The Once and Future King

[Jay Omega]

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"Action done totally brings relaxation; relaxation done totally brings more action."
-Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh
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Fortress of Ball-itude, Maritopia, Earth
Friday, January 18th, 2019
0932 hrs, Local Time

~Boredom hung over the palatial fortress of The Omega Man, Jay Omega like a sodden blanket. Unaccustomed to having so little to do, Omega had even taken to spending an inordinate amount of time on Twitter, though that had come with the unexpected benefit of putting him back in the running for the WCF's Hardcore Championship; a title very dear to him. All he had to do was win a non-title match against the current champion, and he'd earn himself a shot. Failing that, there was also the upcoming tag team league which had been organized; once he and whomever he wound up paired with smashed through that, he'd have the opportunity to make the match of his choice. That was still a ways off, though, and the intervening time seemed to drag by. Pulling himself up off the leather couch he had been reclining on, Jay began a slow wander through the volcanic basalt halls of his unnecessarily large home.

  Passing by a home theatre carved into the rock, Omega was struck by an idea. Upon his return to Earth, Jay had asked his long-time friend Heather to help Darkmaw and Tasha learn how to act like mostly normal human women; a vital skill if they were going to be on the planet for any significant length of time. Now seemed like a good time to see how well the women had adapted to civilian life, by taking them out to dinner and a movie. The trio had a bit of an odd relationship by Earth standards, and taking two women out on a date was sure to draw some attention, that was unavoidable. However, they would most assuredly garner unwanted attention if they went anywhere in public without first doing something about Tasha's lilac skin and aquamarine hair. Well, perhaps not her hair; fantastical colors had become something of a trend in recent years, and it was unlikely anyone would look twice at the unnatural hue.

  A decision made, Jay headed toward a specific elevator not too far from the theatre room. The golden doors of the elevator were polished to a mirror shine and slid apart with barely a whisper. Inside, the elevator car was a study in opulence; from the thick carpet on the floor to the crushed velvet padding on the gilded bench along the back wall, to the carved ivory buttons set in platinum rings. As the door closed Omega produced a small golden key, triangular in shape, and inserted it into the waiting slot. Turning the key, Jay pressed an unmarked button and held it down for a few seconds, until a slight tingle passed through his entire body. The doors opened a fraction of a second later and Omega stepped from his home on Earth, into a workshop not located anywhere in the known universe. Indeed, Nikola Tesla's Workshop existed in a pocket dimension, only loosely attached to the Prime Material Plane.

  "Yo, Nicky! Where you at?" Jay yelled into the cavernous maze of mysterious machinery and cluttered workstations. A moment later the Wearable Espionage and Information Retrieval Device strapped to his left forearm beeped softly, catching his attention. Omega activated the communication function, and the small screen flickered to life and resolved into an image of Tesla himself. "Don't call me Nicky, I'm not a potato farmer," the brilliant engineer stated sourly, "What I am however is very busy, so why don't we just skip ahead to the part where you tell me what it is you want?" The Omega Man put on a mock pained expression and clapped his right hand over his heart. "Nicky, you wound me," Jay said dramatically, "Can't I just pop in for a visit and a friendly chat now and then?" The W.E.I.R.D.'s high-resolution screen allowed for no mistaking of Tesla's rolled eyes.

  "While you absolutely can, you most certainly never do," the Serbian scientist remarked, "You only ever come to my Workshop when you want something, or when I request your presence. As I did not request your presence, I can only assume that you want something, so what is it?" Defeated, Jay dropped the false expression and put on a more heartfelt small smile. "Okay, ya got me; I'm here for a favour. But you raise a valid point, so I will try to visit for the sake of visiting." Omega subconsciously reached for his ever-present black cigarette case but caught himself upon remembering that Tesla had forbidden any sort of smoking in his Workshop. "I was wondering if you have any of those holo-disguise thingies kicking around. Y'know, those necklaces you made back in Chicago at the start of that Metahuman rights thing?" Tesla sighed with a wry twist of his mouth.

  "Yes, of course I remember," Nikola said curtly; he did so despise having his flawless memory questioned. "You are referring to the Wearable Image and Sound Emulation Guise I developed to allow the Guardians to exfiltrate the city anonymously. Seemed pointless in Master Alex's case; going anywhere in the Strange Rover utterly defeats the purpose of a device meant to allow one to operate incognito." The mad engineer turned his head left and right, searching his immediate area, "I believe I should still have one somewhere. The one I made for you remains unused, as you disappeared before it could be delivered." Jay's face lit up in a full-on grin. "Bangarang! Now, those things are programmable, right? Like, the one you made me can work for anyone, not just me?" Omega's impertinence caused Tesla to chuff in annoyance and he straightened the collar of his lab coat, as he did when irritated.

  "I did design them to be versatile. You'd know this if you had been paying attention when I first broached the concept to you." Jay waved his hand dismissively, brushing the comment aside. "Yeah, yeah, you know technical details aren't really my strong suit. Point is, can you rig the thing up to make Tasha look human? I want to take the ladies out for a good time, but purple skin tends to turn heads, know what I mean?" Nikola pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully, "Indeed. A rather simple matter, truly. It should be ready by the time you make your way back here; I'm currently working with the deludium fabricator. A most remarkable metal, I must say." His destination set, Omega began walking through the mostly automated labyrinth, heading toward the machine used for shaping the alien metal collected from Tasha's homeworld of Aja Darrik.

  Upon arriving at the specified workstation, The Omega Man found Tesla busily soldering wires into place on what looked like a half-finished Terminator, minus the Schwarzenegger appearance. Nikola glanced in Jay's direction, then absently indicated a tool cart to the side of the station. Omega retrieved the holographic projector housed in a small pendant shaped like his personal symbol, then paused to have a closer look at Tesla's project. "So what ya workin' on, Nicky?" Jay asked as he peered into the unlit photoreceptors which would eventually serve as eyes. "Don't call me Nicky," Tesla muttered around the multiple lengths of wire clutched in his teeth, "I'm not a Mormon. As to what I'm working on, I am constructing a bipedal chassis for Whittaker." The engineer put down the soldering gun in favor of a precision screwdriver.

  "Makin' him a robo-body, eh?" Omega said with some interest as he examined the structure of the endoskeleton. "Quite. You recall when you first retrieved Whittaker, before his digital puberty, when you came under assault from the malicious artificial intelligence called Ripper-Seven? Jay nodded silently, wondering what the correlation was. "It has recently come to my attention that said virtual sapient is no longer constrained to the digital realm--" Omega's eyebrows tried to climb into his hairline, and he cut Tesla off, "What?!? Ripper-Seven's got a body now?" Nikola paused in his tinkering to give Jay a serious, level look. "Indeed. I'm unsure when or how it happened, but he is now in possession of an android form. When one takes into account the company he keeps, I think it foolhardy to believe you will never find yourself opposed by him and it would be beneficial to have a mechanical compatriot at your side."

  "I don't think I'll ever complain about having too many allies, that's for sure. And I bet Whittaker would be tickled pink at the idea of getting a pair of legs to stretch, so to speak." The Omega Man stated, nodding his approval, "I assume this is gonna be more than just a really durable Ell Em Dee, right?" Tesla again stopped his work, vexed at the continued interruptions. "Nooo, I'm hand-crafting an average Life Model Decoy using an incredibly rare and irreplaceable material simply because I like the pretty color, you blithering buffoon." The sarcasm was not lost on Jay, who raised his hands defensively. Tesla pushed on, however, intent on getting back to his work, "Of course the mobile platform will be equipped for combat; I've no idea what this android Ripper-Seven is capable of, and I'll take no chances. Now if you don't mind, I have much work ahead of me, and you have something to be about too, yes?"

  Capable of taking a hint, Omega pocketed the W.I.S.E. Guise and bid Tesla a good day, then retreated through the Workshop until he arrived at the elevator door he had entered through. The transition back to his island fortress was as simple as waiting for the doors to close him in, then choosing which floor he wanted to arrive at. Jay selected the ground floor and waited a moment until the familiar tingle ran the length of his body, the golden doors sliding open noiselessly a moment later. As soon as Omega stepped out of the elevator, he sent a polite summons through the cybernetics in his skull, to which Erin responded immediately. How can I help you, Pilot Jay? came a synthesized woman's voice in his head. I want to take the ladies out to dinner and a movie, can you make some reservations and let me know what movies are playing in Pensacola? Jay replied mentally as he made his way to the patio seeking his wife and girlfriend.~

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Pensacola, Florida, United States, Earth
Friday, January 18th, 2019
2023 hrs, Local Time

~Their hunger sated from a delicious meal at Skopelos At New World, the trio of Jay Omega, Ymsyllynt'ash'Andwalu - informally known as Tasha, privately known as Ymsyllynt - and Darkmaw - trying to rediscover her long-lost human identity of Evelyn Nakamura - took up the whole sidewalk as they strolled down South Palafox Street all in a row, having chosen to walk to the REX Theatre. The conversation had rambled through a variety of topics over the course of dinner and had recently changed to a discussion of what they were going to name the child, and what role Evelyn would take in raising her. "I enjoy the sound of Dynyllev'jyn'Andwalu," Tasha put forth, which caused Evelyn to place a hand on her shoulder, "I know it still pains you, darahi, but I must remind you that you're no longer a member of the Imperial family." The young Japanese abductee said softly.

  "Besides, as nice as that sounds, there's no way we're naming our daughter Vjyna." Jay added with a smirk as they passed by the Plaza Ferdinand VII. Tasha opened her mouth to ask what suggestions he might have - if any - when a trio of rough-looking men in stained and dirty clothes stepped out of the park and barred their path. "Nice night for a walk," Said the man in the middle; his yellowing, decayed teeth adding a feral aspect to his predatory grin, "How's about you give us your money, and we let you enjoy the rest of your night with all your teeth where they should be?" It took a moment for it to sink in that the men were trying to mug Omega and his dates, and when the information did click, Jay responded in the only appropriate manner; he burst out laughing. Not the result he had been expecting, the lead ruffian produced a switchblade and waved it in Omega's face.

  The brandished knife was enough to cease Jay's laughter, but it didn't wipe the smile from his face. "Okay, I understand you're trying to be intimidating, and I'm sure it works on most people, but you clearly don't know who I am, since there's only three of you," Omega began, bringing a snarl to the leader's face. "Ladies, would either of you like to embarrass these three dipshits who think they can rob us, or shall I?" Tasha's confused expression changed to one of understanding as she realized the three men were criminals attempting to make victims of them. Her expression then changed to one of resolve and anger as she stepped forward. "I would be glad to deliver justice to this filth who would dare accost us, my love." Jay stepped back and put an arm around Evelyn's shoulders, eagerly awaiting the show. "Try not to kill them, Tasha." He said cheerily.

  The former princess surged forward with the speed and grace of a cheetah; Earth's gravity was roughly 20% less than that of Tasha's homeworld, giving her an enormous speed and strength advantage. The knife-wielding criminal barely had time to register that his wrist had been crushed before Tasha's spinning kick took him under the jaw and raised him a foot off the ground. "Y'know, this actually puts me in the mood to cut a promo, it makes for a decent comparison," Omega said to Evelyn as he reached into his omnicoat. From a specialized pocket added by Tesla, Jay withdrew a Compact Aerial Recon Drone - basically a tiny flying camera the size of a business card - and synced it to his W.E.I.R.D. before he tossed it into the air. The drone circled once to find the optimal position, then signaled it was ready to begin recording via a chime from the W.E.I.R.D..~

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"No sensible man ever engages, unprepared, in a fencing match of words with a woman."
-Wilkie Collins
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*Welcome back, True Believers! Our video begins in the same way that all Jay Omega promos do. If you've been with us for a while, you know what that means, and if you're a new read-- er, viewer, then you've just watched your blank black screen fade in, so I'm sure you can figure it out. The images that have faded into view are those of Jay Omega, wearing black pants and a gray sweatshirt - the logo of which is partially obscured by his ruddy red leather jacket - with his arm around a slim, young Japanese woman wearing loose-fitting black pants and a puffy, dark blue jacket, her black hair kept short in a pixie cut. The pair stands on an otherwise empty sidewalk, the scene tinted orange by the streetlights providing the only illumination. Sounds of an altercation fill the air, and Jay turns himself slightly to his left, causing the camera to shift slightly in order to keep him centered, which in turn brings into view the altercation in question.*

*Several feet beyond Omega and his companion, difficult to see in the low light of the park which serves as the setting for this action, a lone female figure is in the midst of a whirling assault against two men, while a third male figure lies motionless on the ground. The woman in the background moves with the speed of a striking viper, her arms and legs blurring as she dances around the two to strike at various openings in their crude defenses. The battle - if it can truly be called such - doesn't last very long, and ends with the woman catching a punch thrown her way, then twisting as she ducks down to lift the man over her head before she throws him headfirst into the other man's face, knocking both of them unconscious simultaneously. The lone female then saunters casually in our direction, to a round of applause from Jay.*

Jay Omega: Bravissimo! That was fucking awesome, Tasha! Inspiring as well.

*The woman Omega refers to as Tasha steps into the glow of the street lights, revealing herself to be an olive-skinned beauty with an oval face framed by aquamarine hair, which offsets bright green almond-shaped eyes. Dressed in tight blue jeans with a pale purple jacket to ward off the chill in the air, Tasha’s exotic features perfectly complement those of the pale-skinned Japanese beauty at Jay’s side, making them a trio of very attractive people. Omega slips his free arm around Tasha’s shoulders, then looks into the camera.*

Jay Omega: I’ll get to how that inspired me in a moment, but first I wanted to say that I was initially going to do a Street Fighter-themed promo, drawing parallels between myself and Ryu compared to Kennedy Matthews and Ken Masters. Then I did a little digging and realized that we are unlike Ken and Ryu, as Kennedy isn’t even a pale imitation of me. I also realized I only wanted to do the Street Fighter thing because of the similarity in names between Ken and Kennedy… why does that sound familiar?

*Omega screws up his face in confusion, then shakes his head and waves a hand dismissively.*

Jay Omega: Doesn’t matter. Point is, as I watched my beautiful bride beat the shit out of dickwads who had fantastic timing and terrible luck, I realized that was the analogy I was looking for. Not the luck and timing, though I could find a way to make that fit, but the fact that, like those thugs my wife so handily destroyed a moment ago, Kennedy Matthews finds herself facing an opponent she has woefully underestimated, and thus is wholly unprepared for. And like those thugs, Kennedy will soon sorely regret the decisions which led to our encounter.

*Jay removes his arms from the ladies on either side of him, and retrieves his black cigarette case and gold Zippo, then pulls out a thick spliff which he promptly lights up.*

Jay Omega: Granted, she couldn’t have known that her open challenge would immediately be accepted by one of the most dangerous Hardcore Champions in the history of the Dub. A man who lent so much prestige to the title, people actively avoided facing me. I can only hope Kennedy will do even a tiny bit of research on me, unlike Jimbo the Wolfman who couldn’t be bothered.

*Omega hits the burning spliff held in his left hand, motions to the women on either side of him to follow, and begins to walk down the street.*

Jay Omega: Speaking of ol’ Jimbo brings to mind another parallel between what just happened in that park, and what’s going to happen in the Pensacola Bay Center Monday night; a female combatant standing alone against two men who mean to do her harm. See, I don’t know if you’ve read between the lines, Miss Matthews, but I’ve got a persistent suspicion we’ll be getting a mid-match visit from the Wolfman. Difference is that I ain’t interested in helping him, and I’m only looking to hurt ya as much as necessary to win this match, and maybe get a point across. But Jimbo?

*Jay takes another lungful of the intoxicating herb and shakes his head as he exhales.*

Jay Omega: I’m pretty sure Jimbo’s motivations are a little personal, and a little petty. Now I can understand him bein’ a little salty after taking as many losses as he has these past few months, but by his own admission he doesn’t care about such things, so why the fixation on Kennedy and her - I mean my - title? I think he just sees it as a mere trinket he can easily collect to give himself some credibility, but it doesn’t work that way. Man, I know I compared him to Adam Young a few weeks ago, but the more I think about it, the more he reminds me of Anthony Douglas.

*Omega holds up a forestalling hand, despite our inability to interrupt him, and hits his doobie again.*

Jay Omega: I know, I know, you don’t know who that is. Don’t feel bad, even the people who were here at the same time he was don’t know who he is. He’s not important - never was - and James Wolf isn’t really important either. Here’s hoping he doesn’t try to stick his nose in my business, but I ain’t optimistic about him being wise enough to stay off my radar. That’s more than enough about forgettable people who are totally irrelevant, though, I really should make an effort to focus on yet another self-proclaimed member of wrestling royalty.

*Jay glances left then right before crossing an intersection, once more drawing deeply on the burning ganja and he exhales through his nose as he shakes his head. The Japanese woman to his right turns her head and waves away an errant wisp of smoke that drifts in her direction.*

Jay Omega: So Kennedy, you call yourself the Anti-- no, that’s an old bit. You call yourself the quote-unquote “Queen of Professional Wrestling”, and like so many others before you, you claim that royal title before having done anything to deserve it. Make no mistake, the only success of note in your career thus far is a victory over DeeDubya Wolf for that strap you carry. Your two TeeVee title reigns? Worthless. A puff of smoke next to guys like John Gable. And to be honest, your Hardcore title reign is doing a fair job of making Dan Van Slade look like a legitimate contender. Yeah, yeah, I’m throwing out names you don’t know again. But they do, the fans.

*Omega waves a hand at the camera vaguely, attempting to encompass all of the WCF Galaxy in his gesture.*

Jay Omega: Kennedy, unless you’ve done your homework, you probably don’t know about the fateful Fatal Fourway that saw me crowned as the King of Pain. But the fans remember the Hellacious battle I had with Dan Van Slade, Zombie McMorris, and Thomas Bates. Sure, Van Slade was a disappointment, but Tommy Bates and Zee MackleMorris are some big boys, and I fucked them up but good. You think you’re hard because you took down Scott Slayer? Bitch please, you choke so hard any time you’re in the ring with anyone of real talent, I’d almost think you were me in a World title match. But Hardcore? That’s my shit right there, and I wants it back.

*Jay takes a final draw from his joint, and drops the roach as he and his lady friends cross another street.*

Jay Omega: I spent the early part of my career as one of those half-retarded “extreme” spot monkeys that are beloved by fourteen-year-olds, I’ve put my body through so many different Hells, you wouldn’t be able to comprehend the number, let alone their names. I’ve waded through an alphabet soup of wrestling companies, taking bumps and giving lumps, and I put all that experience into practice here in the Dub. The list of people I haven’t beaten is short indeed, but the list of people I have stomped is longer than Odin Balfore’s beard, and Monday night, I add your name to that list. You can call yourself the Queen of Professional Wrestling all you want…

*Omega stops walking, causing the camera to cease moving as well. Jay makes a “come hither” motion with his hand, and our view zooms in on his head and shoulders.*

Jay Omega: But one way or another, when you step into the ring with me and the bell signals the start of our bout, you will be introduced to a whole new level of pain you never knew existed. I will defeat you Monday night, Kennedy. And make no mistake, when the contract is signed pitting us against each other once more, with my rightful title on the line…

*Our view zooms in even more until Jay’s electric blue eyes fill the screen, their sparkling depths filled with malicious promises of the sweetest anguish.*

Jay Omega: Either you will kneel before the King of Pain… or you will be made to kneel. Long live the King.

*We zoom in on Omega’s right eye until the pupil fills the screen, then presumably fade to black.*