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Description
Part of the J ReVerse Crossover Fanfiction Universe (www.deviantart.com/jmp01/galle… ), so basically a mega mash up of different properties and characters into one big shared multiverse.

Also Part of the fanfic story, SymGen/Symbiogenesis, particularly about two of the characters featured here, Lesion and Randall, located here: www.deviantart.com/jmp01/galle…

This happens some time after the last pic, Lesion the symbiote mercenary has just saved Randall's life and brought him to the dinosaur infested island of Isla Muerta, and some time after the young man has settled in, they have a chat about their situation...

All properties involved belong to their respective owners, I guess I just down the OCs

Also this is gonna be an infodump like in the title, Lesion's gonna exposition with paragraphs and probably clunky dialogue....

--------------------------------

“So, where do you want to start first young man?”

“Well…”

Randall watched as the two other people in the room, Lesion and Diamant, looked at him, able to tell of his current trepidation.

It had only been a day since he had made landfall. Ignoring the fact he had survived what he had just learned was a hit on him, the fact he was being protected by a symbiote, and was now stuck on an island with said symbiote, a Gardevoir with boobs and clothes, a child soldier, and who knows else ignoring the dinosaurs which apparently inhabited this god-forsaken rock… he was actually somewhat fine. Perhaps he got over the stress of this? He glanced outside the large paned window to the sunset washed ocean.

Lesion spoke up first, “Before you answer, how were your accommodations? I know it’s a barebones ass room so…”

“Ah well, it was decent…” Randall answered quickly, glancing away from the sunset outside of the room, “So my first question, who were those guys who attacked me?”

“Right, to be frank, Yakuza punks.”

“... you’re joking.”

Diamant levitated a coffee cup she had on a platter to Lesion, who took a sip.

“Your father had powerful enemies.”

“My dad? But he’s just a war vet…”

“The old man had… quite the history.” The parasite replied curtly.

“You… know him.”

Lesion shifted in the seat as Diamant psychically retrieved the cup. “Friends. Or at least I owe him a debt.”

“For what, that symbiote or something?”

“Oh, you think-” to Randall’s confusion, Lesion chuckled,”Unfortunately, that’s not how this works.”

It took a second as the being’s skin pealed back from his face, and the soldier let out a cry as a head slumped out from the hood, blank and slack jawed. Lesion’s face soon reformed as Randall sank into his seat more.
“W-what the hell?!”

“I’m the suit.” Lesion answered simply, “My species might work like living clothes or weapons, but in actuality, our… creator, made us to be simply, evil parasites who take over hosts. Strings for him to control you meat bags.”

Lesion seemed to smirk as that revelation sank in.

“So…”

“Right, side tracking to the Symbiotes… I guess technically we’re called the “Klyntar”. Our creator was a dark god of the void, made us from liquid shadow and some weird stuff, sent us out to kill or control beings like you for his bidding. Something about hating the light and wanting to corrupt its children. Anyway, us Klyntar eventually rejected and helped seal him away, but perhaps one day he’ll rise back up.”

“Wow, didn’t know you guys were part of an epic.”

“That’s ‘cause that memory was wiped out.”

“... huh?”

“Yeah, our species and our new allies collectively erased the memory of that. Reinvented the who race into benevolent space knights who crusade against space crime.” Lesion’s tone seemed mocking at this point, “For billions of years they’ve basically become space cops. Some exceptions include the symbiotes you know of and me, among others who retain our more sordid routes. Probably doesn’t help us rogues are more famous and we’re nastier. I just happened on this information during my mercenary work years ago.”

“So your kind is really old?” Randall wracked his brain around that.

“We don’t have a definitive age limit I think. Granted I’m not that old I think. Been around since your human’s stone age?”

“Seriously? So you’ve been around since then?”

“Born here. My mama died fleeing… something. Never got to find out. Some stone age kid picked me up and since then I was a weapon, a tool for humanity to use and fight over.”

“... how much to you recall?”

Lesion looked lost in thought for a bit, “...I’ve been used for a lot, didn’t think for my self mostly, and I didn’t keep track so frankly my memories of your history are blurry. Probably didn’t help that being hosted by animals degrades my mind to a more feral state. I do recall being in ancient Mesopotamia, went around Asia a few times, Africa, Middle Ages Europe, then I ended up in the Revolutionary and Civil Wars…”

“How about recent history? As in the 1900s to today? I assume you met my father recently or something?”

“Right. The world wars were my roughest years. Got hooked up to some British soldier the first time. Second I was… host to a female survivor of the camps who went on a blood soaked rampage. Nazi scum...”

“...O-oh, I’m sorry.” Randall looked apologetic, “I didn’t mean to dredge up-”

“Don’t apologize Randall.” Lesion breathed heavily and reclined as Diamant rubbed his shoulders, “The past is the past and I can only move forward. Anyway she died, I was found by the Russians, and shipped off for testing. Later on they for whatever reason shipped me off to help the Viet Cong. One thing led to another, and they decided to give me to a crazed member of the group. Though as it turns out I wasn’t the only symbiote as the Americans had some in the field as well.”

“So you aren’t the first Symbiote here?”

“Probably. Anyway I met your father when my host decided to massacre at a US camp and managed to get Napalm on him. Us symbiotes hate heat like that, so I dipped out and let that bastard die. Your father survived the attack and, with few options for either of us, he became my host.”

“So he… wore you. And then you guys managed to survive that war and return to America then.”

“Yep. And then he did stuff my other hosts hadn’t in more recent decades: He was really nice to me. He was a brave and loyal man among those men in the jungle. Even when he brought me back with him at the end, he never alerted his officers of me. I stayed with him a bit and he taught me to be more independent. He even, though accidentally, found out us symbiotes have a thing for Chocolates.”

“... you do?” Randall asked, stunned.

“Yeah. And brains. Apparently they share a similar compound us symbiotes are addicted to. Anyway we were partners, taking down local crime until he grew older and had a missus. He let me go and I took over a drug baron we had taken down. We kept in touch while I jumped from host to host, doing gig after gig and becoming a mercenary while using my hosts to gain money and skills. Eventually I landed a contract with InGen while they developed Jurassic Park. Though that fell through and I just kept the island after assisting Puerto Rico with some of their… problems. I tend to do that for many clients.”
“You have shown me that you’re resourceful, Lesion.” The human replied.

“Right. So I built up a small base while taking care of the dinosaurs hidden out here, and even assisted InGen again when they got ready to make Jurassic World, and then fell through again. A decade after my last contact with him, your father called me while on his deathbed.”

“Right… I was still missing then.”

“You made big news. Stuck in Afghanistan during the war, went MIA after a mine took your squad out. Yet you survived.”

“Call it luck and god’s will.” Randall replied curtly as his gaze returned to the darkening view outside the large window of the room.

“Must’ve been rough. Anyway when news reached that the Marines found you during a mission. Your father knew he couldn’t meet with you in time and had drawn upon me for a very… personal favor I owed him for everything: Take care of you. He still had enemies even while he was having you, and he knew I could protect you after he died. Said he was proud of you.”

Lesion moved in to comfort the young man, who seemed only to be partially holding up.

“Y-yeah… so how’d you met the kid and the Pokemon?”

Well, Diamant telepathically started, With me, he found me when a bunch of poachers took my family and others in the congo and harvested us for goods…

She shook her fist but went on.

Lesion saved us, part of a mission to deal with the poacher’s boss, some rich fat man. He took us in and I became his personal pokemon partner. Even registered as a trainer, not that he’ll use me in battle.

“Don’t you wild pokemon dislike humanity’s whole Pokemon Training and Battle stuff?” Lesion spoke up.

Depends.

“As for the kid… well, met Chabod on a mission too. African Warlord with thousands of child soldiers. Managed to take the kid with me after I slew that piece of work. I haven’t had the time to demilitarize Chabod so he’s been hanging around as a sort of guard.” The symbiote sighed, “Training’s too ingrained in him anyway, but I don’t plan on throwing his life away by making him another mercenary on this island.”

“So who else will I meet here?” Randall asked.

“Besides the dinosaurs, I have my own personal group of mercenaries who act as security for me and a group of natives who refused to move despite the dinosaurs, though they don’t mind the electric fences too much.”

I also mentioned my group of Gardevoirs and other related Pokemon.

“Right. About your appearance.”

The Gardevoir let out a quiet cry, Right, that… our group descended from a Pokemon Human Commune.

Randall sat still for a moment, “... humans!?”

Pokemon and Humans were one group it seems. Compatibility has been part of our races since the old days, just that you humans and we Pokemon don’t partake in it as much any more.

“Well.. I think I lost my appetite.”

“Before we let you go,” Lesions started, “I’ll have to check what your choice will be on your future.”

“Oh, that.”

“Right, so I’ve kept you on this island for safe keeping. However, I’m sure just keeping you in a room for your safety surrounded by people to protect you would be boring. I know you have skills as a soldier, as shown by your service record and survival. I’m thinking you join me as a mercenary.”

“A hired gun?”

“We probably only take the lives of bad guys. I’m adverse to atrocities, though I may be forced to commit some, and if you join up with me as a mercenary, we’ll take more minor and safer jobs, like security for VIPs and various areas, or dealing with threats many groups can’t.”

“What are my other options?” Randall inquired as both man and parasite glanced at the dusk outside.

“I keep you here as I said before, or I send you back home, which will be difficult and more dangerous. I understand you’ll need time for it, so you can take that. Hell, take a month or too to think, I’m sure everything so far has been sudden.”

“Right… I’ll do that.”

Description
Part of the J ReVerse Crossover Fanfiction Universe (www.deviantart.com/jmp01/galle… ), so basically a mega mash up of different properties and characters into one big shared multiverse.

Also Part of the fanfic story, SymGen/Symbiogenesis, particularly about two of the characters featured here, Lesion and Randall, located here: www.deviantart.com/jmp01/galle…

This happens some time after the last pic, Lesion the symbiote mercenary has just saved Randall's life and brought him to the dinosaur infested island of Isla Muerta, and some time after the young man has settled in, they have a chat about their situation...

All properties involved belong to their respective owners, I guess I just down the OCs

Also this is gonna be an infodump like in the title, Lesion's gonna exposition with paragraphs and probably clunky dialogue....

--------------------------------

“So, where do you want to start first young man?”

“Well…”

Randall watched as the two other people in the room, Lesion and Diamant, looked at him, able to tell of his current trepidation.

It had only been a day since he had made landfall. Ignoring the fact he had survived what he had just learned was a hit on him, the fact he was being protected by a symbiote, and was now stuck on an island with said symbiote, a Gardevoir with boobs and clothes, a child soldier, and who knows else ignoring the dinosaurs which apparently inhabited this god-forsaken rock… he was actually somewhat fine. Perhaps he got over the stress of this? He glanced outside the large paned window to the sunset washed ocean.

Lesion spoke up first, “Before you answer, how were your accommodations? I know it’s a barebones ass room so…”

“Ah well, it was decent…” Randall answered quickly, glancing away from the sunset outside of the room, “So my first question, who were those guys who attacked me?”

“Right, to be frank, Yakuza punks.”

“... you’re joking.”

Diamant levitated a coffee cup she had on a platter to Lesion, who took a sip.

“Your father had powerful enemies.”

“My dad? But he’s just a war vet…”

“The old man had… quite the history.” The parasite replied curtly.

“You… know him.”

Lesion shifted in the seat as Diamant psychically retrieved the cup. “Friends. Or at least I owe him a debt.”

“For what, that symbiote or something?”

“Oh, you think-” to Randall’s confusion, Lesion chuckled,”Unfortunately, that’s not how this works.”

It took a second as the being’s skin pealed back from his face, and the soldier let out a cry as a head slumped out from the hood, blank and slack jawed. Lesion’s face soon reformed as Randall sank into his seat more.
“W-what the hell?!”

“I’m the suit.” Lesion answered simply, “My species might work like living clothes or weapons, but in actuality, our… creator, made us to be simply, evil parasites who take over hosts. Strings for him to control you meat bags.”

Lesion seemed to smirk as that revelation sank in.

“So…”

“Right, side tracking to the Symbiotes… I guess technically we’re called the “Klyntar”. Our creator was a dark god of the void, made us from liquid shadow and some weird stuff, sent us out to kill or control beings like you for his bidding. Something about hating the light and wanting to corrupt its children. Anyway, us Klyntar eventually rejected and helped seal him away, but perhaps one day he’ll rise back up.”

“Wow, didn’t know you guys were part of an epic.”

“That’s ‘cause that memory was wiped out.”

“... huh?”

“Yeah, our species and our new allies collectively erased the memory of that. Reinvented the who race into benevolent space knights who crusade against space crime.” Lesion’s tone seemed mocking at this point, “For billions of years they’ve basically become space cops. Some exceptions include the symbiotes you know of and me, among others who retain our more sordid routes. Probably doesn’t help us rogues are more famous and we’re nastier. I just happened on this information during my mercenary work years ago.”

“So your kind is really old?” Randall wracked his brain around that.

“We don’t have a definitive age limit I think. Granted I’m not that old I think. Been around since your human’s stone age?”

“Seriously? So you’ve been around since then?”

“Born here. My mama died fleeing… something. Never got to find out. Some stone age kid picked me up and since then I was a weapon, a tool for humanity to use and fight over.”

“... how much to you recall?”

Lesion looked lost in thought for a bit, “...I’ve been used for a lot, didn’t think for my self mostly, and I didn’t keep track so frankly my memories of your history are blurry. Probably didn’t help that being hosted by animals degrades my mind to a more feral state. I do recall being in ancient Mesopotamia, went around Asia a few times, Africa, Middle Ages Europe, then I ended up in the Revolutionary and Civil Wars…”

“How about recent history? As in the 1900s to today? I assume you met my father recently or something?”

“Right. The world wars were my roughest years. Got hooked up to some British soldier the first time. Second I was… host to a female survivor of the camps who went on a blood soaked rampage. Nazi scum...”

“...O-oh, I’m sorry.” Randall looked apologetic, “I didn’t mean to dredge up-”

“Don’t apologize Randall.” Lesion breathed heavily and reclined as Diamant rubbed his shoulders, “The past is the past and I can only move forward. Anyway she died, I was found by the Russians, and shipped off for testing. Later on they for whatever reason shipped me off to help the Viet Cong. One thing led to another, and they decided to give me to a crazed member of the group. Though as it turns out I wasn’t the only symbiote as the Americans had some in the field as well.”

“So you aren’t the first Symbiote here?”

“Probably. Anyway I met your father when my host decided to massacre at a US camp and managed to get Napalm on him. Us symbiotes hate heat like that, so I dipped out and let that bastard die. Your father survived the attack and, with few options for either of us, he became my host.”

“So he… wore you. And then you guys managed to survive that war and return to America then.”

“Yep. And then he did stuff my other hosts hadn’t in more recent decades: He was really nice to me. He was a brave and loyal man among those men in the jungle. Even when he brought me back with him at the end, he never alerted his officers of me. I stayed with him a bit and he taught me to be more independent. He even, though accidentally, found out us symbiotes have a thing for Chocolates.”

“... you do?” Randall asked, stunned.

“Yeah. And brains. Apparently they share a similar compound us symbiotes are addicted to. Anyway we were partners, taking down local crime until he grew older and had a missus. He let me go and I took over a drug baron we had taken down. We kept in touch while I jumped from host to host, doing gig after gig and becoming a mercenary while using my hosts to gain money and skills. Eventually I landed a contract with InGen while they developed Jurassic Park. Though that fell through and I just kept the island after assisting Puerto Rico with some of their… problems. I tend to do that for many clients.”
“You have shown me that you’re resourceful, Lesion.” The human replied.

“Right. So I built up a small base while taking care of the dinosaurs hidden out here, and even assisted InGen again when they got ready to make Jurassic World, and then fell through again. A decade after my last contact with him, your father called me while on his deathbed.”

“Right… I was still missing then.”

“You made big news. Stuck in Afghanistan during the war, went MIA after a mine took your squad out. Yet you survived.”

“Call it luck and god’s will.” Randall replied curtly as his gaze returned to the darkening view outside the large window of the room.

“Must’ve been rough. Anyway when news reached that the Marines found you during a mission. Your father knew he couldn’t meet with you in time and had drawn upon me for a very… personal favor I owed him for everything: Take care of you. He still had enemies even while he was having you, and he knew I could protect you after he died. Said he was proud of you.”

Lesion moved in to comfort the young man, who seemed only to be partially holding up.

“Y-yeah… so how’d you met the kid and the Pokemon?”

Well, Diamant telepathically started, With me, he found me when a bunch of poachers took my family and others in the congo and harvested us for goods…

She shook her fist but went on.

Lesion saved us, part of a mission to deal with the poacher’s boss, some rich fat man. He took us in and I became his personal pokemon partner. Even registered as a trainer, not that he’ll use me in battle.

“Don’t you wild pokemon dislike humanity’s whole Pokemon Training and Battle stuff?” Lesion spoke up.

Depends.

“As for the kid… well, met Chabod on a mission too. African Warlord with thousands of child soldiers. Managed to take the kid with me after I slew that piece of work. I haven’t had the time to demilitarize Chabod so he’s been hanging around as a sort of guard.” The symbiote sighed, “Training’s too ingrained in him anyway, but I don’t plan on throwing his life away by making him another mercenary on this island.”

“So who else will I meet here?” Randall asked.

“Besides the dinosaurs, I have my own personal group of mercenaries who act as security for me and a group of natives who refused to move despite the dinosaurs, though they don’t mind the electric fences too much.”

I also mentioned my group of Gardevoirs and other related Pokemon.

“Right. About your appearance.”

The Gardevoir let out a quiet cry, Right, that… our group descended from a Pokemon Human Commune.

Randall sat still for a moment, “... humans!?”

Pokemon and Humans were one group it seems. Compatibility has been part of our races since the old days, just that you humans and we Pokemon don’t partake in it as much any more.

“Well.. I think I lost my appetite.”

“Before we let you go,” Lesions started, “I’ll have to check what your choice will be on your future.”

“Oh, that.”

“Right, so I’ve kept you on this island for safe keeping. However, I’m sure just keeping you in a room for your safety surrounded by people to protect you would be boring. I know you have skills as a soldier, as shown by your service record and survival. I’m thinking you join me as a mercenary.”

“A hired gun?”

“We probably only take the lives of bad guys. I’m adverse to atrocities, though I may be forced to commit some, and if you join up with me as a mercenary, we’ll take more minor and safer jobs, like security for VIPs and various areas, or dealing with threats many groups can’t.”

“What are my other options?” Randall inquired as both man and parasite glanced at the dusk outside.

“I keep you here as I said before, or I send you back home, which will be difficult and more dangerous. I understand you’ll need time for it, so you can take that. Hell, take a month or too to think, I’m sure everything so far has been sudden.”

“Right… I’ll do that.”