hard. A light bulb? “What!” Iván took a step back when the cheese thing started to look like it was hungry for the light bulb. Now there’s a thought Iván had never imagined he’d come across with. At least not while he was awake and sober. He was awake and sober, wasn’t he? He turned to Alpha, narrowing his eyes under his goggles, his hands still on the light bulb. “Are you harvesting my organs right now?” The jury of tomatoes didn’t seem content with just witnessing Iván’s light bulb head. Soon, they were trying to get to it. All of them. It was chaos. But despite that chaos, Iván felt Alpha get closer to him. Physically, of course. Anything else would be weird. He wasn’t losing sight of this weirdo. For all he knew, this was her dream and she had just lost control of it. Tomatoes and cheese and potatoes… Was she hungry? “What?!” Iván didn’t have a lot of time to react to Alpha’s accusations. As soon as she said the b-word, she climbed on top of him, but not in the way a perv reading this would think. Alpha fought off his hold of the light bulb on his head before throwing it straight at the cheese. The cheese exploded, which meant Alpha was right about the light bulb being a bomb and stuff, but the explosion didn’t only splatter the room. Both Iván and Alpha were covered head to toe with the sticky remains. He stared at Alpha in disgust when she started licking her cheesy fingers. That was a talking thing just seconds earlier. “I don’t know,” Iván tried to get the cheese guts off of him but to no avail. Everything was sticky, but not in a fun way. “This is your weird dream. Wake up?” Just then, sirens started blaring. The main doors swung open and a tiny police car, more resembling a clown car made to look like a police car, drove right in. It had a snow shovel thingy mounted in front of its hood, allowing it to push back the cheese and tomatoes salsa of death. Iván stared at it, scowling. What now? The police clown car snow shovel made sure to clear most of the gross aftermath of a bomb explosion in front of Alpha and Iván, pushing it all to one side of the room, which now looked like a weird nacho fountain of sorts but without the forever flowing cheese. It was like what would happen if you smashed a pot of cheese fondue against the wall, except it was the wall. A fondue wall. A wall of fondue. Iván was just about to walk out of the room when he heard a familiar voice. “And where do you think you’re going, dear husband?” Iván turned around to find someone coming out of the police car, someone he knew, “What the hell? Portia? Husband? What?” “Language!” The girl with the white hair yelled at him before slapping him really hard. With one hand on his bruised face, Iván just stared at one of the very first Players he’d met in the game, if not THE first. They had even fought beside each other once. Well, not beside beside. He was too far away from the monster while Portia was punching it in the face. He was a magic-user, after all. None of that tedious physical baloney. That’s how you spell baloney, right? “What are you doing here? How did you get here?” Iván couldn’t believe his eyes. Portia was here. Or was she? Maybe this was still part of Alpha’s weird dream sequence. Wait, Alpha knows Portia? Oh, crap. This is bad. This is really bad. “What do you mean what am I doing here? My husband goes missing and you didn't think I wouldn’t come looking for you?!” She slapped him again. Harder. “Husband?” Iván asked, dryly. Nope, this was most definitely not Portia. What the hell was this thing? He turned to Alpha, sighing. “Portia isn’t my wife. I’m not her husband. You should wake up now. I can’t take any more of your weird fan fic...” Before he could finish his train of thought, the doors closed. Loudly. Iván turned to Portia who seemed just as confused as him. He turned to Alpha again. She, too, seemed uncertain of what had happened. Portia’s police car suddenly started creaking, moving, chugging like a train. Iván walked towards it but kept a safe distance. “Is someone else in there?” He frowned at his worried wife. No, wait, not wife. Not wife. They were not together. This experience was really taking its toll on his brain. Portia shook her head at him, frantically, eyes wide, before grabbing his arm tightly, “Save me, my beloved.” Iván scowled and pushed her off of him, “I have no idea who you are, what you are, but you’re most definitely not Portia. She’d choose to kick me in the face rather than ask me to save her. She’d even be the one to do the saving.” He took another step towards the car, and another, before its door unexpectedly swung open and a stick came flying at Iván, hitting him square in the face. He screamed an obscenity, perhaps more out of surprise than pain. The car had stopped making any sound, doing anything. “Crap.” The car suddenly melted to the floor, and it kept melting like there was no tomorrow. From its blue and white decal, it turned into some sort of brown liquid, and it was quick to spread into the room, reaching their ankles in a matter of seconds. The smell was familiar to Iván. Closing his eyes, he used his nose to remember what it was. The odor was strong, pungent, turmeric-y… Curry? “Is this curry?” Iván turned to Alpha and then to Portia who, after shrugging at him, grinned and melted into curry as well. “Double crap. I can’t believe I’m going to drown in curry, and not in a fun way.”
If Alpha was being entirely honest with herself, she would admit that she found Ivan to be one of those cool inspirational figures. One of those guys you'd trust with your finances and tax forms, you know? He was stoic, he was calm, and he was cooler than a refrigerator in the winter. In fact, that's Alpha's entire perspective on Ivan's image since the moment they met to the present right now---all before she found out about his secret wife, of course. Thing is, Alpha never contemplated marriage as anything more than 'two grumpy old people living in the same house and doing gross kissing at the most inexplicable moments'. Seeing Ivan in one of those unproductive, disgusting marriages? It was as if a young girl found out that Santa Claus was married to the Tooth Fairy. She struggled to keep the bile threatening to climb out of her throat down. "Uh, I was one-hundred percent sure I was awake up till now. I mean, it didn't seem like a dream? But, like, I guess it's possible?" she grimaced, looking at the shapely woman who had exited out of a cop car. She had never met this woman before in her life but it was awfully strange seeing someone you actually know in a romantic relationship with someone else. Maybe she should give up her plans in getting Roland a suitable bride if this sickening soap opera-esque scene would be the new norm. She shivered, imagining Roland being carried bridal-style in a marriage gown by one Kingoda Hyunivas. And then something hit her. It wasn't a physical object that could be thrown but, with how she was out of breath and stung, it might as well be. She didn't know who this Portia was and, with Ivan's earlier accusation, everything began to mesh up and pull together. Ah. This was what an existential crisis felt like. "Oh. My. God," her eyes were wide like saucers, staring at the pair. "I-I have no idea who she is...? So...if you know her and this is a dream..." she looked down at her hands unblinkingly, as if she feared that, if she looked away, her limbs would fade away and she'd end up blowing up into a spray of melted cheese like the formerly Honorable Judge. "What if it's your dream?!" Alpha began to hyperventilate. "What if robots have integrated us into the Matrix and they're feeding off of you and I'm just this fake creation that's supposed to be trapping you here like how those glue mouse traps make sure mice can't move?! WHAT IF I'M A MOUSE TRAP?! If this dream ends, do I end up becoming a mouse trap? Am i currently living in a package and only given sentience in this dream? Is that my real form? Am I destined to catch mice for the rest of my non-existent life?!" She collapsed into a tight ball, her head buried into her knees as her arms curled around her legs. She rocked back in forth in a manner that one would see in a Hollywood film interpretation of a mental asylum. Her thoughts were in chaos and, by the time she snapped out of her imposed mental breakdown (finally sorting out that even if she was a mouse trap, she could simply find a fairy godmother like Pinocchio did and become real if she so wished), the area was filled with curry. She scooped some of the substance off the ground (that used to be Portia) and licked it. Yum. She got up, wiping the curry off her clothes, and stared back at Ivan (great, now she couldn't get the image of Ivan in a dress out of her mind). "Soooo," she drawled, taking a brief glance around. "Uh, congratulations on your marriage. Did she, uh, ditch you?" she took another look around. "Don't worry, they always come back," Alpha reached up to give Ivan a comforting pat on the back. She scooped up another handful of curry (another remnant of Portia) and offered it to him. "Here, have some random brown stuff I found on the floor! The best way to heal the heart is through probably-edible-food!" There was an awkward, tense moment. She scratched her head sheepishly. "Hah! Let's forget the previous five minutes ever happened, bud! Relationships are weird, you know? Let's pretend that I---we---were never traumatized by these terrifying experience and live the rest of our lives in denial!" She flashed him a brilliant, gleaming grin. The curry began to move. She stood still, oblivious, facing Ivan. Behind her, the curry began to squish together and melt into an assorted blend of colors. She extended an arm of solidarity over to her recently-single student-friend. The curry monstrosity was beginning to form a humanoid head. "HELLO!" a voice boomed. "W-what?!" the sudden appearance of a giant curry humanoid head that vaguely resembled Morgan Freeman was not something Alpha had planned in her bucket list. In fact, it was something that she never had imagined to be feasibly possible (a strawberry jam impersonation of Morgan Freeman was probable and likely; a curry version was not). Startled, Alpha jumped by Ivan's side and latched onto his arm like a vice, eyes wide. Perhaps it was her weight that allowed her to hang from his arm like a koala or maybe it was because of Ivan's surprising physical strength or, just maybe, it was because the deities of Terrasphere decided that Koalalpha was a thing. Regardless of what made it possible, the single truth remained: Alpha was currently hanging onto Ivan like a koala hanging from a tree trunk or a panda hanging onto a piece of bamboo. Morgan Freeman, the Curry-Version, spoke once more in a gruff voice. "HELLO, MORTALS! I AM HERE TO ANSWER ONE QUESTION! THE MEANING OF LIFE? HOW TO WIN PORTIA AHRENS' HEART? I KNOW IT ALL. ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE." Alpha blinked. @Iván Carl
"Uh, what?" was all Iván could muster at Alpha. To be fair, it was possible to think you're awake while you're actually asleep, dreaming. But was that actually possible in this game? And isn't Alphabet Chocolate too great of an illusionist to not know the difference between reality and dreams? Oh, no. What if all great illusionists actually end up like this, like her, unable to know the difference between what's real and what isn't? Maybe all that time spent in mastering their craft, their illusions, have rendered their perception of reality wonky. Iván stared at Alpha, narrowing his eyes under his goggles. That would actually explain a lot. Then she hit him with a very good question. "Wait, my dream?" It was possible. There was this one show that Eli used to watch, and in one episode, the bad guy tried to trap the good guy in some sort of mind illusion but the good guy's fragile emotional state beat the bad guy's illusion and ended up almost killing them both. Wait, that was Young Justice, wasn't it? The show about teen superheroes learning to be a team? If he remembered correctly, that was actually Miss Martian playing the role of the aforementioned good guy and Martian Manhunter who wasn't actually a bad guy but put the group of teen superheroes in a mental training exercise for...something. Was Alphabet Chocolate Iván's Martian Manhunter? Then that would make Iván Miss Martian. Oh, no. The Matrix part was probably too much, though. Or was it? Iván grimaced when Alpha started eating Curry!Portia. That was someone I know... It wasn't. It was an illusion, a product of his weird mind, or someone else's weird mind, Alpha's weird mind? Everything was more confusing than he ever. He never thought this could happen to him, go in confused, only to get more confused. People usually end up enlightened after being confused, not more confused. Why was Portia here, anyway? Curry Portia... Alpha didn't know her. It was Iván who did. Maybe this was really his dream after all. "Alpha, stop eating that," he remarked dryly, ignoring her statements about marriages and relationships. "That could be poisoned, you know." And then all the curry turned into Morgan Freeman. This was a really weird day. "I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH PORTIA OKAY" Iván screamed at Curry!Morgan Freeman while Alpha dangled on one of his arms. Everyone grew quiet, including the curry monstrosity in front of the two illusionists. It took Iván a couple of seconds, and after practicing his breathing to keep himself calm once more, he jumped right into his brilliant idea. Whatever was happening, they had something before them right now that could very well explain things. The thing did say it knows all. "The only thing I want to know right now is how do we get out of all this weird crap and get back to boring, old, normal Terra Sphere?"
"SHE WOULD BE THE KID FLASH, NOT THE MARTIAN MANHUNTER," the voice of Martin Freeman boomed. Alpha was, at that point, completely confused. She took a look around to find whatever could've sparked that odd answer but, to her dismay, there was no one else around but her, Ivan, the floating head of Morgan Freeman, and a sea of delicious curry. Was the giant Face of Boe delusional? She paled. Did having all the knowledge of the world at one's fingertips reduce one to a blubbering wreck with an admittedly handsome voice? Was he something like Agnes Nutter? Or maybe like a post-speedforce Barry from the CW tv show? Was he currently holding multiple conversations at the same instance across space-time? Was he talking to a future, elderly ivan Carl and Alphabet Chocolate who, fifty years stuck in this place, had come back to ask about DC comic superheroes? She shook her head. No bad thoughts, Alpha, she reminded herself. Unfortunately, her body disagreed with her and, as scary thoughts began to crowd her brain, her body began to spasm and bathe itself in the brown elixir of spiced curry. Words began to spill out of her mouth as her eyes were open wide, glazed as she was unable to properly process or comprehend the images and revelations that popped into her mind. What if this was the true reality? What if Terrasphere and real life was actually a phantasmagoria? What if Ivan Carl wasn't actually married to that clingy lady?! The last thought was what terrified her the most. Could a universal truth like Ivan Carl's attraction and love for that mysterious woman be false? If so, then what other universal truths aren't real? Was Bill Nye not a science guy? Was Shia LaBeouf not an actual cannibal? "Reality's an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold!" Alpha shouted incomprehensibly. Morgan Freeman stared at her disapprovingly as her body finally stilled, stiff as a board, and she slowly sat up. Her eyes were pure white, smoke began to waft out between her lips, and she had a sickening smile. And then her head turned to face Ivan. A perfect 360 degree rotation. "Ṕ͜҉̛h̵͜'̴̧͜͠n̢͏̷͟g̷̡l̡͞u͏ì̶̕ ̶̶̢͜͠m̶̴̧͘ǵ̴̀͜͠l̸̷͘͞͡w̨͏͜͟'̷̴̧͘͞n̨̡̧͘͘a̢҉̧f̢̡ḩ͝͞ ̢̧̕͢͟C̶̕t͏̷͘͞҉h҉̨͜͞u̧͝͡l͠͠h͟͞u̴̴̶͠ ̵͜R̛̀͜͠'͏̢͢l̵͜y̶̶̢ȩ̡̧͜͏h̶̡̡͜͜ ̸̢͠w̸̶̷̕͡g̸̵a̛͜҉h̸̢̛̕͠'͏̸̕ń̡͜a̧͟҉ǵ͝l̸͡͞ ̡̀f̸̧̢҉ḩ͟ţà̸͢͢͢g̵͝n͏̷," she gasped before her head snapped back and color began to return to her face. "W-what?" Alpha mumbled, raising her hand to her temple in an effort to nurse the sudden headache that was splintering her skull. "Ow, my head! Ow, ow, ow!" she whined, looking down to her curry-stained hands. She scrunched her nose in distaste before mirroring what Ivan had said earlier: "I think the curry's poisoned, Ivy," she groaned. The nickname slipped out casually and, as she tried to stand on both legs (a bit wobbly from the experience she couldn't remember), the head turned to answer Ivan's question. "YES, IVAN, YOU ARE IN LOVE WITH PORTIA AHRENS, AND NOTHING CAN CHANGE THAT," it seems like the Morgan Freeman head was trying to convince Ivan about that fact more than anything. His voice had a condescending lilt to it. "BUT I SUPPOSE IT WILL TAKE TIME FOR YOUR PITIFUL HUMAN BRAIN TO COMPREHEND A BASIC, ESSENTIAL FACT OF THE UNIVERSE. LATER, YOUR LOVE FOR PORTIA AHRENS WILL CHANGE THE WORLD BUT, FOR NOW, YOU MAY CONTINUE YOUR CHILDISH DENIAL, FOOL." The head wasn't even trying to hide his distaste for Ivan at this point. Alpha would've been amused if only it wasn't completely ignoring Alpha's existence. If Ivan was low in the head's book, then where was Alpha? She felt like a replacement Green Lantern. The third wheel. The third Lantern. She was the Guy Gardner to Ivan's Hal Jordan or John Stewart. Man, that head had a knack for making people feel self-conscious. As Alpha got back to her feet, she flung herself back to Ivan's side, putting up a pair of bunny ears up over his head as she listened to the nuggets of wisdom the decapitated head has to say. "FOR YOU TO LEAVE THIS PLACE AND GO BACK TO YOUR OWN HOME, YOU MUST LISTEN CAREFULLY: FIRST, YOU MUST FOLLOW THE YELLOW BRICK PATH TO FIND THE GRAND WIZARD. SECOND, YOU MUST VENTURE INTO CAMELOT, LOCATE, AND OBTAIN EXCALIBUR, THE HOLY SWORD. AND FINALLY, AFTER FINISHING YOUR GRAND TASKS, YOU MUST FIND THE GRAND SUPER-COMPUTER OF AN ALIEN SPECIES OUT IN THE SOLAR SYSTEM. AFTER BILLIONS OF YEARS OF PROCESSING, IT HAS FIGURED OUT THE ANSWER TO THE MEANING OF LIFE, THE UNIVERSE, AND EVERYTHING. YOU MUST PROCURE ALL OF THESE ITEMS: THE HELP OF THE GRAND WIZARD OF OZ, THE HOLY SWORD, AND THE ANSWER OF EVERYTHING IN ORDER TO GO HOME." "Wait, what?" Alpha asked, picking at her ear. She held her arm up. "Uh, just wait a bit! Got something in my ear! Could you repeat that?" BAM! And, as if those words were the cue, the head of Morgan Freeman vanished in a flurry of rainbow smoke. "Aw man," Alpha bemoaned her life. She turned to Ivan. "What now? Uh, I didn't catch any of that." She gulped. This sudden appearance of Morgan Freeman was, perhaps, the last Macguffin before she had to implement her back-up plan: force Ivan and herself into a life of politics, become rulers of this strange world, and then blow it all up to kingdom come and hopefully return to their usual lives. She really, really hoped Ivan had the answer. Alpha wasn't very much interested in becoming a politician (although the added benefits of ruling over the potato people and blowing it all up was very, very tempting). @Iván Carl
