Welcome to Gaia! ::

((I didn't get lost..I was hoping you described to me the pic))

Reaper pulled her eyes away from it and laid it down flat on the table with the picture faced down on the table. Just a few minutes after Ultima disappeared.
"...when did he go?"
~..moments ago..~
Reaper sighed.

Led by his hand, Charles followed Pale into Azvar's Dark Corner Bar. "Do I drink? Well, I can, but I don't get drunk. It's a bit of a long story I can explain over drinks, of whatever sort," he said with a chuckle, scanning the place.

"Nice establishment you've got here. I notice the piano; do you have many musicians in Black Amber?"

Charles shrugged. "I dabble; I've always had a place in my heart for jazz piano. But, waaaay back, I was a trumpet player. Those days seem forever ago though," he thought with a sigh.

"I'm not as old, or as young, if you'd like, as you may think. How about that drink? The strongest stuff, if you don't mind. The closest I can get to a buzz is a concoction that makes normal people go blind."

"Well..." the Chauffeur scratched his head. "Is it bad I lost count after the first couple hundred years?" he said with a small laugh.

"Blessed with immortality: not as entertaining as one may think," he said, taking a seat at the table closest to the piano. "Then there's the whole hundred-percent tolerance thing I've been blessed with, care of my.... clan... so to speak. I wouldn't call it so much a clan, but more like the true creators of the world. The world I'm from, anyway."

Charles stopped short, looking over at Pale. "Oh geez, I started rambling again, didn't I? Pale, I'd love a beer, and, if you want to hear one very interesting story, you've found a great storyteller to be your drinking date."

Charles removed his scythe and set it to his side, leaning back a little and saying, "Well, if you have any questions about what I've said thus far, ask away, just so I don't get confusing later."

"Alien? Haven't heard that one before," he said, twisting the bottle cap off the beer. "But yeah, you could say I am."

The Chauffeur took a drink, letting it settle in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. "Come to think of it, I was trying to get a soda when I suddenly ended up in this place. We have an accidental inter-dimensional wormhole that randomly pops open near our vending machines," he explained.

"Ultimately, wherever I am right now is a different dimension from the one I am from. What I consider to be Earth is a cluster of continents like America, Asia, and Europe, to name a few, and islands and the like. Nothing like this place....

"And not that I'm complaining," he said, taking another drink, "this place, from what I've seen, is pretty incredible. I've always enjoyed beautiful scenery, which was probably a reason why I decided to join the Ponpiki Gosho anyway."

Sure enough, the beer was doing nothing for him. Might as well have been water, but he didn't care. "Have I told you anything about the Gosho yet? I haven't, have I?"

"Well, let's see if I can explain this in a nutshell...." The Chauffeur took a few moments to collect his thoughts and then began his story.

"To sum up the creation of the world, my world: The universe was created by three goddesses, the Sex Goddess, the Goddess of Aetheticism, and the Goddess of Death and Disease. They cultivated life on my Earth, setting up shop on an island they created called Kami Kojima. They also gave themselves a name: the Ponpiki Gosho.

"From here they created underlings, their angels. Three to be exact. One of the angels, Damien, the Angel of Eroticism, got greedy, and a little horny, and decided to create three of his own angels. These angels never obeyed him, just like the previous three to the goddesses.

"Many, many years after this event, the Black E-Mailer, one of Damien's creations, was set in charge of forming a militia that would control the rate of mankind's evolution. She went about creating her Agents. She then elected a Head Agent, named Brent, whom she would declare her lover.

"Brent, however, was in love with another agent, named Anne. The Black E-Mailer quickly took care of this agent, staging a failed mission in order to get rid of Anne. Brent, after many years, kindled a love for the Black E-Mailer.

"One day, he discovered the horrible truth of Anne's death. This caused him to go insane, attempting to kill the Black E-Mailer. He did not succeed, however, but evaded capture. He is now the Ponpiki Gosho's number one nemesis, for he always tries to destory the foundation they have created."

"I come into the picture until far after this event, when I suddenly stumbled onto the island via a steamboat. I hadn't realized it prior to traveling to Kami Kojima, but, after getting electrocuted by the Black E-Mailer, it was discovered that I was immortal. It was then decided by the three dieties that I become a member of the Ponpiki Gosho and tend to the mechanics around the island, as well as be their driver. Hence the name "The Chauffeur."

"It also came to my attention that time on Kami Kojima flows much slower than it does anywhere else on Earth, so I've advanced many years upon my age. Also, I discovered I possed my complete tolerance for any drugs, alcohol, poisons, and any other status-effecting concoctions."

Charles held his beer bottle in the air in a sort of "cheers" position. "And that's the story, more or less," he said, finishing off the beer.

"Well," Charles said with a laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his free left hand, "it wasn't really my intention to be here, just the random fate of those who wanted a Dr. Pepper from the soda machine. But, I must say I haven't been annoyed by being here yet; it's quite nice," he said, smiling.

"And no, I'm not a god, not that I'd want to be. The three I know aren't exactly all there, each having their own little quirks. I mean, come on, they hired me to collect cars for them!

"But I am immortal. It doesn't me I'm invincible, either. I can still get cut, shot, burnt, whatever, and oh it will hurt like hell. I could lose a limb and it won't grow back. Consider me human, save for the fact I couldn't die. Though I suppose you could seperate certain vital organs...."

Charles stopped, looking over at Pale. "But that gross stuff isn't necessary in this conversation. Any more questions and I'd be happy to answer them."

The Chauffeur stood and walked over to the bar, withdrawing more liquor for himself and Pale. "However," he said, sitting back down again, "if you don't have any more questions, I'd like to pass the limelight over to you."