The breathtaking display of the hall, as well as the design and formality of the rest of the castle, was completely lost on Ruben. From the rugged terrain of Russia to the cramped XCOM HQ deep underground, he had lived around bare metal and exposed bulbs for most of his life. There was too much space here, too much grandeur and show, and the only thing that really mattered was how undefended the place was. Decorative glass instead of bulletproof. Marble and granite instead of concrete and rebar. Certainly he had never seen anything like it, but he wasn't here to swoon. He was here to fight.

Somewhat to his disappointment, there was no fighting to be had here. Ruben lifted his rifle, which he had been carrying in both arms, with one hand and slid it onto a magnetic lock on the back of his armor. It weighed at least fifteen pounds combat loaded, but he barely noticed the weight, considering how heavy his standard body armor already was. He looked up to see who would be in charge of the briefing and blinked in surprise. This was no commanding officer or council member. He resembled an animated cartoon version of a human, and for a moment Ruben wasn't sure if he should salute or not. Was he really going to take orders from this...individual? Or, for that matter, regard him at all? He didn't seem to possess any kind of authority or capability to lead. He more resembled a mascot than anything else. But he was holding a tablet and he was standing in the center of the room.

The Council had warned him that things here would be abnormal, though, and that he was expected to stay in line and obey orders. It didn't matter where he was or who he was with. He was a soldier, and part of being a soldier is respecting authority. Ruben forced his personal opinions from his mind and straightened his back, placing his feet parallel to each other and raising his right hand to his head in a formal Russian salute.

“Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Welcome! Please, make yourselves comfortable and don’t be afraid to dig in (cause this might be your last supper), ha, ha, ha! I assure you that none of the food is radioactive. I checked it myself!”

Ruben didn't move. He wasn't hungry, but more than that he wasn't particularly comfortable, and the possibility that the food may contain radiation did not ease his mind.

“We have a few things to discuss before you all are on your way so please quickly find a seat. We’ll start in five minutes.”

Finally, some actual instructions. Ruben slid into the seat all the way to the right of the table, drawing his rifle and resting it on the floor so that the barrel was within easy reach of his hand. He glanced over the food set in front of him and was in the process of removing his gloves when he was approached by a Lemming, though he had never seen one and almost mistook it as an alien. Instinctively he placed a hand on the pistol strapped to his leg, but he stopped himself, instead patting the holster as if to confirm it still existed. The creature was unarmed. It seemed amiable, and after a few moments Ruben realized it was asking him for a drink order. He had no idea what beverages existed, so he decided to wing it.

"Gatorade..." Ruben grunted, trying to determine how he should address the creature, eventually settling on "...please." He had no idea if it existed in this world, but it was what he drank back at XCOM. The lemming scurried off, leaving Ruben to re-examine the food on the table. A stack of meat and cheese sandwiches (tomatoes and lettuce included) caught his eye. He was a simple man who enjoyed simple food. He also enjoyed a lot of food, and claimed three of them before beginning his meal. He was aware that he hadn't greeted anyone else, but it didn't matter that much. There would be time for formal introductions later, he was sure. Right now he needed fuel and a briefing, so he kept his focus exclusively on his food and Vault Boy.

---

---

Nothing.

Six's magic did nothing against Darion, as the horseman sliced through the serpents with ease. Before she could teleport away, Slayer had called out to her and the others.

”There are some battles that cannot be won on their own. Consider exchanging opponents if you can't make any progress.”

The child nodded back to the vampire, but Darion's own black magic grabbing her by the collar got her attention back.

Six struggled to release herself out of the horseman's grip, yet it was to no avail. Darion's magic was stronger, and her's was more recent. The child looked back to the rest of her team to see Akira and Heavy having trouble with their opponents aswell. The executor's armor didnt even dent from Joker's gun, and Giggles only, well, giggled at Heavy, taunting him.

Once the child involuntarily reached the horseman, Darion seemed to shake his head in dissapointment.

"I was raised back to undeath by black magic, child. Yours is no threat to me in this or any world.

Six only growled at him in reply, before she was thrown aside. Luckly, Akira caught her, yet Darion followed behind, almost slashing the child if not The PA reminding the horseman of the "no killing" rule. She got back to her feet and hid behind Joker, who decided to go for Slayer's plan to exchange opponents.

With Heavy taking Darion, Six went against Akira's opponent, the executor. Like a conductor, the child summoned back two serpent like slivers of her dark magic. Yet once executor tried to go in for a strike, she dissapeared in a dark puff of smoke. After a few seconds or so, Six reappeared behind him and allowed her magic to strike, in hopes of draining his life force.

---

---

---

---

---

It wasn't out of the ordinary to see a nerdy turtle riding a cloud, yet the letter they had for Cuphead and Mugman read a new adventure, away from Inkwell. While Cuphead was up for more excitement, Mugman had objected to risking his life again.

The brothers talked out what to do, and it was decided that Cuphead would be the one to leave. So promising to come back home in one piece, he circled "yes" on the paper with a pen.

Arriving in Platform City, Cuphead was awestruck at how busy and big the place was, way different from what he was used to. Exploring around for a while, he decided to make a stop at a nearby inn, The Save Point.

"Hell- oh?" He said, quickly lowering his voice to a loud whisper when he noticed most of the tenants asleep. Cuphead quietly walked around till he took notice of three others awake.

"Oh, finally! Thought I was the only one awake!" Cuphead said, picking up the pace to Shantae, Drax and Bentley. Said scientist had introduced himself and asked about their mission. "Oh golly, I should've introduced myself first before bargin' in, should I? The name's Cuphead! Guess we're all here for the same reason, eh?" he asked, before turning to Shantae. "Assuming you're here cause of the Mugen Virus problem too, miss, ya seem pretty strong."

The trip back to Tetris Castle for James was silent and, well, rather dull, but all's well that ends well and all that jazz. The contagion had been contained, despite the unnecessary loss of civilian life, and they hadn't immediately been laid into by Guile, which was also a plus. Once they'd reached the castle, he headed up to the Council's room when directed there by one of the Lemmings. The Nightstalker wasn't honestly sure what to expect when he got there, but he supposed that didn't matter at the end of the day, because it was a mission success in his book, even if he might not have done it by the book.

The only person to have beat the Guardian there, which was of little surprise, was Guile himself, and after taking a seat, the others trickled in before the blonde soldier spoke. His words were surprising, and there was none of the tongue lashing that he would have expected from a man with an attitude like Vanguard Commander Zavala's. Still, he wasted no time standing when Guild finished. "I don't have any questions, but I would like to say that Moneybags told Steve that the reason he did what he did with Gnasty Gnorc was for money, plain and simple. I don't know if that was the truth, but that was what he shared just before the martial artist knocked his greedy ass out. I'm heading to the Save Point Inn to meet with Sparx, see if we can offer Spyro some help in...I think it was Dragon World. Something like that."

It was a short and quick trip back down for the Nightstalker, using the teleporting elevator thing to get to the bottom floor. Rest was the last thing James needed with what could be potentially another crisis in another world happening. "You know, sleep wouldn't hurt you at this point. You've been fighting hard all night." The Guardian shrugged, running towards the Inn and following directions he got from passersby to get there.

"Later, Charger. We need to find out what's going on." The time to reach the Save Point Inn had been about half an hour with his unfamiliarity with the streets, but he found it and walked in. Noting the sleeping patrons, he quietly searched for the dragon fly until he found the purple haired girl from the Smash Arena, a talking turtle in a wheel chair and-"OK, this guy with the cup for a head is testing my suspension of disbelief."

"Can't believe I'm the one saying this, but shush." James approached the group and removed his helmet, offering a smile. "Good to see you made it out of there in one piece there, Sparx."

---

The former courier had seen many different kinds of buildings back when he worked for the now deceased Girouette, ranging from from state halls that had soaring roofs and painted ceilings to the humblest shack, made of little more than some cheap alloy that the owners could barely afford. As a member of the Guardians, he'd stormed so many more types of buildings, from factories that churned out the mavericks he fought to what had essentially equated to a flying palace, with overly dressed up walls and filled to the brim with enemies he'd already bested.

Tetris Castle, however, was something new. On the one hand, Vent had heard stories of the old world before the creation of Reploids and the beginnings of Maverick attacks, with large buildings similar to the castle he now strode through to reach the reception hall. The Guardians wasted no time in requesting an official place within the castle in order to lend some of their unique brand of research and technology to that being used already, plus it had given Vent, who had volunteered to be the primary combat support, a way to stay in contract with the majority of the Guardians as well as Prairie.

He approached the hall today in the appearance of Model ZX, energy humming through his body as he pushed the door open. He had not been the first, as there was a small crowd gathered just a short distance from the doors, but he didn't seem to be the last, and he took his place amongst those gathered, one hand resting on his belt. After Vault Boy had said what he had to say, the Megaman, or Chosen One depending on who you asked, took a seat an equal distance from the two people who'd stuck out to him the most after ordering a soda from one of the Lemmings.

The first was a girl with long, well cared for aquamarine hair, who had been carrying a lance until they were told to enjoy the food. He wondered briefly if Model L would like her, but decided against that. The weapon of choice for Model L was a dual sided Halberd that really was at it's deadliest under water. The other wore armor that the Megaman had never seen before and carried a rifle of unfamiliar design. The pair had both left their weapons where they wouldn't necessarily get in the way, but Vent had his on his hip, currently in Megabuster mode. It was essentially a large pistol in that form, and so he had very little in concerns to what others would think of him keeping it.

After receiving his drink, Vent took some ham, a couple of rolls, and a sandwich before beginning to eat, as he was eager to get going.

Just as the sun was setting Piper’s ship came in for landing, the antique and haphazardly maintained royalist spaceforce cargo hauler. Not made for planetary landings, the steam powered ship creaked and groaned in protest as it was gingerly set down by its pilot. Standing just behind that pilot was the captain of the ship, Piper Faraday.

“An excellent landing Wonkey”

“Thanks piper. I’ll be honest, it was touch and go for a bit. Never had a chance to land on a planet before after all. “Hope you don’t tellin me all about what being on one is like when you get back captain?” responded the pilot, who was welded to the chair dangling before the wheel of the ship.

“I’ll do just that”



Piper bade farewell to wonky and climbed down the ladder at the far end of the bridge that lead to the level that featured the crew quarters and main airlock. There the rest of the small ships crew was gathered.

“Alright gentlemen, the rest of you get shore leave while I go find out what the council needs me for.” she addressed them, referring to the message they had received earlier that day. “Enjoy yourselves, but please try not to start any trouble” With that said she opened up the hatch leading to the outside and stepped out into platform city, which was for the moment decked out in christmas spirit and with the evening dark coming in places around the town where lit up with lights of all colours. As she headed for the castle her crew dispersed among the crowds.

After a brief delay caused by an argument with a mechent over what they would accept as currency (water no, bullets yes, something Piper found rather absurd) she arrived at the entrance to the castle now wearing a santa hat in place of her captains hat. She had no understanding of the meaning of the headgear, but every steambot worth their coal knows a nice headpiece when they see one.

Piper wasn’t one for architecture, but she had to admit the castle was impressive, dwarfing even the royal palace/space station of the red queen that she and her crew had stormed some time ago. Hopefully this once contained no ancient threats to accidentally unleash. She was lead through the grand halls by a small creature of some kind that seemed to be wearing a green mophead as a hat. She liked its style.

Once she entered the room it became clear that her hat purchasing adventure had made her a little late, most of the other seats at the table seemed to be already taken. She quickly found a place herself and, after some confusion from the lemming, got them to acquire some water and coal for her, which she used to restock her boiler.



Taric, by divine coincidence, happened to enter the Save Point Inn just a little after Shantae had amassed a crowd of heros around her. He had spent the time since they seperated turisting about the city, visiting various concept art galleries, parks and other places of beauty, and was just now arriving at the inn he was planning to spend the night in.

“Hello again miss Shantae, it is good to see you.”



After Guile had ordered them all to the 49th floor she had shoved the bag into her inventory and headed off there with the others. She she arrived she had hoped onto the first table she could find and popped the bag down onto it, helpful informing them that ”I brought you a thing”.

Naija’s attempt at distracting the scientists failed, and so she still had to go through the medical check like everyone else, much to her chagrin. After a debriefing filled with plenty of words she did not understand like like “fan bases” and “illegal” during which she spent most of the time twirling the mystery vehicle key around on her for finger, she returned to the 49th floor. There she went and found the scientist who had investigated the bag thing.

”Did you happen to find out anything interesting Dr. Solus? Also, can I keep the bag if you are done with it?”

Thankfully, if unsurprisingly, Frisk’s gambit for humorous diplomacy seemed to work--at least well enough to get his/herself past. All it took was some low-hanging punny humor that all but wrote itself. Now, everyone else just had to do the same and they could move forward without resistance. If the two bosses were as easily amused as impressions would suggest, then it shouldn’t be that hard to get a qualifying laugh out of them… for everyone but the two more tonally serious characters in the room, that is. They, specifically, were probably under far more pressure to perform, being out of their element and all. It’s said that comedy of harder to write for a reason, but who knows? Perhaps, it was merely assumed that their sense of humor would be woefully lacking. Maybe, there was a chance that they could end up surprising everyone, and they would get their chance to do so after the lawyer, who visibly struggled to come up with anything that might work.

“Here’s a joke: You’re funny,” said the breegull sarcastically, deriding the lawyer for his attempt at humor. He was bombing, and he knew it. The party’s survival hinged on everyone’s individual comedic success, yet there Kazooie was halfway to proverbially booing the man off stage. Then, he dropped an actual punchline, and then to his knees, clearly lacking any confidence in his chances.

“Hmm… maybe you guys should have mercy on him,” Banjo petitioned, hoping to bail the lawyer out. “I mean, he already looks beat. Why blow someone up if they’ve already blown i-” He was stopped just shy of finishing his appeal by the delighted giggling that proved it to be unnecessary, as seemed to have gone unnoticed through, anyhow.

“Okay, I’ll give him that one.”

“Well… as long as it works for them…”

Eyes then fell on the swordsman, who was too absorbed in thought to notice right away. In all likelihood, he was still trying to think of something funny--at least by some remotely passable definition of such--but one of the Bros quickly began to grow impatient with him. Tensions escalated to a frightening high when he threatened to bomb the remaining party as his brother talked him down from it. Eventually, the mercenary delivered. In line with every other joke told up to that point, it was painfully bad, but it became apparent that it was exactly what they needed when he had them falling on their back with uncontrollable laughter. At some point after that, the duo’s turn finally came around.

“I guess we’re up. You remember any good--or bad--jokes?”

“Yeah. I think I know what we’re going for here.” While she didn’t appreciate being mistakenly referred to as a “chicken”, Kazooie understood the circumstantial need to repress her characteristic urge to fire off insults in response. As difficult as it may be to dodge such a habit, it was important to remember that this wasn’t their game anymore. They were unscripted now, so she didn’t have to start fights (not that it would always unfailingly occur to her).

“Just try to keep it safe for work,” Banjo reminded. They were E-rated mascots in an E-rated world, after all.

“Alright. What’s big, white, heavy, and can’t climb trees?”

During the brief pause, Banjo pondered on what the answer might actually be. Boggy? Mrs. Boggy? Groggy? The latter in particular stuck out in his mind with the keyword ‘heavy’ as a reminder of the time he had to physically carry him to the Witchyworld exit. Then again, they all fit that description. Big. White. Heavy. Probably couldn’t climb trees since they were polar bears. It didn’t really matter either way. This wasn’t a puzzle or life/death trivia question like he was used to, and none of those answers made sense as a punchline. He was clearly overthinking it. Three seconds pass.

“A fridge.”

Of course. An anti-joke. A loaded setup with an absurdly obvious answer intended to subvert the idea behind it. It would probably work, though. However, a simple inventory malfunction threatened to jeopardize their efforts. Banjo noticed Frisk scrambling to relocate the loose explosive to minimize the damage done as well as just getting it safely away from everyone else. It didn’t seem advisable to leave them to take care of it alone, even if by some chance s/he knew what s/he was doing.

“Erm… Kazooie? We should probably-”

“Hang on. I’ve got one more,” Kazooie interjected in a subdued chuckle, failing to even so much as notice, let alone acknowledge, the fact that a CHILD just passed them handling explosive ordinance. “How did the hipster burn himself?”

…

“He drank his coffee before it was cool.”

---

Through their laughter, the second Poppy bro began to quiet as he heard a distinct hiss. He knew that hiss anywhere. Hopping up to his feet, he whirled and saw the bomb fizzling next to his bro. “Look out you idiot! You dropped a live one!” he warned.

Before the first poppy bro could react, the child was on it picking up the bomb and running with it. The Poppy Bros watched in amazement as Frisk risked their life to dispose of the deadly explosive. They threw it into the stairwell and shot a strange projectile at it that caused it to blow, cracking the walls and steps but not bringing down the entire stairwell like Marx’s defeat. The soldier had ran over to shield the child from any aftershock or debris that might have projected from the blast. The bros left the Bear and Bird just as the Bird was rattling off some jokes. They quickly waddled over to surround Frisk and Alicia, their black beady eyes glimmering in amazement.

“You saved my bro,” said the second Poppy bro. He then raised his yellow mitten covered hand and shook his head at Alicia. All of the joke telling was over now. “You could have harmed us while we weren’t payin’ attention and made off to the fourth floor.”

The first Poppy bro’s eyes glazed over and welled with tears. He sniffed and started crying. “And I wanted to bomb dem!” He flung himself down at Frisk’s feet and begged, “I’m so sorry. Forgive me!”

The second Poppy bro shook his head and frowned. “Get up you meat head!” He then hopped back so he had the full room’s attention. “No more funny business [duh dum tish!]. We was gonna go on vacation but now we gotta pay you guys back.”

The first Poppy Bro peered over his shoulder, his eyes still glistening, “We do?”

“’Course we do dummy! We’ll get you guys through the fourth floor. Our old pal Fatty is there.”

The first Poppy bro stood up and waddled to stand next to his brother. “You think Fatty will let them pass? They wanna kill da boss.”

The second Poppy bro closed his eyes and frowned in thought. He then spoke his meditations aloud, “The boss hasn’t been himself lately. It’s kinda’ creepy. Ever since he got those powers, he’s been trynna’ take over the world. I don’t think I like it.”

The first Poppy bro trembled at his brother’s words. “Bro, you’re speakin’ treason,” he whispered.

“Yeah, well, what does he do for us? We stay down here all day, trynna’ come up with stuff to do as we wait for Kirby. IF Kirby even comes, and then he’ll more than likely kill us like he did to the last guys, and that’s a wrap! You wanna die meathead?”

The first bro shook his head. “Not really…”

“Let’s just help these folks out and then me and you can go on vacation. We could use it.”

The first Poppy bro glanced over at the heroes and then at his bro before he finally smiled and gave in. “D’aw right.”

The second Poppy Bro nodded and faced the group. “That settles it. Follow us. We’ll get you through the fourth floor.”

The Senior Bros started waddling for the exit doors that appeared in a small puff of smoke at the end of the room. The heroes would venture down another winding staircase and would arrive at a doorway that bore no doors. The smell of salt was a thick aroma on the air. It was damp...water? The fourth floor was made entirely of water, but the water was unusual. It was pitch-black and appeared bottomless. The entire floor was one narrow dock that led from one side of the room to the next. The rest of the level was all water.

“Here we are! Da fourth floor!” the first Senior Bro informed.

The second bro raised his yellow mitten hands to his mouth and called, “Fatty! Hey Fatty! It’s us, the Senior Bros!”

The surface of the pool suddenly burst as a plump blue whale leapt over the heroes with…was that a pipe clenched between its teeth? He gazed at the heroes and the Senior bros as he soared over them before plunging into the water on the other side of the dock. Reemerging, the whale paddled over to the group and inflated its personified cheeks, forcing air through his pipe to clear it on a small geyser.

“What’s up Senior Bros?” the whale greeted. His voice oddly deep like a 1970s soul singer.

The Senior bros faced the heroes with a smile. “Hey everyone, this is Fatty.”

The whale raised a small fin and waved at them.

“Fatty, we need to pass,” said the second Senior Bro.

The whale glanced at the heroes, rolling the pipe between his teeth. “Hm…aren’t they trynna’ kill the king?”

The second Bro smiled sheepishly. “Well, you see, what happened was we were joking around, tellin’ some jokes when my bros bomb fell out of his pocket. I thought for sure they would try to pull a fast one and kill us, but they didn’t. They saved my bro’s life, so I think they’re actually good guys and deserve a pass.”

Fatty frowned, twirling his pipe between his lips.

The first Bro nodded. “Duh, I saw dem do it wit’ me own eyes! Dey saved me!”

Fatty stopped twirling his pipe and then nodded. “Sounds cool. I can dig it. Sure. I’ll let the playas pass. I gotta warn ya though. Those other guys aren’t as cool as me, know what I’m sayin’?”

The second Bro arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Those guys are mean. They support the king and won’t let nobody pass without a fight.”

The second Bro brought a mitten to his chin as he hummed to himself. He then faced the heroes and said, “Well, this is where we part. Fatty will let you guys pass. I don’t know who works the third floor, but if they’re as mean as he says, then good luck.”

The first Bro gazed at the heroes as beads of tears appeared in his eyes. “I hope you guys make it to da end. Thank you for savin’ me.”

---

GM Note: From here on out, all players will be required to keep track of their word count. XP will be awarded every GM post. Be sure to check the XP hider to see how much XP your character earned. Remember to keep your CSes updated. I have seen players slack in keeping their XP up-to-date and they have lost XP points because of it. I didn't take the XP away from them, they just didn't keep track of the XP on their own. It is YOUR responsibility if you want your character to level.




If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Frisk, Alicia Harnick, Phoenix Wright, Banjo & Kazooie, and Cloud.

---

Vault Boy glanced around at the guests who had gathered with his hands happily on his hips. “Well that looks like everyone!”

A green-haired, sleepy-eyed Lemming walked over to Vault Boy and tugged his pants leg. Vault Boy peered down at the creature with raised brows before he knelt, turning an ear to the creature as it whispered something in his ear. Vault Boy jumped to his feet with a gasp. “You’re right. I completely forgot!”

Vault Boy raised his hands as a neon-orange panel appeared before them. He slid a few circles here and there, and poked at a few buttons. Behind him, the large screen began to flicker, revealing a pair of zoomed-in blue eyes beneath two red finely waxed brows. A female voice was heard through the reception hall’s surround sound.

“I-I think I finally see someone. Just barely,” came Kinzie Kensington.

“You broke it!” came a male voice behind her.

Kinzie angrily glared over her shoulder and yelled, “How did I break it when I just fixed it?”

Vault Boy attempted to fix the flickering problem with the screen and once the flickering ceased, the guests were able to see a red-headed woman in a blue space suit. Behind her were three lengthy couches—two facing each other and one facing the screen. Sitting on the center couch was a built man with brown hair, blue eyes, and a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. He was sitting wide-legged with his arms stretched out across the back of the couch. To the right of him was Shaundi. Standing behind his couch with his arms crossed was Johnny Gat. On the couch to the right of him were two black males, Pierce and Benjamin “Muthafuckin’” King. Across from them was Asha Odekar and Matt Miller. Standing behind their couch was Keith David. Kinzie smiled when the screen finally stopped flickering.

“Okay! I got it!” she explained. “Hello? Can you hear me in there?”

Vault Boy turned around to face the screen. “Loud and clear! Is the president with you?”

The man seated in the center raised his hand. “Yep…” he sounded so enthusiastic.

Vault Boy then faced the guests at the table and clapped his hands together. “Great! We can begin then.”

Kinzie quickly rounded the coffee table as though a movie were about to start and plopped on the couch to the left of the president.

“Hey, what is dis thing about any way?” Johnny Gat asked.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Mr. President replied.

“Will you two be quiet! We’re about to find out!” Kinzie exclaimed.

“Yeah!” Pierce quietly instigated.

Mr. President scowled over at him. “Pierce, shut up...”

“You shut up!”

Johnny Gat shook his head. “All right, both you idiots shut the fuck up!”

“Shut up!”

The entire room became loud with yelling and Kinzie pressed her hands to her face to hide her embarrassment. Pillow cushions started flying across the room. Asha began yelling at the boys to stop acting like children. Suddenly a loud blaster went off in the room. Everyone immediately went wide-eyed and silent. They glanced over to the reformed Mr. King as he held up a blaster. Once everyone was quiet, he set the gun in his lap and waved his hand toward the screen.

“Let the man speak…” he calmly said.

Vault Boy was standing there with a blank expression. He blinked and then cleared his throat. “O…kay. Ahem, all right. So, The Council has called everyone here because there’s a situation going down in the land of Skyrim.”

As Vault Boy began to explain, a hologram appeared over the banquet table showing a snowy land covered in forests. He continued, “Deep in the region known as ‘The Reach’ is a barbaric clan called the Forsworn. The Forsworn have warred for many years here in order to claim one of the largest cities in Skryim. That city is Markarth. The Forsworn have succeeded. The Jarl of The Reach—basically, their king—Hrolfdir, sent us a distress message. I will play the message for you now.” GM Note: This is taking place before the Markarth Incident. This is when the Forsworn first claim Markath.

The Forsworn have come and never have they been so strong...

The President returned from having gotten up and went to the kitchen. He reclaimed his spot, plopping down on the couch with a big bag of potato chips. The bag crackled loudly as he parted an opening in it. A few of the Saints’s heads turned for the noise was muffling the message. He reached into the bag and pinched a few chips between his fingers before he tossed the salty potato crisps into his mouth. His loud munching irritated Kinzie to the point she snatched the bag from him and set it on her side of the couch.

“What?” Mr. President asked irritably.

Kinzie frowned at him and whispered, “Ssh! We can’t hear!”

“I don’t care. Give me the bag!” he whispered back.

“No!”

The president then reached across Kinzie’s lap while she pressed her hand against his face in order to keep him from getting to the bag.

…They come led by gods made of steel. The steel gods have managed to command the dragons! We cannot hold! By the time anyone gets this, I fear Markarth may no longer be in my control. What do they want? The mines? The silver? What do they want!? –Message ends.

Vault Boy resumed, “Gods of steel sounded fishy to us. We suspected that this was not a normal occurrence in the Skyrim gameverse. The Council has called you heroes here to investigate the situation. Find out what happened in Markarth and figure out what the steel gods were searching for. You will meet a man by the name of Ulfric Stormcloak who is plotting to take back the city with his militia. As mentioned before, there are dragons in this world. They aren’t normal dragons either. They are very intelligent. Supposedly, if you know their language, then you can cast powerful spells with it. Sounds cool, huh?”

“It’s going to be pretty cold, so I hope you guys are prepared!”

“Cold? I ain’t goin’,” said Pierce.

Johnny Gat grasped his chin and smirked. He thought aloud, “I wonder what it feels like to punch a dragon.”

Having given up on the chip bag, Mr. President scowled and rose from the couch. “Whatever. Have fun Gat.”

“Actually! Excuse me?” Vault Boy called.

Mr. President paused mid-step and glanced over at the screen.

“The Council specifically called for The President of the United States to handle this problem.”

“HAAAA! OH SHIT!” Pierce yelled in amusement. He covered his mouth and slapped his knee.

Mr. President blinked as though he didn’t hear Vault Boy right. “…What? Well, I mean…technically the United States no longer exists. Earth blew up. So I’m no longer the president! Ha! I’m not going.”

He attempted to walk away again when Vault Boy smirked and added, “The Emperor of the Zin; The Leader of the Third Street Saints…”

Mr. President was finding it harder and harder to creep away the more Vault Boy continued to specify who he was talking about. He eventually just stopped and glared down at the floor as Pierce pointed at him, “That’s you! That’s so you!”

Closing his eyes, Mr. President threw back his head and muttered, “Fuck me…”

The Saints all rose off the couches and took their leave slapping him on the shoulder as they left. Kinzie passed him and smashed the chip bag against his chest. She then smiled holding up her index finger. “Don’t forget to wear that Christmas sweater I made for you!”

The president’s nose wrinkled. “But it’s ugly!”

Sighing, he walked back over to the screen and sat on the coffee table. He looked closely at the Reception Hall. His mouth fell open in surprise, “What? You guys got food in there? Nobody said there was gonna be food!”

“It’s not like you can eat it!” Shaundi yelled.

Nodding as he remembered, he passed a handful of potato chips into his mouth and stammered, “You right.”

Vault Boy faced the guests. “Questions, comments, criticisms, speculations?”

Everything seemed to be move in slow motion, and yet happen very quickly, after Frisk shot SOUL bullet at the bomb. One moment they were standing there, watching the yellow dart of light fly through the air, prepared to dodge as best as they can. However, they felt a hand a grasp their shoulder, and then the next, they were held in an embrace as Alicia shielded them from any shockwave and debris from the explosion. When the explosion seemed to have finish in that moment, and the area had silenced, they looked up to Alicia in a bit of surprise and awe, and they answered her as the ringing faded, "Thank you, Alicia,"

Frisk saw movement in the corners of their eyes and they looked to see that it was the Poppy Bros. They listened as the second brother spoke about how they could have chosen to kill them when they weren't paying attention, but instead chose to save them. They looked to the first Poppy Bro when they heard sniffling, and they were surprised to see the Poppy Bro fall in front of their feet and apologize so fervently. Frisk tried to calm the brother, "Hey, it's okay. It's alright,"

Frisk's attention soon diverted to the second brother who told the first to get up and then hopped to the center of the room saying that they were going to repay the favor by getting them through the fourth floor. Apparently a friend of theirs was there. They were silent as the brothers spoke to each other, the first questioning the second over the possibility that they were betraying Dedede. The fact that the King was acting strangely and hadn't treated the brothers well seemed to help convince them to help the party.

When the brothers told the group to follow them, and the door appeared, Frisk nodded with a smile and followed the brothers, knowing that Alicia, Cloud, Phoenix, and Banjo Kazooie would follow them.

As they made their way down the stairs, Frisk noticed the air became damp, just like it did when Frisk visited the Underground's Waterfall area. The only difference between here and there was that the air here was thick with the scent of salt. So...the water in this area is sea water? That had to be the reason why. It made Frisk curious as to who Fatty was.

Soon enough, the group and the Poppy Brothers reached the Fourth floor, which was nothing but a dock road over a black sea. Frisk looked to the brothers as the second started calling out for Fatty. Suddenly the surface was breached and Frisk watched in awe and amazement, their mouth now a wide open smile, as a giant blue whale leaped up into the air and soared above the eight of them before landing in the water again, and resurfacing to meet them.

After the Senior Brothers officially introduced Fatty, and while the whale waved a fin at them, Frisk waved back at Fatty in kind as though to say "Nice to meet you!" to Fatty.

The child listened as the brothers spoke with Fatty and explained what happened and why they wanted to give the group a free pass. Thankfully, Fatty seemed okay with the idea after the First Poppy Brother backed the Second Poppy Brother's words. They listened as Fatty gave the warning that the other bosses coming up were not going to be as friendly as him and the Poppy Brothers.

Frisk looked to the Poppy Brothers when they said that it was time to part and said their well-wishes and good byes. Frisk nodded to them and answered "Thank you for your help and the warning, you guys. We really appreciate it," When the first Poppy Brother thanked Frisk for saving him, they answered "Don't worry about it! I'm glad you're not hurt," They then said to the brothers, showing a wide smile of genuine kindness and happiness, "You guys take care! Have a fun vacation, alright?"

They then turned to the rest of the group, "Let's get going everyone!"

The fact that they had managed to spare three lives filled Frisk with DETERMINATION!

---

Shantae immediately spotted the dragonfly out of all of the sleeping customers, and she let out a sigh of relief (that she didn't realize she had been holding). After Sparx asked if everything was okay and what had happened, Shantae nodded and started "Yeah, everything's alright now. How about you?" Before she could continue and talk about what happened, a talking turtle in some kind of mechanical moving chair approached the both of them first, and introduced himself as Bentley. Huh...he reminded Shantae of Hypno Baron and Techno Baron combined. Maybe he was a distant cousin? So he was here to help with the Mugen Viruses. After he asked if she just came back from a mission herself, she started "I...wouldn't call it a mission but yes, I did just come back from something important,"

Before she could even think of introducing herself, another person entered the room. Shantae turned to see...what the heck? The guy had a cup for a head...

...What?

Okay, she was sure that this guy would throw her zombie friend, Rottytops, for a loop. Did he even have a brain? Was the liquid inside the cuphead the brain?

She shook her head, getting rid of the morbidly curious thoughts, and listened as the guy introduced himself as...Cuphead. That was a fitting name...

After he asked if they were all here for the Mugen Virus, Shantae nodded to Cuphead and answered in a friendly manner, "Yeah, so far, we're all here for the Mugen Virus,"

She then looked to see James enter and he started speaking with Sparx, she wanted to go up to him and thank him for his help earlier back in the Arena, but first, she needed to introduce herself to the two who initiated the conversation with her. She started "It's nice to meet you, Bentley and Cuphead. My name is--"

Before she could finish, a familiar voice spoke up, calling her by name, and she looked to see that the source was none other than Taric. She greeted "Oh! Hi Taric," She then asked "I'm guessing you're here to help out as well? You've got really good timing!"

How did he know? Unless it was all coincidental?

One by one other guests arrived to the banquet. Azura cast them discreet glances in the hopes of attaining a shadow of an idea of who she might be working with, but never did she allow her eyes much of an opportunity to get her caught staring. These people served as foreign dignitaries as much as they did potential heroes, and any kind of impropriety on her part would not stand. In fact, worry began to gnaw at her that she'd been too forward already in seating herself and beginning to pick at her food. She managed to keep her composure in the ensuing minutes while the other newcomers trickled in and gave attention to the feast, noticing that fewer came than she might have thought. A small team, she realized. Is my first endeavor to be some sort of critical operation? The answer, she knew, would arrive in mere moments, so she resolved to continue her wait.

When heroes' host judged it to be the time to start, he began to tinker at something before him, and using some magic with which Azura was unfamiliar, conjured a two-dimensional image on a large, mysterious black panel above and behind him. The image moved, displaying its contents just like a window that linked to a far-away place, and after some surprise Azura decided that it must be some sort of enchanted portal. On second thought, something similar to a scrying mirror or an oversized, flattened crystal ball seemed more reasonable. Either way, it now portrayed a group of people, their clothing another novelty to the songstress. Yet, for all their serious bearing and impressive garb, they set to bickering almost like children. Azura blinked in confusion. Surely the issue we've been called to attend is a serious matter? These people lack any sort of gravitas... Their disorder swelled into a full-on riot, even if just for a moment, forcing her to look away in embarrassment. Then there came a loud, sharp noise through the mirror that stunned the other group into silence, allowing Vault Boy to speak. Clasping her hands, Azura rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward to listen.

Some sort of projection magic, rather like the spirit summoning of Hoshidan diviners but in the form of terrain rather than animals, appeared over the table. It assembled a landscape bound in winter, full of pines and dotted by mountains. Azura watched it like a hawk while the explanation proceeded. So, there is some sort of rogue element in this region, Skyrim. I don't follow completely, but our host seems to be saying that there are forces not of that world attacking it, or helping factions in it to attack one another. What Vault Boy said about dragons worried her the most by far. In the world she hailed from, dragons were powerful beings often worshipped and feared as gods, beyond the comprehension of most mortals—terrifying forces of nature. Their machinations created and sustained continents and civilizations, pitted them against one another or fostered peace, and ultimately demanded heroes to challenge them when dragonkind's degenerative madness eventually took hold. From what she heard, it sounded like dragons were common in this world. I hope that means they aren't as comparable to gods as the dragons in mine.

One last problem concerned her: the declaration that their destination would be a cold one. As was plain to see, Azura was not dressed for it, even more modestly garbed now than usual. The people on the other side of the mirror fell to arguing, and Vault Boy turned back to those in the reception hall to ask if anyone had questions. Tentatively, Azura raised her hand. ”Er, yes. Where could I find...better winter clothing?”

---

Just as the yellow dragonfly inquired about Shantae’s well-being, they were approached by several other characters—characters he had never seen before. Sparx quietly hovered before them unsure of what to say. He felt like the stranger, but it didn’t seem as though Shantae knew them either. A familiar soldier entered the Save Point then. As he removed his helmet and broke the ice with his greeting, Sparx smiled brightly.

“Warrior, you made it!” he happily exclaimed. He didn’t know his name, but he was happy to see that there was another who had survived the ordeals in the underground. The dragonfly felt less intimidated by all the strangers and hovered a little higher in the air to get their attention. “All right; you guys are here to help? Bzz! Come upstairs with me. I have a room where we can safely talk.”

The insect melded into a glowing yellow line that left a trail up to the second floor. In the room with the Snorlax, a tall being wearing a black cloak walked over to sit at the table with a cup of hot tea. The being sat with its back facing the group and its hood drawn up.

Following behind the dragonfly was one red and yellow plant-like creature. One had a flower poking out of its vegetable-shaped head and the other a leaf. They raced up the stairs behind Sparx and followed him to the bedroom, opening it for the armless dragonfly. Sparx whirled around and nodded to the Pikmin bellhops. “Hey thanks!”

The Pikmin saluted him and traveled back downstairs. The hotel room, like majority of the inn, was covered in the same squishy pillow-like flooring. There were two twin beds, a round table with two chairs, and a TV stand with a flatscreen television on it. The dragonfly flew in an excitable circle and offered the group, “Come on in and have a seat bzz! There’s a lot to talk about. Get comfortable but try not to fall asleep!”

Once the group was settled and comfy, Sparx began the tale.

“For those who don’t know me, I am Sparx the Dragonfly. In my world, every young dragon has a dragon fly. We protect them, otherwise, without us, they could get seriously hurt or worse, killed bzz! Somewhere in the Dragon Realm, Spyro is locked away inside a cage and he’s very weak! I can see him in my head, but I am unable to find him from this dimension. But any who, that big green meanie some of you saw was Gnasty Gnorc. He is from the Dragon Realm and is one of our enemies. Did you beat him?”

Sparx waited for an answer before he continued, “I am not sure if Gnasty was only after me. The Egg Thief seemed like he wanted to steal the winning items too.”

He looked to James and bowed. “Thank you again for saving me. I don’t know what they would have done with me and that Moneybags nrrgh! He just makes me mad! I can’t believe he tried to sell me off. But again, I’m getting carried away. Before all of this happened, I was with Spyro in Dragon Shores—there are many smaller realms inhabiting the Dragon Realms by the way. We were catching some sun when we were attacked by a group of Big Gnorcs. They underestimated us—as always—and we kicked their butts but that was when someone unusual appeared. I don’t think I had ever seen the person in the Dragon Realms. He was wearing a black cloak with a hood and he had Ripto, Crush, and Gulp with him!”

Sparx shook back and forth in the air. “Let’s just say they’re bad dragons—well, Ripto is a dinosaur. But he wishes he was a dragon. Normally his magic isn’t so strong but this time, things were different. He nearly killed me with one spell! Spyro saved me and ran away from Ripto and the mysterious guy. We tried to fly through the dimension portal but the cloaked guy followed us through. He cast a spell that bound Spyro, and I was lost between dimensions. I guess that’s how I wound up here. I was alone and I didn’t know what was going on. I ran into Moneybags because he was the only one that I knew from my universe. Never would I have guessed he would sell me to the bad guys. I knew that bear was greedy but not that greedy bzz!”

---

The Body Snatcher’s bag was on a white glass table surrounded by a blue glowing field. The bag wasn’t dissected or spread open like some science project. It laid there limply in the field just as she had left it. The red and white alien man was standing before it, pressing a button on an orange panel as he flipped through pages of data. As the guinea pig Naija approached him from behind, the salarian didn’t turn his head to acknowledge her once. His black eyes remained on the pages of data.

“It is not a device for carrying objects but a creature with a dimension inside of it. It is not the dimension within it that is affected by the Mugen Virus. The Mugen Virus affects the creature. The dimension has me curious,” Solus answered Naija, his words rapid and devoid of emotion. “Why you would want to keep this organism puzzles me. I am afraid you cannot keep it. I wish to test it further. I want to see where the dimension inside it leads.”

---

---

As soon as Cuphead had introduced himself, two other heroes had walked up to the group. Taric and James seemed to know Shantae and Sparx, so he lightly waved hello to them. "Well, nice ta' meet'cha, Miss Shantae, Taric." He replied, before turning to James. "Dunno what your name is though, but still." What Sparx called James however gave Cuphead a nickname to call him.

He nodded yes when the dragonfly asked the group if they were there to help, and followed suite to one of the rooms in the inn. He couldnt help but explore around the room, before leaping onto one of the beds with a "Hyuph!"

Once everyone was seated, Sparx introduced himself, before telling how he got to platform city, and how his friend, Spyro, was in danger. Eyes widened, Cuphead rested his chin in one of his hands, as he listened close to the dragonfly's story. Once the dragonfly was finished, Cuphead sprang up to his feet, the bed adding a bit of bounce.

"I dunno about you guys, but I'm not lettin' this go on without a fight!" He exclaimed, punching the palm of his hand.

Alicia nodded to Frisk in answer of their thanks, but in other words, made no response, instead trying to wrap her head around the cry fest that the two brothers had become. Apparently they didn't particularly care for the idea of death, a thought which was basically confirmed when they argued about what their "king" had ever done for them. "There seems to be some internal strife within this 'Emperor' Dedede's court. Perhaps we should suggest leveraging it?" Alicia grunted as she followed the group, the Doctrine of Passing in hand once more.

"No, I don't think our child leader will agree. It's bad enough he's going to already object to the fact that we may have to battle our next few opponents. And from what I've learned of the Mugen Virus, Dedede is going to be no exception now that he's been infected." Iron made no response other than a thoughtful hum. His Guardian, on the other hand, was still coming to terms with the fact that she was looking at, albeit this world's version, an actual whale. She had seen plenty of them in the archives, all different kinds, from Beluga's to Humpbacks. But to be looking at one in person, especially since it was so close in appearance to a Blue Whale, was simply amazing. "You're saving images and video of this for Ikora and the Warlocks, right?"

"I am. I think we should talk with the group before we go too much further ahead, preferably before the next fight." Alicia nodded, and once the group had crossed the bridge, she called for a halt so they could talk. Of course, she would begin since she'd called for the stop inside the stairwell.

"I don't think we'll be able to talk our way past the next fight, or the one after that, if these next two generals are as fiercely loyal as was suggested. And about this King Dedede...Frisk, there's no reasoning with someone who's been infected by the Mugen Virus. Their sanity is gone at that point."

---

The dragonfly's enthusiasm at James's survival of Gnasty Gnorc's ambush brought a smile to the Nightstalker's face, even though he wasn't sure why. "Course I survived, that ugly bastard didn't have what it takes to do me in." He didn't bother mentioning that the Mugen infected Egg Stealer had nearly succeeded though. I owe Banshee a big apology for the comments I made about him insisting my armor was in top shape before I went on patrol before... He nodded when Sparx asked if they were there to help, but as he followed, he noticed the fellow with the black cloak and hood and frowned. Charger noticed and sighed.

"Tag him?"

"Nah, it's late, and who knows what people from other worlds wear. Remember the cuphead here?" Charger made no reply, though he seemed to become annoyed at the reminder. Once they were in the room, with James inside last and closing the door, he stood against the wall to listen. When asked about the giant ugly's fate, the Nightstalker chuckled darkly. "Let's just say Mister Gnorc caught a one way ticket to hell." As the dragonfly went on to tell the story of how he ended up between dimensions, as he put it, James's face fell as he remembered the figure that was downstairs a just a room away from where they'd met the bug. But he then shrugged it off as paranoia; there was no way the guy had managed to track the dragonfly to Platform City.

The end to the story came, and James chuckled again, though less morbidly this time. "Well, you won't have to worry about that greedy sleezeball, Moneybags, any time soon. He's in custody within Tetris Castle and being questioned as we speak. And as for your situation...I'm all for helping, but we'll need to get any of this group-" The cupheaded person said they needed to help before the Guardian could finish, so he quickly pressed on quick as he could before getting cut off again. "We need to get them to the castle and immunized before we go. Then I can get Guile or one of the other Council members to get us a portal to your Dragon Realms and help out."

---

Vent simply snacked lightly on his food while they waited, though he was intrigued by the use of a viewscreen like back home. Of course, this one was clearly far more advanced, since it was able to transmit through to other dimensions, as well as receive from them, but the familiar piece of tech was somewhat comforting all the same. For the Megaman, Platform City was still just a touch too much mix and match. Eventually, the screen's picture matched the clarity of the audio, and things began to grow interesting.

First was the message recording, which described "gods of steel" that had made these Forsworn stronger than before. His mind raced as he considered the implications of what they could be. Could be more Psuedoroids, considering how easily Serpent created them and then handed each of them half of a Biometal... It would also fall in line with the "Great Game of Destiny" that Ashe had told Vent about when Albert went on a rant. Still, he wasn't convinced, and it was possible that they were also powerful Mavericks, though he admitted that could be wrong. The group on the other side of the screen had, until the Vault Boy began listing the various titles one of them went by, been largely ignored by him. After all, people were going to be people, even if it was a bit childish.

However, with each title, his attention was drawn more and more to the screen. Eventually, the man gave up and accepted that he'd been summoned. Vent wasn't sure how good of an idea that was, given how he'd already tried to weasel out once, but the more the merrier if the Megaman had learned anything. Vault Boy then asked for any questions or comments, and the first to speak was the girl with the blue hair, asking for better winter clothing. Vent himself had a different question, as he was pretty good at ignoring temperatures after his adventures. "Are we allowed to go lethal or are we only to take out the 'steel gods' permanently?" Normally he wouldn't care, since they were bad guys, but he had since learned that other games reacted differently to his brand of justice than his own.

The quantity of the group that had assembled around the reception only increased, but the quality of siad group was drastically going of the charts with every new addition to the already paradoxal equation. The humanoid creatures without fur, scales or the like grew to become the clear majority of the group, but the one that stuck out was the one with a cup for a head. Yes, a CUP, for a HEAD. Bentley's eyes had started to fall of the turtle's nose as he tried to understand how a sentient, living being could have a brain powerful enough to sustain the requirments for organs and sensory output/input, all inside a liqiud content of a teacup.

Then again, the content could be coffee, so that would make a whole lot of sense.

The dragonfly, high in spirits at the apperance of two in the group, told them to follow him(?) upstairs, if they wanted to help. So this was one of the groups that would go on to save the world? Finally, some action! As the rest of the group went upstairs, Bentley followed a little slower behind before he came to a stop at the stairs. The green turtle looked up at one of the last ones to go up the stairs, then back at his own feet and the wheels. "...I guess they haven't heard of 'wheel-chair accessability' in this universe, have they?" Bentley sighed to himself, turning his wheelchair with its back to the stairs. As he began to slowly but surely roll his wheelchair up one step of stairs after another, he couldn't help but see the black-hooded stranger sitting at the table. Bentley hmmm'ed quietly. Strangers in dark clothes usually meant trouble. The Black Baron, Octavio, The Black Knight - "Why....?" -, The Contessa were just a few that came to his mind. But the group waited upstairs, so he pushed the thought methodically into a folder in his mind, and pushed on upstairs.

As the meeting began, Bentley chose naturally to ignore the dragonfly's words of choice. He was already comfortably seated, so thanks, but no thanks. The information given was much more of interest to the masterplanner himself, though he would have wished for a presentation on a screen and laser-pointer for extra effect. From what Bentley gathered, Spyro the dragon had been captured, and they were the ones to rescue him. Between Cuphead enthusiastically proclaiming his eager for a fight, and James' insistance that they get a immunized for what Bentley only could presume was the infamous Mugen-Virus - Bentley shivered at the thought, for he hated viruses and needles - , the turtle raised his hand for his turn to speak.

"I can't agree more with both for the rescue of Spyro from such vile creatures, and the need for protection against the virus, but I think there is a more urgent part of the mission that might need to be adressed." Bentley said out to the group, before lowering his head, as if telling them to be quiet, pointing down to the floor and continuing to speak quietly. "There is someone downstairs, sitting at the table in a black cloak. I don't know for certain, but according to my past experiences, the probability that this is your black-cloak-man is high, Mr. Sparx Dragonfly. And if you ask me, we need to figure that out before we proceed with the rest of the plan."

Piper was familiar with the kind of tech used to make the projections, even if she found it a little disconcerting to see again. Her people didn’t use it, but she had seen stuff like it while her crew where blasting through hoards of hive minded bots on voltron’s ships. Once the screen started working it revealed more of the biped animal people that seemed to make up the majority of the population of this and most other worlds. Piper was still getting used to them and their… squishiness.

Piper was however rather familiar with the kind of cabin fever she decided that the people on the other end of communication device where suffering from. Coop a group of people up on a spaceship together for too long away from outside influences and they get overly familiar and comfortable with each others eccentricities, developing a micro culture that comes of as odd to everyone else. That said, this lot where on the extreme end of that process and she was somewhat surprised they hadn’t vented themselves into space or crashed straight into an asteroid as a result of their space madness. Or that none of the died to a ricocheting weapons discharge when their only sane man forced them to stop bickering with firepower. She could only hope that this president person of too many titles calmed down after getting some fresh company, rather than dragging them all down into his insanity.

As for the mission itself, piper had very little perspective to draw on to draw any conclusions from the limited data they where given. She supposed these iron gods might be people like her. Other than that she wasn’t sure how dangerous these dragons where, nor did she have much to offer in the way of ideas as to what the barbarians and their metal masters might want. Whatever it was, Piper decided her goal would be to lift it before they got their hands on it. Aiming to get a jist of what might be considered valuable in the settlement she asked:

”This Markarth place home to anything notable that would make it a target? Recently unearthed ancient structures or artifacts, vaults full of treasure, arsenal of weapons, that kind of thing?”

Like Vent, Piper would forgo traditional clothing, in her case it was because wearing flammable cloth on your body does not mix well with having an exposed furnace on your chest. She also found Vent’s comment about lethality rather disconcerting as a result of her previous mental equating of the steel gods to her own kind.

”Why might you feel like scrapping one is acceptable when the other might not be?”

She hoped it was because her kind could simply be put back together if scraped, unlike animals who would not get up again once sufficiently damaged, no matter how much duct tape you applied, rather than some kind of resentment towards her kind.



Taric was a little less befuddled by the existence of cuphead than everyone else it seemed, having pegged him as some kind of eccentrically designed golem. Really, he was not that much more strange than the wheelchair bound humanoid turtle or a glowing talking dragonfly. still, he was glad fate had lead him to see the little marvel or rather that the protector had lead him to see them, as Taric soon found out he had stumbled into a call to adventure.

”I suppose it was optimistic of me to think we might be here just for sightseeing then” he muttered to himself in amusement. It was not much of a stretch to hear laughter in the the melodic tones produced by his follower gems as they moved to avoid scraping the ceiling of the staircase. Once they were in a room Taric sat down on one of the beds, set bravado down beside and him to listen to Spark’s tale of dragons, danger, deception and dark figures. A dark hooded figure that it turned out might be in this very building! Or it might just be someone with similar dress sense. Dark cloaks were the fashion of choice for suspicious figures everywhere, so confronting the one downstairs would probably be good for someone, even if it wasn't them.

”Shall we go confront this suspicious figure then?”

Taric asked as he stood up once more, a process that involved dramatically tossing his mace bravado up from where it was sitting using his right hand, letting it twirl around once in the air before catching it by the handle in his left gauntleted hand.

”and if we do, do you want help down the stairs Bentley?”

He imagined the bumpy ride back down would be most unpleasant if done unassisted.



A portal to another world was definitely something interesting. The amount of uses that that could provide where mind boggling.

”have you tried” Naija began before realizing she probably wouldn’t be able to suggest anything the scientist had not already thought of ”Never mind. I’ll leave you to it.”

Naija was a little disappointed to not be getting to keep the bag. She was going to use it as decor for the room she had taken on the 75th floor. A room she decided it was high time she went back to.

”good night Dr. Solus”

She let herself out the lab and headed up to the castle’s Quarters. There she went to the bathroom attached to her room, filled up the bathtub with water and towels and then promptly snuggled into the resulting warm mess to get some much needed sleep.

Shantae looked to Sparx when he flew up to the ceiling and called for them to get to a room, so they could discuss in private. The half-genie was about to offer the turtle in the chair assistance up the stairs, but he seemed to take care of it himself. She did stay close, just in case he needed help, or if he accidentally fell down somehow. However, as she went up the stairs, she noticed the cloaked figure in the room with the Snorlax, drinking tea. The cloak was suspicious, and she remembered the last time she didn't question something simply (Uncle Mimic's so-called blueprints, which were swapped out by Risky), things almost didn't end well.

Soon they were in the room, and the pillows on the floor reminded Shantae of home. She took a seat on the floor with her legs crossed, and she listened carefully to Sparx's tale. After James answered Sparx's question regarding Gnasty and the dragonfly commented about Gnasty, and how the thief was after the winning items, Shantae blinked and spoke out loud with her fingers clasping her chin in thought, "...Actually, that 'egg thief' seemed much more interested in the people than the winning prizes. After it stuffed someone in a bag, that person was infected..."

Shantae listened to the rest of Sparx's story, and when the dragonfly was finished, the man with the cup for a head spoke up and volunteered to help. James also rose up to the task and suggested they get inoculated and get Guile to help them get to the Dragon Realms. After the both of them spoke up, Shantae volunteered "I'll help too, Sparx! Consider this Guardian Genie on the case!"

Her attention turned to the turtle in the wheeled chair as he pointed out the fact that there was a cloaked man downstairs, and that he may be the cloaked man Sparx encountered before. After Taric asked, Shantae shook her head and answered "No. Confronting him directly doesn't seem like a good idea. For one, there's also the chance that this guy could just be another average joe, just drinking tea. Secondly, if this is the guy, and he was powerful enough to take down Spyro, then he may be powerful enough to take down all of us. Lastly, if that guy is here, then he may be after Sparx. We need to make sure Sparx remains safe and sound as well as save Spyro!"

After a moment of recalling how she managed to escape from the green men from earlier, she muttered "I've got it...!" She then told the others, "I can shape shift and do some reconnaissance. I don't think he'll recognize me in a different form,"

Ruben was in the process of finishing his third sandwich when the broadcast began. He never got around to finishing it. The transmission killed what was left of his appetite. Who were these people? Was this some kind of joke to them? He was under the impression that the mission he was on was more important than human extinction, and he was going to be working with, if not led by, a handful of aggressive, smart-mouthed, childish adults, one of them apparently being the President? The whole thing seemed almost surreal. At least the man on the screen wasn't the President of the US where Ruben came from, so he let out a quiet sigh of relief knowing that his Earth had, as far as he knew, not been destroyed. Ideally the same would not happen to the one they were being sent to.

The scope of the mission was a bit...broad. Dragons and magic? How was he going to fight against something like that? Sure, the XCOM initiative was formed to deal with unknown threats, but at least the aliens he had encountered were small and squishy. He glanced down at his rifle, doubting it had the stopping power to penetrate dragon scales, and his standard-issue body armor may not prove too effective against an actual dragon. Not to mention the "gods of steel," whatever that meant. The cartoonish individual giving the briefing referred to it as fishy, but Ruben had a feeling that he was making an understatement. Sure, he had never actually seen, much less attacked, a dragon, but if the aliens who invaded earth were as deadly and vile as he had expected, the dragons would be worse. He didn't know what allies would be waiting for him in the new universe, but he had a feeling that they were more ill-equipped than he.

He glanced around at his team for the first time. The first member was a tall, graceful woman with blue hair. From a physical standpoint, she seemed completely unfit for combat, especially in her choice of armor. Back in XCOM, everyone suited up in body armor, boots, and kneepads. She brandished an elaborate weapon, but she appeared to be just as human as himself, which meant she was just as vulnerable without protection. But who knows, maybe her dress and sleeves were knife-proof. Or maybe she had supernatural abilities, since apparently magic was both real and viable. The other two were robotic. One was clearly entirely mechanical, which would be interesting in combat. He was well-trained in the art of patching up humans, but machines? Not even the Medikit could help with that. If the robot took some sort of damage, he wouldn't be able to do much. The other was some sort of human-mech combination. Or perhaps it was a human wearing a very elaborate form of armor. It certainly looked durable enough for a fight, and he nodded in approval at the visible sidearm. If anyone was ready for a fight, it was that one.

He kept quiet as the other three asked their questions, suddenly remembering that they hadn't made introductions. He made a mental note to introduce himself and find out what their name and rank was after the briefing. Personally, he wondered just how big and intelligent these dragons would be, but he kept it to himself. He was suited up already and had brought his only weapons and equipment. If that wasn't enough to keep him alive, he didn't belong in this fight.

---

Sparx smiled over at Cuphead—his enthusiasm was infectious and even made the dragonfly hover up and down in excitement. As James went onto explain about immunizations, the dragonfly gave him a blank stare. “Is that like a magic spell?” Sparx asked. It may have been that the Dragon Realms knew nothing about the M-virus.

The meeting continued with much discussion about the cloaked character that the group had said was supposedly downstairs. Sparx frowned in fear. He hadn’t even seen him! Was it the same guy from his realm? Could he have followed him to this safe location? Sparx flew in a nervous circle for Bentley’s suspicions were disturbing him. “That will mean Ripto, Gulp, and Crush won’t be too far away. They could be here in hiding! This building and all of its sleeping guests could be destroyed!”

Outside the door, hunched over and with its head to the door was the mentioned black-cloaked-man. It eavesdropped on the conversation. Its sleeve-covered hands rising to its veiled face.

Shantae jumped in, calming Sparx a little by showing her eagerness to help him save the Dragon Realms. The dragonfly smiled a little, but all the talk concerning the stranger just scared him. Taric went on to talk about it and then Shantae added to the discussion. Everyone had seen the guy but him!—and maybe the cuphead. Shantae was always concerned about him. He didn’t mind, but he was strong too!

“I can fight!” Sparx exclaimed. “I may be small, but we dragonflies are the ones who protect the dragons, bzz! It’s not the other way around. I can bind with one of you guys and offer my protection.”

By then, all the talk with catching the black-cloaked-man caused the very creature to quietly creep away before he was discovered. He headed for the staircase.

---

Vault Boy grasped his chin at Azura’s question. His bottom lip poked out and his right eye closed a little as he hmmed to himself. “I’m sure the docs on the 49th floor can help you out. Those guys are always inventing crazy stuff. They probably got an arctic survival suit lying around somewhere.” His answer may not have sounded reassuring, but Vault Boy was certain that the scientists could whip something up for her—custom fit too!

When the android kid asked him about lethality, Vault Boy rested his hands on his hips and blinked his eyes at him. For a second, he had forgotten that the kid was actually a machine and probably a soldier-type. He looked very feminine, androgynous even, but he sounded like a boy. “Always analyze the situation,” he answered, and then looked at the rest of the group for that was good advice. “Don’t ever go charging in without knowing the story folks. Not everything is always what it appears. But I recommend you take orders from the Stormcloak fellow. If he does anything suspicious or says anything that sets your instincts off, then The Council will trust you to act in your best judgement. You can always communicate with us. Our eggheads have got you some cross-dimensional comms.”

Captain Piper spoke next. Vault Boy shrugged his shoulders and smiled in a carefree manner. “Congratulations! You guys are the first to venture to Markarth, and therefore, you guys are the intelligence collectors. You get to find out why the enemy is so interested in Markarth.” Vault Boy grinned.

Mr. President rolled his eyes as he continued to munch potato chips. Kinzie would have known… He glanced over his shoulder and yelled, “Kinzie! (crunch, munch)”

“WHAT?” she yelled back.

“What’s so special about Markarth?”

“Mar-what?”

“Nothing!”

“Huh?”

“I said NOTHING!”

Vault Boy clapped his hands together and said, “You folks take your time. When you’re ready, go to the 49th floor to receive your vaccine. We got a special anti-virus chip for our robotic friends in case the Mugen Virus can affect machines. It is a universal virus after all. The docs will have the portal prepared as well.” He then looked over at Azura, kindly reminding her, “Don’t forget to ask the docs about that winter outfit.”

“Hey little dude,” Mr. President called.

Vault Boy’s eyes narrowed and lips turned in a frown. He turned around to face the screen with an entirely opposite expression from the one he made—a smile. “Yes Mr. President?”

“That virus gonna work on me even though I’m usin’ the Matrix shit?”

“It’ll prevent your digital body from getting infected, so it doesn’t pass to your real body.”

The president’s left brow arched as he gave Vault Boy a disbelieving look and a short laugh, “Huh…” He slid some more chips into his mouth and rose from his seat on the coffee table. Rolling up the bag of chips, he tossed them haphazardly on the couch as he said, “I’ll go get linked up then.” He then yelled to the Saints. “See you bitches on the other side!”

“What!?” they chorused.

“Oh my god, never fucking mind!”

After the heroes were able to converse among themselves and receive their vaccines, upon stepping through the portal, they are transported to a cold and snowy land.



The land surrounding them resembled a temperate forest. There were rocky cliffs and ridges. The pungent and burnt smell of smoke was strong on the air and down a snowy path through the trees, the heroes would be able to see walls of pine lined up and tarred into a fortress perimeter. The man, Ulfric Stormcloak, who they were sent to find may be there.

---

GM Note: Players are allowed to chat before proceeding into the portal that will transmit them to Skyrim. Those who are preferring to chat before transport are not required to follow the Posting Order below until they have their character warp to Skyrim. For those players new to the PXO game, the highlighted person in the P.O. is the randomly selected (by the decider machine god--literally, decidermachine.com) squad leader. All characters are required to listen to the squad leader for guidance. In certain game universes, the squad leader's role is unique with various responsibilities. The squad leader's role here, however, is to keep teamwork and cooperation within the squad and to make sure the mission is accomplished (rather than just complete) and that everyone gets back home. I added a new feature to the PXO game. A mission can be "Complete" or it can be "Accomplished." These ratings mean nothing when it comes to your character's overall squad selection for after the mission. It just allows you, the player, to know that you either: a) finished the mission but didn't discover every possibility with it, or b) you finished the mission and learned everything you could, found all the secrets you could, you just up and completionist it. You won't know if you've really done this since every mission involves decision-making. Good and bad decisions can be made. You won't know until you've made them. Some decisions are predictably bad, but again, you will find out regardless. Have fun!


If a player is inactive for more than 3 days without letting the GMs know of any delays, then the player can be skipped over on the 4th day. If a player does not wish to post, they can @Mention the GM and let the GM know he or she "Passes" on his or her turn.

P.O.: Mr. President, Azura, Vent, Captain Piper, and Ruben.

A light-blue beam dropped down on the snow-covered ground before dematerializing into a series of squares. Forming in a collection of pixels that blended into an optimum graphic setting, was a roughly six-foot man wearing a green and hideous knit Christmas sweater that said “Ho ho ho!” in white font on the back. The sweater had white sleeves fitted over the Boss’s strong arms, snowflakes, a snowman, and a wannabe black Santa belt design across the waist. Paired with his black dress pants and shoes, the man was clearly out of place. He was even wearing prescription-less square-framed glasses. The man known as “Boss” or “Mr. President” glanced about at his surroundings.

“Looks like Alaska,” he muttered to himself. His blue eyes then fell on his sweater and he raised his arms as though someone had just sneezed all over it. His lip was cocked in disgust. “What the fuck Kinzie!” His brows then rose as he twisted left and right, inspecting what he could see of the back with pursed lips. “Actually, it’s keepin’ me rather warm.” He was impressed.

Smelling the smoke on the air, Boss thought aloud, “Somebody havin’ a cook out?”

He glanced down the path at the wooden fortress in the distance. That’s probably where our guy is, he mused (he felt so clever). Already, the mission was going a little easier than he expected. He waited for the rest of the team to warp in before he pointed at the fortress and told them, “Hey guys, our guy’s in that fortress. Who wants to bet on it? Who doesn’t believe I’m right?”

He looked around for hands and then smirked in amusement. “I’m just playin’ (he’s obviously in there). I guess we oughta’ start with introductions. I’m The Protagonist—at least of the world I come from. In my world, Earth was blown up and destroyed by aliens, I’m President of the used-to-exist United States, as well as Emperor of the aliens whose asses I whooped (#justsayin') and most of you guys are from video games that humans from my world would play. Cool, right? This isn’t my first time leadin’. I’m also the Boss of the ‘surviving’ Third Street Saints. We used to be a gang, but then they became my cabinet while I was president. I guess we are uh…we’re like…” He snapped his fingers as he tried to think of it and then remembered, “Yeah! We’re like the crew on the Enterprise and shit. Star Trek (I don’t expect you guys to even know what that is)! But you guys can just call me Boss since, heh, I am the boss on this mission.”

He grinned proudly.