Title: Houou no Naku Koro ni - III: Recruitment
Featuring: Seymour Almasy
Date: Before ReVolution 239
Location: You'll see (ReVolution 240, vs. Alexandra Pierce)

I. Clash on the Big Bridge

The sky raged over a bridge spanning a hundred foot gap, the heavens pouring down upon that godforsaken stretch of the world. Standing on the bridge, enduring the wrath of nature, were two men that had, in many ways, been waiting for this day practically since they came of age.

Seymour Almasy looked across the span of the bridge, into the red-glowing visage of a man he knew all too well. Lightning struck and thunder boomed, and the pouring rain had matted Seymour’s long hair to practically every available exposed skin surface, but Almasy didn’t care. He had been waiting for this moment for years. In some ways, he’d been waiting for this moment for his entire life.

“This is it, Allen,” he proclaimed, taking another step forward on the rain-slicked pavement. “No Avis Flyfield. No Andrew Sharp. No Falks, no Alexandria, and no Mega Job. It’s you and me.”

Peering back into Almasy’s eyes from behind a glowing, red visor was a man familiar to most who watched professional wrestling. In many ways, it was a man destined to be Seymour Almasy’s mortal enemy. His green dress shirt clung to him like tissue paper, soaked in the storm. His vest and tie somehow, even under the stress of nature, remained perfectly in place.

As he watched Almasy approach, the visored man merely tightened up his grip on the large hammer that he clutched with two hands. His emotions were unreadable beneath his visor, but one had to believe that he was preparing for battle.

And then, finally, the Codemaster spoke.

“Ha…! It is finally time for us to end this. You’re going down faster than Final Fantasy XIV’s userbase. Here, underneath this pouring sky…”

From…somewhere in his natty attire, the Codemaster manages to pull out a mug of coffee.

“Oh God,” Seymour groans, watching as Allen Brown takes a long, hearty sip.

“You know, Seymour,” Brown said, making sure to milk the moment for all it was worth. “I drink seventeen cups of coffee in any given battle to the death. But the first one is always the �"“

Almasy lunged, grabbing the coffee mug out of the Codemaster’s hand. Once in possession of it, he threw it down on the ground, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

“Spare me the Godot impression, Allen.”

Were such a thing possible, Seymour swore the visor glowed more…malevolently. Its owner was none too pleased, either.

“YOU-YOU-YOU SON OF A SUBMARINER!” the Codemaster thundered. “You’ll pay for this!”

Seymour all but growled by way of response, shaking his head at the former leader of the Blue Rogues.

“This is it, for real. You and I, our Clash on the Big Bridge. You’ve got your stupid hammer, and I’ve got…this.”

From his side, the Dynast-King withdrew a large, well-made weapon. Pommels curved around both sides of his hand as he clutched the black weapon tightly. It looked for all the world like a sword, until one saw the protuberances on the top, which left little doubt that it was, in fact…

“A Keyblade,” the Codemaster spat. “How cute. And appropriate, too, since by the time the Megaton Hammer and I are finished with you, your facial features will make less sense than the plot of that horrid Tetsuya Nomura ego-stroke.”

Seymour could withstand a lot, but insults to Kingdom Hearts were more than he could bear.

This had been building for years, really, with the two men occasionally in the same company, and eternally compared to one another. Seymour was the headliner, the guy with the goofy gimmick who’d made it good as a worldwide superstar, but the Codemaster was the guy who’d reached the top of the mountain in the fWo and PRIME, and had title success to show for it.

Almasy liked Square-Enix RPGs the best. Codemaster preferred the glories of things that were Nintendo Hard.

Seymour liked Aeris, Codemaster preferred Zelda.

They had done battle in ACW and the Squared Circle, but now, this was no wrestling match. This was a Clash on the Big Bridge, and neither man wanted to lose.

Almasy charged, swinging the keyblade in a downward arc for the Codemaster’s head. The Breaker of Kingdom Hearts was quick to counter, placing one hand on his hammer’s face and raising the weapon horizontally to block.

“Please,” the Tethe’allen Rattlesnake sneered. “I’m stronger than the Colossus of Rhodes! Smarter than the mighty Andross! I have more willpower than Valmar himself!”

“And you talk more than Na’vi,” Seymour retorted, winding back for another swing that was blocked easily. It was Allen’s turn to go on the offensive, winding up with the Megaton Hammer and swinging it downwards, a blow that a quick backpedal by Seymour easily evaded. Almasy shook his head vehemently, sending droplets of water flying.

“Spare me, Allen. The only sort of creature that thing works on are those with easily obvious weak points! Unless I’m one of those, or a round stake, your hammer is useless against me!”

“Forgive me for mistaking you for a stake,” the Codemaster shot back, “but given your bland demeanor, lack of any interesting qualities whatsoever, and penchant for getting pounded into the ground by yours truly, it was an innocent mistake.”

Caught up in the midst of his speech, Allen wasn’t prepared for Almasy’s diagonal swing towards his body. The Codemaster leaped back, only to be grazed by the tip of the Keyblade. He hissed in pain, clutching at his chest while Seymour grinned in triumph.

“Had enough yet?” Seymour asked, advancing threateningly with his weapon, and the Codemaster shook his head in the negative.

“A lowborn thug like you could never defeat octopus royalty!”

The Codemaster used his foot to block the swinging Keyblade (as, well, it’s a blunt goddamned object.) He winced in pain, but manages to whirl around the Megaton Hammer to catch Seymour in the upper thigh. Almasy collapsed to both knees to tend to the wound, face contorted in pain.

“Tch! Even if I did have a glowing weak point, you’d never be able to find it!” Seymour tried to push himself back up, but his leg gave him notable trouble.

“I,” the exultant Allen Brown said, as he stood and began to advance with his mallet, looking for all the world like a bald version of a certain King of Kings, “the Codemaster…”

“FIRAGA~!”

Seymour Almasy’s signature (flash paper) fireball came spewing forth from his hands. Luckily, the Codemaster had just put several more points into dexterity before this battle, so he was able to jump back and not even singe an eyebrow.

“Idiot,” the Codemaster cackled. “Don’t you know I’m wearing a Ruby Vest that protects me from 50% of your fire damage?”

With an annoyed look on his face, Seymour shook his head. “How in the name of Vayne Solidor is that a Ruby Vest? It looks like a Green and White Stripes Vest!”

“Just what I WANTED you to think!” With that slightly silly proclamation, the Codemaster charged again, but this time, Almasy didn’t have a fireball to stop him. Winding up, Codemaster swung his hammer mightily, only for Almasy to roll to the side as it smashed harmlessly into the pavement.

The Codemaster raised his hammer once more, this time, to smash towards the right where Almasy was. Easily, Seymour rolled away, and crash went the hammer again.

“Your AI is awful,” Almasy sneered. “Could you be any more predictable with that thing?”

Seymour moved forward, hooking the Keyblade back behind the Codemaster’s ankle and tripped him neatly to the bridge with it. The Megaton Hammer slipped from Allen Brown’s rain-slick hands, and came to a clattering halt several feet away.

Without his weapon, the Codemaster was helpless, and Seymour didn’t seem intent on showing any mercy.

“Very well, I will grant you your death,” Almasy cackled. “You seem to want it so…”

With a guttural, triumphant cry, Seymour raised the keyblade high, and drove it down into the fallen Blackest Brother in the Hyrule Kingdom. This was truly horrifying, as it meant there was a possibility of a Nobody Codemaster named Nexall running around in the near future.

Fortunately, however, we were all spared that fate. The Codemaster lay, motionless, underneath the pouring rain, and Seymour thrust the Keyblade back in the air, swinging it around and humming the Final Fantasy victory fanfare to himself.

“And that, as they say, is that.”

Suddenly though, as Seymour relished in his triumph, a miraculous event occurred. A glass jar of some sort fell from the Codemaster’s person, landing on the ground and breaking open.

As Seymour Almasy watched a…something come free of the bottle, he voiced the first thought to come to mind.

“You have got to be shitting me…”

As if it’s not obvious enough, let’s give you some MUSICAL ACCOMPANIMENT.

Link! Fill up your hearts!
So you can shoot! Your sword with pow-ower!
And when you’re feeling all down
The fairy will come around
So you’ll be brave, and not a sissy coward!

With no further ado, the Codemaster popped up, re-energized and ready to take on the challenge of the Final Fantasy.

“My Heart Containers are filled, and I’m ready for action! Did you seriously think I’d come unprepared? Why, I spent an hour on the way here scouring every INCH of Lake Hylia for fairies! I’ve got three more where that came from, Sephiroth-wannabe!”

And with that, both men charged one another once again.

“FOR AERIS!” shouted Seymour.

“FOR ZELDA!” shouted the Codemaster.

Both men struggled, their weapons locked tightly against one another, both men pushing and straining for purchase on the wet ground of the bridge. At first, the Codemaster was winning, pushing down the Oblivion keyblade of his rival, but with a mighty heave, Almasy sent the Megaton Hammer and his own keyblade flying up.

And up.

And out of both men’s hands, the two weapons sailing off of the bridge and into the stormy waters below.

Seymour Almasy looked at the Codemaster.

The Codemaster looked at Seymour Almasy.

Both men looked into the tiny red lights of the cameras capturing their every move, and beyond those lights to a pair of TV executives hoping to God that these dumb wrestlers could improvise. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, it was Almasy who spoke first.

“Well, then, Allen. It looks like it’s time for me to do what I do best.”

Beneath his visor, the Codemaster scoffed. “Cry like a little girl when Aeris dies?”

Seymour shook his head, and was already airborne for the jump spinning roundhouse kick he had used since his first day in the sport, called the Jecht Shot. It caught the Hyrulian Hellraiser on the cheek, and sent him spiraling to the bridge’s soaked surface.

“Pwning n00bs,” was Almasy’s answer, and he quickly hurried over to the Codemaster’s downed form, turning away from him in an effort to set up the Paradigm Shift.

Bad move, Mr. Almasy. Even from his back, the Codemaster still had the ability to do one thing well, and that is throw one Hell of an uppercut punch to the nads.

All of the air rushed out of Almasy’s body, and he sank to both of his knees. A triumphant Codemaster rose, and stood above Almasy, hooking one of his arms to pump-handle it, setting up for the maneuver known only as the Will of Valmar.

“I AM GOD,” Allen Brown bellowed. “I AM THE ABSOLUTE AND COMPLETE GOD!”

A pair of sharp back elbows to the face ended the attempt at the Will, and Seymour stepped out from the pumphandle. “God of overblown, overdramatic dialogue, maybe,” he sneered. “It’s sure as the World That Never Was not wrestling.”

The two men went face to face, foreheads pressed against one another’s, rage evident in the twitching of their every muscle. Finally, both lashed out, shoving the other hard in the chest. Codemaster slid backwards several steps before recovering his ground, and pulling himself forward into something resembling Sagat’s Muay Thai stance.

For his part, Almasy halted his backwards slide with a back handspring, landing on all fours. From within his soaked clothing he pulled out a small dagger, and seemed poised to leap forward and rip the Codemaster apart.

And…

“Cut! That was perfect you guys! Great improvising when the weapons went away!”

For the panting and exhausted grapplers, the fact that they wouldn’t have to do another take was reward enough.

II. The Codemaster Has Joined Your Party

Both Seymour and Allen finally relaxed at the command from the director. Perhaps more importantly, the rain machine throwing water all over the makeshift bridge set finally stopped, allowing both men some measure of comfort. Interns rushed onto the set with towels, wrapping both Almasy and the Codemaster in fluffy whiteness.

For the two men, it had been a promotional video, shot to advertise the 2011 SPIKE Video Game Awards. Those awards would be in December of the year, but they’d asked both Almasy and Codemaster to shoot sooner rather than later.

All of that explained why Seymour Almasy had flown back to the States to take care of business, knowing he’d have to fly right back across the goddamned Atlantic.

“I’m seeing more plane time than most pilots,” Seymour grumbled, shivering under his towel. Among the reasons he’d agreed to do this, however, was not simply the publicity. Allen Brown, a/k/a the Codemaster, was the sort of man that Seymour wanted on his side these days. Allies, especially in a place where Seymour had few if any, were more than welcome.

“That wasn’t bad,” the Codemaster chimed in, he too shivering under his towel. “Considering I’ve been on a strict training regimen of Pokemon Black and Mass Effect 2 for most of the past few months, that went pretty well.”

“Sometimes,” Seymour said, “I wish that I could stick to that sort of training regimen. PRIME’s on its Culture Shock tour, and I’ve been flying all over the damned planet trying to take care of things.”

“Ah, I remember those days,” Allen reminisced. “Never thought you’d ever go to PRIME. What happened, run out of money to feed your addiction to prostitutes willing to dress up as video game characters?”

“Nah,” Seymour shook his head. “Besides, I was wrestling in the middle of red light districts in Japan for the past six months. I had rats willing to do that for free. I came back because I was bored.”

That was, at best, a half-truth, but the less Allen knew about the current situation, the better.

“Anyway,” the Codemaster said, figuring the less detail Seymour got into, the better, “you wanted to talk, talk. I’m a busy man these days. Memory cards don’t fill themselves, you know.”

“I’m a man on an island in PRIME, Allen,” Seymour said. “No one there is particularly fond of me. I’ve got designs on being Universal Champion someday, and when it comes right down to it, I need allies. And when I think allies, I think the Blackest Brother in the Hyrule Kingdom. I think the Master of the Megaton Hammer�"“

“That’s not bad,” Codemaster observed. “Remind me to write that down.”

“�"I think the only man as video game obsessed as I am,” Almasy concluded. “I want you as the first ally of mine. Seymour and Allen leading a party towards endgame.”

“You know, I went around doing something like this a few years ago,” the Codemaster pointed out, proudly. “I assembled a party full of my Blue Rogues and we set ourselves upon PRIME in search of glory, GP, and Garchomp. Well, not so much Garchomp, the fourth generation Pokemon games hadn’t quite come out yet back then.”

“And how’d that go for you,” Almasy asked. “Last I checked, the only competent members of the Rogues were you and Coral Avalon. Alex, too, if you count competence as being one of two ever…how did it go again?”

“Undisputed Amy Dumas Memorial Jizzbang Champion,” Allen reeled off, without missing a beat.

“Yeah,” Seymour replied. “That.”

“It went okay, I guess,” Allen shrugged. “Locke and I won the tag team titles. And then it went sort of downhill, but hey, I made friends with Nova and Mr. Silver, so it wasn’t all bad.”

“PRIME’s got a lot of tough people around these days. Violence Jack and his motley band of cultists, Alexandra Pierce, Tchu, Lindsay Troy…”

At the mention of the Queen of the Ring’s name, the Codemaster growled angrily.

“…and the like,” Almasy finished. “Walking around alone seems like a bad idea, especially considering I have this habit of making enemies.”

Thinking over Almasy’s conundrum for a moment, the Codemaster suddenly grinned.

“I’ve got a lot of experience with entourages,” the Codemaster noted. “Why, if you wanted, I could even call up-“

“No.” Seymour wanted literally no chance of the words “Mega Job” being said.

“I could have said “call up Alexandria Malone,” Allen pointed out.

“You could have,” Seymour agreed, nodding, “but you weren’t going to, were you?”

“…well, no, I wasn’t. We are not on what you would call 'speaking terms'. And by that, I mean that the guy who used to date her hit me with a lariat so hard that I was literally knocked to 12,000 BC and a boss battle with Lavos."

Seymour winced. “Did you at least win and get a cool ending?”

If a visor can look sheepish, Codemaster’s is pulling off the trick right now.

“I’ll take that as a no, then. But in all seriousness, I’ll be damned if I’m dealing with Mega Job or the Falks, Allen. I’ve got a six foot eleven monster on my side just waiting to be sprung on all of those silly Rabites when they expect it the least.. As you’d say, this isn’t easy mode. I’m taking you all into Titan Mode, and I need some gamers.”

“That was awful,” Allen sighed. “It’s so obvious you don’t play anything but RPGs.”

“It’s not like I have time for anything else, you know,” Seymour pointed out. “RPGs take a long time to beat. And besides, I have Dissidia for when I get tired of them.”

Allen simply shook his head at his far less…educated gaming companion.

“So, are you on board, my video game loving brother from another mother?” Even as the words came out of his own mouth, Seymour Almasy cringed.

“I’m in,” the Codemaster said, “if only because you make me look even cooler than I already am by comparison.”

Seymour sighed, but really, he wasn’t in any sort of position to turn down help that wasn’t, say, Mega Jobbian.

“Alrighty then, Allen, welcome to the Party.”

And so it was that the Codemaster, one time leader of his own party, became a member of Seymour Almasy’s, to serve as the Dynast-King’s…really, Seymour? Do I really have to say this?

Almasy: Yes, you do. Or I’m hiring another narrator. In this job market, I could find one like THAT. LIKE THAT!

Fine, fine… And so it was that the Codemaster, one time leader of his own party, became a member of Seymour Almasy’s, to serve as the Dynast-King’s…

Almasy: Do it, Rabite.

…attorney-at-lawl. There. I did it. I’m going home now.

(Fin.)
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