---

As the group made steady progress through the giant room, the Boos continued trying to get at the Heroes as they turned their backs to them, only to be stopped by one of the group, usually the large bear of a Russian, turning to stare them down. For those Boos that got too close, they were dealt with accordingly by the resident Vampire's purple flames, dispersing them as they gasped in surprise. As the other side of the platform lined abyss grew closer, something about the air...it seemed to change.

Another set of eyes soon appeared as they stood on the last platform, a pair of yellow ones, that vanished back through the doorway behind them as the group leaped across. Laughter, darker than even that of the white Boos behind them, who had suddenly lost interest in following them, echoed out from the room in front of them, before a wall of purple Boos, the wall consisting of about six of them, appeared. One floated forwards, appraising the Heroes. "Of course our cousins couldn't get you, they're far too cowardly. Can't even face you head on, gotta try and jump you from behind." It moved it's body like it was shaking it's head before looking at the group again, a wicked grin on it's face. "But us, well, we Dark Boos don't mind getting down and dirty. And you gotta get past us to get to our king. Best of luck, chumps!"

As one, as soon as the foremost one finished speaking, a wall of purple fire rushed towards the heroes before the boos attacked, moving much faster than the white ones who watched the spectacle from afar.

---

GM Note: From now on, 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.: Slayer, Akira, Heavy, and Six.

James slid to a stop on a roof as Rosalina answered his call, the glowing yellow dragonfly just barely perceptible to the Hunter's vision as he gazed up at the ship, his cloak billowing in the wind. Nothing's working... James couldn't help the soldier, he could say that with a clear conscious. Guardians were never healers, always warriors, standing between the remains of Humanity and the forces of the Darkness, the Hive, Vex, Fallen, Cabal and Taken. Their Ghosts healed and resurrected a Guardian who fell or got hurt in combat. And there hadn't been any new Ghosts since the Traveler's fall during the Collapse...All this passed through his mind as he listened to what Charger heard, who was content to simply listen for the time being.

"Charger, get them to the Castle, I'll be right behind you. And please, as you normally do, cop with no argument." Whipping out his Still Piercer, the Nightstalker took aim at the giant air ship and began to appraise potential targets as he zoomed in on various areas he could see. Even at close range, the rifle wouldn't do anything to the armored giant, but if he could find someone who looked important enough..."Damn it..." Finding nothing and no one, he slung the rifle back over his shoulder and headed for the castle at a dead sprint, leaping over buildings and using his double jump to help clear the extra wide gaps. Guile was their military specialist, and had seemed tougher than a Cabal Colossus. He had to try and find a way to help him."Rosalina, I'm enroute to the Castle now. Don't waste time trying to seal the wound, for now just staunch the bleeding, cauterize it if you have to. I don't know if this will work, but my Ghost and I can try something when we get there."

Meanwhile, Charger floated level with the group as they all arrived at roughly the same area, his eye seeming to look somber yet serious as he looked them all over. "Now that we know the cloaked guy is a good guy, we're going to Tetris Castle. NOW. All your planning means naught without a means of transport, which the Castle has. So, if you done arguing with me and celebrating with each other for reunions, a pleasure by the way, Hunter, we should go before anything else crazy happens."

It was surprising how fast a turtle could be when he just put his mind to it. That, and the fact that said turtle used a high-tech, self-made wheelchair with all the gizmos you could imagine! And he had oiled his wheels just before arriving in this strange, new alternate universe, so that helped too. Bentley wheeled his wheelchair to the limit as he rushed through the twining streets, heading in the general direction of Tetris Castle. But soon he heard voices on the top of a roof, sounding familiar. Slowing down to a reasonable pace, he stretched his turtle neck as high as he could to hear better. And to his luck, it was his friends from the Save Point. From what he gathered, they had caught up with their escaping eavesdropper, who turned out to be a friend of Sparx, who ALSO just so happened to want to save the so-called Spyro. Well wasn't the mathematical implausibilities just racking up?

Once the robot Charger showed up and adressed them the need to keep moving, Bentley couldn't agree more. "Agreed! The best plans are made in a saferoom...or a safe room, but rarely on roof tops! See you at the castle!" Bentley shouted to the others on the roof, before wheeling off again towards the castle. He had wanted to throw in a comment about him not being as good as them to climb, but that was better saved for later. Right now, as he wheeled his little turtle arms to the max, his mind was working on a plan.

Taric was not built for speed. In the end even the turtle overtook him using his surprisingly quick wheelchair to reach speeds that could give ramus a run, or rather roll, for his money. Had Taric been a different man he could have found this irritating, but then again, as he hadn't bought boots yet being outpaced wasn't really that surprising. The fabulous support hero merely had a brief cuckle to himself at the continued absurdity of what an odd situation he had ended up in and then kept on running. As a result of his lack of speed Taric only caught the tail end of the situation around the interception of hunter, just managing to here James’ instructions.

”No break for me then. Onwards to the castle!” he shouted goodnaturedly as he approached the group, only to keep up the pace and continue is jog towards the castle, inside of which Naija was having a minor panic attack.



oh nononononononono. You can't die. I can't lose another one. Niaja half whispered to herself as she tried to administer to the wounded Guile. She was not a doctor. She barely know what a Doctor was. The opportunity to stop the intruders had passed and what little parts of Naija’s mind that weren't in crisis where busy kicking the bits that where for not going to fight instead of floundering around being useless. The soup having failed she tried to use the Tasty cake to heal him, but that did little to help either, the wounds that it sealed shut slicing themselves open as if offended by the very notion that food could fix them, leaving her inventory empty save for the useless keys and strange feather she had looted from the arena wreckage. As she tried to physically hold the man's wounds shut in she glanced around looking for anything that might help, only to be reminded that Morvin Solus was in the room, knocked out in a pile of cables. Naija thought that either he needed or could provide help, but she daren’t leave Guil’s side, so she shouted at the newly arrived pink person whose name she had gotten from guiles attacker, hoping they’d be willing to help.

”Kirby! Wake Dr Solus! Maybe can help Guil? Please hurry!”

And so the plan was laid out, while Vent remained silent. Shock and awe was more of his preferred method of striking large groups of enemies, especially since it would seem these guys were pretty crappy with their aim, but he also was familiar with only hitting enemies in buildings in large groups. He himself was no stranger to fighting in more open spaces, nor were the Guardians, but engagements for the latter were more drawn out in more open spaces. As he set to finding a spot to rest after the plan was finalized and the Boss spoke with whoever it was he was talking to that the rest of them couldn't hear, as it was a better alternative to think of their leader than labeling him as insane, which the young man wasn't above, a small portal opened up and out came Model P. Grinning, Vent exchanged a brief set of words with it before storing it and settling into his corner of the tent, watching the others.

Azura, who had offered to use something of a magic trick herself, was already snuggly tucked away in her own corner and the Mega Man sighed as Model X floated up, the blue topped biometal observing the others as well. "You know, in their own way, this group is much like Guardian. Every bit as dysfunctional, but united in their purpose." Vent grunted, waving a hand vaguely at the Boss as he adjusted in order to better get comfortable on the ground that they would be sleeping on before the assault on the city the next day..

"You seem to forget that the Guardians also like Prairie and I. None of us who bother to think outside of a tiny little box care for that man. He's yet to give an order that makes any kind of sense, nevermind provide a plan that makes sense." Model X turned to look at his Chosen One.

"And the one he just laid out? Seemed pretty reasonable to me." The Mega Man shook his head.

"Far too sudden a bout in competence, even you can see that. His plan is good and decently well thought out, but based on what we saw when Ulfric's men approached, he's getting some kind of help. What do Model Z and Model P think?" Model X remained silent and the young man nodded. "Exactly. Regardless of his tactical sense, the man's an insufferable ass who needs some one or something to smack him around a bit, maybe knock him down a few pegs." The conversation was quiet, as to avoid disturbing anyone who was resting, so it was unlikely anyone else overheard the pair.

It flowed as such for a few more minutes before Model X relented and simply floated back to his place in the pouch on Vent's waist. The young man, conversely, scrounged around before he found some cheddar cheese, bread, and ale. Returning to his spot, he ate in silence, watching the door of the tent they were in until he was done and then closing his eyes, listening.

“This all sounds good to me so far”

Piper hated to admit it, but she was with the boss when it came to being impressed by Ruben, though she wasn’t going to go around backhanding him like the Boss was. How immature the Boss himself was made the continued patronisation double infuriating. Ruben also seemed like he might have a better grasp of large scale combat than she at least did, presumably that came with the territory of still being in the military. Piper still really hadn't managed to wrap her head around the concept that there where going to be, at the very least, one hundred and eighty seven fighters in the upcoming battle. It was, in her opinion, a ludicrous and unfathomable number of people to try and coordinate in a mission. Up in space you would never even be able to fit that many people on a single ship or station, let alone have them fight in anything looking like a battle where tactics and positioning would be playing a pivotal role. Instead she had more or less ignored the vastly bloated number of combatants during the planning, thinking of this as just another plan for a small scale highest with her crew that just so happened to have some big numbers haphazardly pinned onto each member’s role. This plan for stealthily securing first the gate and then the central guard tower however was something far more up her alley, a good old fashioned heist with sneaking, taking the enemy by surprise and involving only a small team and a clear objective. It was as a result something of a shame the boss pounced on it first as, on top of her preference for that scale of operation, the tower could also have have made a good sniper's perch, though she supposed there was nothing stopping her from taking it later in the battle. Still, just because she disappointed that she wasn't going to be taking point it did not mean she wouldn't offer her assistance in another manner.

“I could take a concealed sniper position to cover the gate stealth operation if you like, so that when… if something goes wrong with it I can provide some marksbotship for your gang Boss. Same goes for the tower assault if it doesn't interfere with our push for the mine. Might be able to find a spot where I can cover both? We’ll see when we get a proper look at the place for ourselves tomorrow.”

At a certain point it became clear that discussion was over and the humans, after a bit of scrounging about for supplies, began what piper assumed was what they did to refuse themselves, a process she attempted to avoid staring at in repulsed fascination because of how unpleasantly squishy and wet it was. Instead she saw to the refueling of her boiler, a process which ended up involving melting some snow in a pot over the wood fire to avoid using the humans drinking water, teaching a curiose stormcloak how a steam engine worked and in return rediscovering the production of charcoal as a fuel source for Steambot kind and learning what the Dwarves were, or rather, had been. The tales of the ancients race’s advanced civilisation, the remains of which could be supposedly found buried in the earth reminded her of similar tales of ruins that had existed deep within steamworld before it exploded, though with a lot less toxic waste lying around and with a seemingly equal amount of ancient aggressive bots stomping around, though fortunately the ones here where were not collectively lead by a hostile xenophobic AI mastermind. After she had laid the groundwork for a future Nord led industrial revolution she drank the melted snow to fill up her water tank and briefly opened up the hatch on her chest leading to her furnace, directly fueling the fire raging at her core with some freshly prepared charcoal. She then settled down to clean, oil and polish both herself and her guns to keep the machinery in tip top condition, during which the humans settled down into some kind of low power mode that she assumed was this “sleep” thing Ulfric had mentioned. It was apparently one one that they were easily roused, much to their displeasure, by her making any loud noises as she tried to do some additional solo planning using the crude map. Boredom from the lack of company and the human’s complaining quickly drove her to leave them to it.

Stepping out of the tent she happened to glance up, only to be struck by pangs of homesickness, for above the strange blue sky had been replaced by a sea of alien stars swimming around an uncannily familiar moon. She wondered what nightmares might lurk behind that great gleaming silver orb. Perhaps it was where the dwarves had disappeared to. Despite the fact that her kind had lived, and one day might again live, on a world like this, up among the stars was where Piper felt she belonged. Up there was where her people were, or rather felt like they were, while she was stuck down here with the humans who where, it seemed, all asleep, leaving her without company or distraction to pass the long night. Wondering the perimeter of the camp however yielded unexpected signs of life as she stumbled into the poor sods stuck with nightwatch duty. It was with them she spent most of the night, bonding with a series of watchmen and women as they all took turns in safeguarding the camp from the possibility of night attacks by forsworn or the monstrous things supposedly lurking out there in the dark woods. She took the opportunity to give some, non ammo expending, night lessons in the use of the captured laser weapons, such as which end was the shooty end, what a safety was and how you reloaded them. While it could not compare to the company of a gang of close companions like those she had aboard her ship back home, chatting with and getting to know some of the people she would be fighting alongside when dawn comae was a pleasant enough way to pass the time.

Content with the now fully fleshed-out plan, and having been dismissed for the night, Ruben stood to his feet and dusted the debris from his kneepads. The others meandered off to find a place to rest, with Piper holding back to offer a few more suggestions. The mention of food caught his attention and Ruben realized it had been a considerable amount of time since he had a proper meal. A deep growl beneath his body armor confirmed his suspicion. Now that the adrenaline was gone and the brainstorming was done, he needed to refuel. Unfortunately, Ulfric had been telling the truth about his rations; specifically, that there were not many. Ruben feared to tell the leader how much he could eat at one time. The massive Russian could stomach enough food for three people with little effort. He contented himself to eat only as much as he could carry in one hand, using the second to hold a wooden mug.

He stepped out of the tent and took a deep breath of the night air. The frigid breeze and bright sky reminded him of the Siberian landscape he was raised on. Far from major metropolitan areas and power stations, the night sky was a familiar sight, though the stars are constellations here were very different. He wondered for a moment what his nation looked like now. The aliens had invaded on a global level, and, though he had never been dispatched to Russia, they were just as much at risk as any other country. Hopefully they were still contributing to the XCOM program. More than that, hopefully they still existed. His immediate family had passed years ago, but his home had endured. He doubted he would ever see it again, but it didn't trouble him; Ruben knew what he was getting himself into when he signed up. Or so he had thought. It didn't seem as if anyone was truly prepared for an extraterrestrial war.

Speaking of extraterrestrials...

Ruben sat himself down on a heavy log, laid his food out beside him neatly, and removed the foreign weapon from the slot on his back to properly examine it. It was definitely a rifle, in terms of length at least, but as for how it functioned? He flipped it in his hands, impressed by the lightness of the weapon, and wrapped his hand around the grip and frowned. It was horribly uncomfortable. The stock didn't rest smoothly against his shoulder, and there were no proper optics mounted to the top. Perhaps it was the size of his hands or the shape of his body armor. Either way, he wouldn't be using it in combat anytime soon. Perhaps Vahlen could turn it into something more practical. He visualized the firepower of the laser weapon in the form of a battle rifle and nodded to himself. It would turn the tide of the war back home.

That would have to wait. Ruben re-examined the map in his mind as he ate. He had forgotten to factor in his smoke grenade and was now wondering where it could be used effectively. It was easily visible and would give away his position, so it would need to either be used before the battle as a distraction or during a firefight as cover. The smoke reduced the accuracy of any enemies firing into it or surrounded by it without affecting the aim of allies. Combined with sprint, it would allow him to get nearly anywhere without being harmed. He was still holding onto the hope that he was not the only medic and that someone with healing capabilities, maybe even healing magic if that existed, was on hand. Otherwise, he would only be able to save one life. Who would he pick? The question followed him as he returned to the tent and removed his body armor, identifying a less rock-hard place to lie down. Ideally, he would have orders, but it sounded as though the Boss was going to be separate from him on the mission. His team would take priority, but all of them would be on the other side of the field fighting the "small one." What happened if Ulfric told him to save the life of one of his men, only to need it later to save a team member?

Orders are orders. That was the rule. But, for the first time, it didn't sit well with him.

A warm smile overcame Slayer as Heavy expressed his gratitude, prompting him to repay the large man in kind. ”I am delighted to hear it!” Akira, meanwhile, managed without his help. In fact, the young man ended up putting on a display of both alacrity and altruism as he helped ferry little Six across the gap. Though so far things seemed to be going well, the task at hand was hardly over. One at a time the team of heroes made its way across the platform-profuse void, and while progress came slowly, no difficulties presented themselves until -upon reaching the yawning pit's far side- a new menace arose. Turning up his nose, Slayer took note of the specters' more nebulous coloration, and of the fierce glint in their eyes. He did not expect one to start talking, but took it in stride when it did, first badmouthing its more reticent forebears and then promising a tougher obstacle. Even before the Dark Boo finished his challenge, the group could guess that their first real foes lay before them. Slayer did not miss that the Dark Boo's words seemed to imply that King Boo would not be far away.

Violet flames flared to life, illuminating the eerie paintings that lined either wall, their subjects' pallid faces contorted by the unnatural light into twisted, wicked leers. Unlit candle sconces stood against the walls, and cobwebs clung to every corner. Behind the heroes remained the abyss they just crossed, a lingering threat preventing retreat. Slayer did not think, however, that they intended to. The otherworldly flames flooded forward, but the vampire did not flinch. Though no pyromancer, he knew well certain sepulchral flames of purple and fuchsia, for they radiated from his stronger attacks as a mere side-effect. He stood tall and, when the time came lashed out with a great revolving kick whose own burst of displaced air and ghostly fire carved an arc through the onrushing wall. While simply teleporting at the right time did occur to him, he figured that his allies might be less prepared to deal with such an assault than he, and thus resolved to protect them as best he could.

Whether or not he volley of flames washed over him, Slayer took a brief moment to consider his enemies. Though not very threatening, and more like mischievous entities than vengeful spirits of the departed, these Boos did seem to be ghosts and function as such. While his flames might ward them off, they were after all nothing more than accentuating byproducts of his physical attacks, so neither they nor said attacks really be used offensively. Fearsome as Heavy's minigun was, the gentleman did not anticipate his comrade being able to do much, either. Six, who he assumed to still be holding on to Akira's back, looked to be at a disadvantage as well—how could one drain the life of one who harbored none to begin with? Akira might, he reflected, end up being the star of this little episode. Nevertheless, he raised his hands in boxing stance, preparing to retaliate against the boos as best he could.

---

Kirby nodded at Naija’s plea and was off like a pink blur, racing toward the warp elevator. It inhaled deeply, inflating into a round balloon. It fluttered up to the elevator control pad and jabbed in a 4 and a 9. It exhaled its breath on a sudden spurt. The marshmallow deflated and dove into the elevator to be warped away on a white light. It appeared, hopping out of the elevator on the 49th floor.

“EY!” Kirby called. There were droids flying about the lab with welding tools attached to their robotic arms. They flew about repairing electronics and machinery. Kirby tried to wave the machines down, but they ignored it, continuing in their programmed tasks. Growing frustrated, the pink ball glanced about the floor and found a bolt to chuck at one of them. With a clank and a spark, one of the droids stopped and whirled as though enraged. It gazed upon Kirby.

“Ey!” it cried again for help. The droid only responded with threatening pops and sparks tumbling from its welding tool. Kirby’s eyes grew in fright as it started to run. The droid chased it, trying to stab the marshmallow with its tool until an old man with a cloudy-white beard held up his hand to halt the machine.

“Now, now, leave the little fella alone,” the old man told the droid. The droid seemed to understand. With an electronic buzz sound that sounded like a hmph! it turned and left the puffball hiding behind the legs of the old man.

He was Dr. Light; and he gazed down at the odd pink sphere at his feet. He then crouched as Kirby scrambled to stand before him. Throwing up its nubby arms, Kirby attempted to explain what was happening. “Ey! Wah!”

Dr. Light pinched its red dimpled cheek and tugged on it surprised when it extended out as though made of rubber. Releasing Kirby’s cheek as it snapped back against its face, Dr. Light blinked in surprise. “Fascinating. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Kirby rubbed its cheek and then narrowed its eyes at the doctor. “Ey!”

“Are you trying to tell me something little one?”

“Ey!”

Kirby turned toward the elevator waving the doctor along. Dr. Light stood and stroked his beard curiously. “Whatever you’re trying to tell me. It seems urgent and I’ll follow you.”

The doctor followed Kirby to the elevator and together they were warped back to the reception hall. Kirby raced over to Naija and Rosalina informing them in the only manner he knew how that he had brought someone. Dr. Light was stunned to see Guile in the arms of Rosalina.

“Good Gracious! What happened?” the doctor gasped as he briskly walked over to assess Guile’s condition. He watched as his wound seemed to repair and disrepair over and over again. “If this were one of my prototypes, I would have suspected a computer virus of some sort. I have never seen anything like this.”

Guile rasped, “His sword…if not for Rosalina…I would be dead.”

“His sword you say? Could this be caused by nanites? I don’t think a mere sword could cause this kind of damage.” Dr. Light looked to Naija and Rosalina. “I came upon Dr. Solus unconscious in the lab. My droids had him moved to the infirmary. This wound…” He frowned in contemplation. “There’s a cryostasis capsule we could put him in.”

Guile snagged Dr. Light’s arm. “No…if you freeze me. I may not wake up.”

Dr. Light frowned sadly in concern. “I…well…” He shook his head and frowned in determination. “We have a rejuvenation chamber. That should keep you alive. At least long enough for me to run some tests.” He looked to Rosalina and Naija and said, “We must hurry! Your Lumas appear to be tiring.”

Rosalina gazed up at her children whose eyes were half-lidded as though they would pass out any moment from using so much recovery magic. “Please don’t give up. Just a little longer,” she pleaded to them.

One of the stars raised its pointy limb in a determined salute before it resumed healing Guile. Rosalina attempted to heft Guile but even his arm seemed heavy to her. “Help me please,” she asked Naija.

Dr. Light also offered to lift the large soldier to his feet. “This way!”

“Ey!” Kirby echoed, clutching Guile’s pants leg as though it were making an effort too!

Rosalina heard the call over the comms from James. “James, we’re headed to the lab with Dr. Light. Nothing is working to seal Guile’s wound so we are going there. Please meet us there!”



Hunter stared at the monkey girl who wound up turning into a human (or appeared at least), and then the floating eyeball who appeared after her. Pointing at it with his thumb, Hunter asked, “What’s with the eye?”

Agreed! The best plans are made in a saferoom…or a safe room, but rarely on roof tops! See you at the castle!

Hunter blinked at the wheelchair turtle and pointed to his vanishing figure next. “What’s with the gimp turtle?”

Sparks watched as the others were racing onto the castle and glanced between Hunter, Naija, and Charger. “We’re gonna get left behind. It seems like something crazy has happened!”

Just as Sparks had said that, the massive ship’s engines ignited and it started roaring away like a rocket into the cosmos. Hunter and Sparks watched it leave. The cat’s ears were raised in surprise. “There goes my ride!” His green eyes then darted over to Sparks. “Well, our ride I suppose. If you guys are saying that you know of another way to get to Dragon Land, then I have no choice but to follow you.”

Sparks nodded. “Yeah, these are good guys Hunter. They saved me from Gnasty Gnorc!”

“Gnasty Gnorc? These guys took on Gnasty Gnorc?”

Sparks nodded proudly. “Mhm! Come on Hunter. Let’s go with them.”

Hunter sighed softly. This adventure was just getting bigger and bigger. The cat sprang to all-fours and followed after Taric and the wheelchair turtle.

Mr. Shine was defeated. As Cloud lowered his arms, exhaling a tired breath, he was a little surprised when the sun started to explode. Mr. Bright warned them of the inevitable larger explosion that would follow and opened the path to more than likely their next bout. At Frisk’s command, even if he was already in motion, Cloud raced over to the door and jumped through. Once he and the others were safely on the other side, he glanced back at the door and Mr. Bright before it vanished. That fight had left Cloud with a strange feeling. Mr. Bright had been loyal to his emperor to the end. Loyalty wasn’t evil, and Cloud could honor it. He wondered; if Mr. Bright had chosen to come with them and save himself, would the respect he now held for him been the same?

The swordsman looked over at Frisk and he could see that they suffered. The pacifist must have been traumatized by Mr. Shine’s death. They didn’t seem like they were accustomed to it or liked it really. Alicia didn’t make the situation any better. She was more soldier-minded than he was. She was thinking about the mission and the group’s survival, but she was failing to acknowledge the state of their team. In order for them to succeed, she was right. They all needed to be on the same page.

Cloud walked over to Frisk and didn’t say a word to them before his gloved hand motioned behind the child’s head. He pulled Frisk against him into an embrace, letting them know in a silent way the he knew what they were feeling. They would have to be strong if they were all going to make it these next few floors. They were the leader, and they were going to need them to have a fresh mind.

Cloud told Banjo-Kazooie and Alicia. “Go on ahead. We’ll catch up. If you suspect the next room to be dangerous, then don’t go inside. Just wait for us.” He wanted to give Frisk a moment to get it all out.

---

As the team would eventually wonder down to the second floor, they would hear the loud chime of a thousand running coins. The second chamber of the Butter Castle glowed for there were mountains of golden Dedede coins, diamonds, and jewels; and swimming in it all was a familiar fat nuisance and his skinny sidekick. Wario was sitting on a throne he had patted and sculpted out of the hundreds of thousands of coins. Pearls draped his fat neck, a diamond was poking out of his belly button, and a decorated crown sat upon his head. As he gripped his armrests and kicked his small legs, there was a ring for each of his fingers.

“WAH HA HA HA HA!” Wario bellowed.

Waluigi was swimming through the gold, surfacing to leap into the air, backflip, before diving back under the coin ocean. He looked like a happy dolphin.

“Look at all of this gold! I knew I would hit the jackpot if I broke into this joint!” Wario exclaimed in excitement.

In the corner of the room, it appeared the bosses of the Second Floor were knocked unconscious [1] [2] [3] [4]. Could Wario and Waluigi have defeated them? Wario stopped laughing to notice the heroes creeping into the treasury. “What? How did you punks make it down here?” he asked in amazement.

Waluigi popped out of the golden sea, staring wide-eyed at the heroes. “Wah.”

---

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, Banjo & Kazooie, and Cloud.

Event Tagging: @Lugubrious

As the group settled to sleep or went their own ways into the night, the moon rolled across the sky and with it did the hours. In the middle of the cold, starry snowy night, a whisper trickled down the mountain. Unlike the first time, the voice was not heard by the land. The words traveled like a breeze on magic, passing over the camp and into the tent to the huddled form of the princess.



The voice softly repeated over and over and no one else seemed to hear it.

Whispered words sifted through the night, filtering into the tent and into the dreamless sleep of the woman in white. At first Azura took them to be figments of her imagination, or mistaken whistles of a wandering wind, but the more she ruminated upon them the realer they seemed, until she could have sworn some mysterious visitor was beckoning to her from beyond the flaps of the tent. Yet, at the same time she knew her caller to be neither conjuration of the night nor hidden stranger. Earlier in the day she heard that voice, and soonafter had she heard it denied to her. This voice came from far away and from on high, neither malicious nor enigmatic, but rather like a grandfather calling his grandchild to an important talk.

“The Greybeards,” she breathed, eyes blinking open. Finding herself plagued by stiffness when she tried to move, she rolled her neck and stretched her muscles with gritted teeth until the soreness passed, and stood. In a moment she stood outside, staring into the night. Her thought did not lay upon the dreariness of her habitation or the less-than-pleasant company she kept, but upon the distant summit silhouetted against the moon. Dim visions of stone walls and arches, bathed in snow and awash in wind, slipped through her mind, and with a shiver she wondered if this was a dream after all.

But her surreal fixation on the call did not abate. Danger waited out in the darkness, and more noises than the biting breeze interrupted the night's tranquility, but she had been chosen. Lance in hand, she made her wait through the camp, a silent white wraith in the torchlit dark. When she reached the walled camp's perimeter, she slunk toward the wooden wall away from the nearest brazier, for she saw several figures standing guard. They were talking in low tones, she realized, and after a short time one moved away on patrol, leaving the other behind to stare out into the night. The remaining sentinel's silhouette struck Azura as familiar, and after a few moments she came to a conclusion and approached.

”Captain Piper,” she began, her voice soft. ”I should have expected you here. I must confess that I do not have much knowledge of beings such as you, but the magical constructs of my world have no need of things like food or sleep.” She fell silent for a time, then leveled the tip of her Blessed Lance at the mountain not too far off. ”A short time ago, I was called again. They called me 'the chosen one'. I feel...like I have to go there. Not rational, but a sort of...deep-seated urge.” She gave the machine a slight, rather woebegone smile. ”I am glad it is you that I met here. You will not, I don't think, try to stop me. If you are especially charitable, I would be grateful for accompaniment as well, but I ask nothing more than your leave.” Azura offered a bowed head as if begging permission.

Frisk couldn’t help but blink at what Alicia said. Their stoic face gained a frustrated but still determined look after Alicia spoke her piece. Their closed eyes seemed to have shut themselves tighter, and their tiny little fists clenched. Why couldn’t Alicia understand? …She really must have a high LOVE. She didn’t seem to feel the same pain from the battle herself. The child pointed out to the soldier, “Fatty never said that we had to fight. He just said that they weren’t as ‘chill’ as he was. There’s always a chance to end things peacefully, Alicia. What if we stumble upon a cure during our battle against Dedede? Would you still kill him then?!”

That sort of thing has happened before. If it was never possible to save the people who were mentally affected by something, then Frisk never would have been able to save their friends and family from Asriel’s RESET!

Then something unexpected happened.

Their eyes opened and widened when they found themselves in Cloud Strife’s embrace. They immediately picked up on the silent message that Cloud was giving them. He knew what they were feeling. And just like that…memories came flooding back, as they were given a chance that they had never really received before. Or perhaps…it was a chance to do something that Frisk never really allowed themselves to take before.

It was a chance to cry, and alleviate the sadness they felt.

As Frisk’s eyes welled up, they quickly buried their face in Cloud’s shoulder and raised their arms to hug back. After he heard Cloud’s voice and the footsteps lead away from the both of them, Frisk cried and their fists clenched Cloud’s shirt.

As Frisk cried, the memories of Asgore’s death in another timeline they experienced, and the fact that they couldn’t save Asriel, and the nightmares of everyone dying also came to mind.

After some moments, Frisk finally calmed down, and let Cloud go from the embrace. They wiped their tears and sniffled, “’M sorry, Cloud,” Frisk’s eyes were open, and Cloud would be able to see more than just the pain from the last battle. It was the pain they felt from their time in the Underground and from other timelines, both known and unknown.

“I know I’m not…as experienced as a leader. But…I’ll still do my best and make sure that not only we accomplish our mission, but that we all get out of this alive too. If it means I have to fight, then I’ll fight,”

With their mind cleared, Frisk nodded and said to Cloud, “I’m ready. There’s just…one thing I want to ask of you before we meet up with the others. Cloud?”

Frisk took a deep breath and made their request, “If…I fight, and I start acting weird or going too far. …Stop me. Okay?”

After Cloud answers, Frisk led the way to meet up with the others. There, they spotted two familiar faces, and they heard a familiar laugh. Of course, it didn’t take long for those brothers to notice their presence.

Frisk answered while crossing their arms, with a grin, “The stairs. How else?”

They gave the answer like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Considering that this was Wario and Waluigi, and they had already reached this area, the possibility that they may have found Mario’s SOUL and hat did come to mind.

Well, at least it looked like the both of them knocked the enemies unconscious.

Frisk turned to look at their allies, and they gave the command, “Let’s search around here! This seems like the perfect place for Dedede to keep Mario’s SOUL and hat,”

As of now, there’s no reason to pick a fight with the Wario brothers. Maybe their command will get a reaction out of the brothers.

Frisk looked at Alicia warily. They really hoped that she wouldn’t needlessly start a fight.

Akira could barely hide the smirk on his face at the sight of Slayer helping out Heavy get across. It was interest to see, that despite them just meeting, they knew how to work as a team and get through obstacles together. It was endearing. Refusing to put the light little Six down as there seemed to be more platforms they needed to traverse, Akira hurried from platform to platform, staying just one platform ahead from the others in case something up ahead wanted to catch them off guard. There were those round ghosts, Boos they were called, but they stopped following once they realized that they couldn't get to them without some kind of fight. What really got Akira to tense was the sight of a purple variation of the round ghost from earlier.

The difference in color wasn't really was shocked him, but instead it was the eyes. Those piercing yellow eyes he's see far too many times... Words could not describe how on edge he was as he immediately moved to a fighting stance, holding Six with one hand while the other grasped his dagger tightly. He wasn't caught off guard in the slightest when the Dark Boo started talking, simply narrowing his eyes in concentration. They were looking for a fight, and Akira seem glad to offer one, just to get those piercing yellow eyes to stop looking at them.

As the room was illuminated by purple flames that had also been coming their way, Akira wasn't very worried. The countless times he's busted into blue flames prepared him for this very moment. He was perfectly blocking Six as well. But for Slayer and Heavy, the Japanese teen wasn't sure what they would do to get out of this situation. Ready to take the brunt of said flames, the raven haired teen was easily taken aback when the classy vampire kicked the flames away from the group of four, preventing anyone from getting hurt. Another smile formed on his face, but it only lasted a second as he was back focusing on their target.

Bringing a hand to his mask, Akira quickly pulled it off, the sound of tearing flesh entered his ears for the thousandth time. As he pulled off said mask, the phantom thief was greeted by the ever so helpful Arsene hovering behind him.
"Eiha!" He commanded and watched as the winged being sent out multiple blasts of darkness the ghost's way. He wasn't sure if his attack would even hurt them, but he took special note to aim for the eyes, in an attempt to blind them. Being ghosts and all, how were they even suppose to fight something like this? Six couldn't do anything, Heavy and Slayer were more physical fighters so wouldn't their attacks just faze through the cocky ghost, and he himself, a sight from any physical skills, only had the power of darkness on his side. If magic actually affect them, he would be sure to follow up with more attacks and hopefully smother them, but this was only a wish; one that he prayed would come true for the sake of not only himself, but also his new friends.

Pipers first thought when she saw Azura was that she had gotten the same idea as she had, to spirit away up the mountain in the dark. She’d thought about it herself but ultimately decided against it, which had turned out to be a doubly good idea as it turned out her theory about who the graybears where calling had been correct, though she wondered why they had only now decided to speak to Azura directly. She theorised that it might harder to target a specific person with whatever the greybeards where using to project their voices than it was to simply shout at 11 volume.

Your a good judge of character it seems, coz your right, I ain't going to stop you. I imagine these bearded fellows ll only get more insistent the longer their calls go unanswered anyway, so this is, I suspect, for the best. As for going with you, I think it might be wise of you to take a sneaking approach for this trip, something I aint suited for.

Why was rather clear, the robot’s furnace bathing her and everything around her in a warm orange glow. Out in the dark woods she would stick out like a sore thumb, rendering the singer’s camo cloak worthless and spoiling spoiling both their night vision. Any half wit could spot the pair a mile off while they would be unable to see anything beyond their little island of light in the inky blackness.

Still. It's is dangerous to go alone, Piper unbuckled the belt and holster carrying her carrion pistol and presented it to the spear wielding woman take this. It might help get you out of a sticky situation, just be aware that it’s a noisy bugger. I’ll be wanting it back later, so be sure to get back safe and sound. It’s the least you can do to repay me for the amount of flack I’m going to get for this from our resident asshat she softly chuckled at the thought of the boss blowing his top when she told him Azura was gone. Anyway. Good luck Azura. I’ll see you soon, and maybe hear you sooner if I’m right about our greybeard friends.



After the small pink creature ran off Naija was left with the agonising wait for them to return with help. It was just her, rosalina, her little starfish companions and the barely holding on Guile all trapped there by the unhealable wound. After what felt like an eternity kirby returned leading someone who was not Dr Solus but one of the other scientists. In hindsight finding someone unhurt was a better idea than the one she had had. She was glad Dr Solus was getting help. What followed was a discussion containing far to many words she did not understand until she was asked to help move Guile to something called a rejuvenation chamber. Naija could at least guess what that did. There was only one slight problem with all this and that was that her hopping did not mix well with helping transport wounded people.

I. Hmm. let me just she muttered as she rapidly tried to solve this puzzle.

Ok. You carry one side and I’ll carry the other

She moved to Guile’s side, wrapped his arm over her shoulders. Then she quickly sang a rising series of three notes that caused her to transform in to best form. Pink scales coated her arms, lower legs, head and torso, her pupils turned to slits, her teeth grew sharp while her fingers and toes gaind claws that she carefully avoided digging into guils skin. The most important thing however, was that strength surged through her veins that the amphibious woman used to, rather unsteadily, stand tall for the first time, lifting Guile with Rosalina's assistance in the process. The two of them then carried him between them in a human crutch, following after Dr light to the rejuvenation chamber.

With the first jump made sucessfully, without the loss of limbs or life, Heavy felt more and more certain that he was in fact NOT going to die from falling to his horrible death in an endless pit! It shouldn't normally have been possible for him to do such things, except without the assistance of Engineer's trusted teleporter. Perhaps in time his Texan-comrade would teach Heavy how to construct such machines? Or a simple bridge, which would take less time. Maybe. Maybe. But for now there was one person that Heavy thanked like no-other; Slayer, the bourgousie gentleman he had shown earlier doubts about. Perhaps he was worthy of a Russian bear-hug afterwards?

The team made their way across the pit slowly but surely, much to Heavy's relief that they were once again back on solid ground. The ghosts had been of no concern to him, simply staring them down and shouting "BOOOH!" at those that dared enact the fury of the Russian Bear! Comrade Slayer took care of those brave enough, but they seemed to be of little danger. It was odd, that this strange group of characters made such a good team. As odd and strange a team as one consisting of an Australian assassin with a pee-complex, a German doctor with dubious healing-machines and medical-licenses, an one-eyed Scottish cyclops that drank too much around his explosives...wait no, Heavy began to see that their little team of Comrades was just fine!

All was not fine however, as the other ghosts made their appearance. They were similar, but different, like an old saying Heavy had heard before. He didn't remember it, but it was probably very smart. These ghosts were purple instead of the normal white, and this surely meant that they were bigger and meaner that the white ghosts, because he had never heard of purple ghosts. The ghost that spoke didn't frighten him, especially not when he was surrounded by his very trustworthy comrades. And the fact that they were eager to get down and dirty as they said, Heavy welcomed. He hadn't fought since that small brawl on the train, and was eager to get some good killing back on the menu!

What did concern him was the wall of purple flames that spew forth towards them shortly afterwards. Normally flames were red, orange and yellow, even Heavy knew that. They taught that in the Soviet schools, basic colourization. But purple was not such a colour, which probably was bad. Very bad. Heavy raised his fists up in front of himself in reflex, hoping to not get too badly burned, which was always a painful experience. But the pain never came, as Slayer flawlessy countered the purple flames, before putting up a boxing-stance. If Slayer was ready to fight these ghosts bare-handed, well who was Heavy to be a lesser man?

Heavy also took up a boxing-stance, swinging his meaty fists back and forth as one would see professional boxers do. He was ready to strike at any tiny-itty-bitty baby ghosts who dared get close to him, but he couldn't help but see what their young comrade also did; the sound of tearing flesh was not a pleasent sound to hear, but he saw the beams of darkness shot towards their enemy. Dark beams...of darkness. It sounded like magic, magic which were like ghosts who too were magical...Was magic the way to fight magic? And how? Heavy didn't know any spells!

But what The Heavy Weapons Guy did know, was how to pretend, which certainly could seem like magic! Instead of holding his hands ready for boxing, Heavy lowered his hands down to each side of his hip, getting ready for something else; he waited for a second, taking mental aim on the ghost closest to him. In a quick movement, he appeared to pull an invisible revolver out of an invisible holster, pointing it at the ghost and shouting very loudly at it. "Pow! Haha!" There was no real gun, no real gunshot and no real holster. Heavy was merely mimicking drawing a gun and shooting the ghost, like a true American cowboy would. The thing was, however, that it could still be very deadly. Countless enemies had met their unseen demise at Heavy's make-believe Showdown. Imagination could be a deadly weapon in the right hands. Hopefully that included The Heavy, if the Ghost was affected by his imagination.

Level: Two
Day/Time: Day Three, Morning
Location: Boo's Castle
Akira @Tenma Tendo, Heavy @ONL, Slayer @Lugubrious
Word Count: 504

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For a castle, it really looked more like a labyrinth to Six, a maze none the less. She took her time to take in the appearance of the incorporeal monarch's castle, being reminded of The Lady's living quarters. The child shivered at the memory of her battle with the demented geisha, not wanting to relive the moment she got her powers. Hugging herself, Six silently hoped that her hunger wouldn't act up like that again, especially durring the mission.

Noticing she was trailing behind the others, Six dissapeared in a puff of smoke, and appeared again behind Akira and Heavy. She looked over them to see Slayer on a platform suspended in the air over a bottomless pit. 'Hmm...maybe I can teleport across?' The child thought, looking behind her in case any Boos tried to sneak up on the group, before looking back at the platforms.

What she didn't expect was Akira wanting to help her across the bottomless room. Climbing onto the thief's back, Six held on tight as he jumped over to one of the platforms, before looking back to their teammates. The child stiffed a giggle, watching Slayer help Heavy across the void.

Once everyone made it across, everything seemed to be fine then. Until a strange varriation, purple in color instead of the usual white, of Boos appeared infront of the group. Six of them, in fact. Irony aside, the Purple Boos appeared to be stronger than their timid counterparts, due to the fact that they're not shying away like normal Boos do. Six noticed that Akira was shaken by the spectres' appearances, keeping the child close to him as he grabbed his dagger. She could see why. The ghosts' eyes. It felt like they could burn into her skin as she looked at them.

The boos suddenly launched a wall of purple fire at the group, illuminating the room a violet glow. Normally Six would've teleported away from the flames, but she was more worried about Akira, as the thief was blocking her from it, to where he would take the hit instead of the child. So she was supprised and relieved when Slayer kicked the wall of fire away from them. Yet their problem wasn't going away yet.

Looking back at the vampire and the russian, Six tried to think of what she could do. While Slayer and Heavy were more experienced in melee combat, the child didn't think they could do much against the ghosts. Then there was her and Akira. The thief could've been their only chance of winning, what could she do? The child didn't stand a chance against Darion with her magic, so she couldn't even help against a few mere Boos.

Six felt that she was at a loss, but didn't want to let her team down. So she summoned up a sliver of dark matter, and sent it towards one of the Purple Boos. She might be the weakest of the group, but that didn't mean she couldn't try to help.

Had Bentley heard the feline character call him 'gimp', he would certainly have...he didn't know, perhaps wheeled himself away further in embarrassment for his handicap disposition? He would have wanted to say something back to Hunter, but who knew how much guts the turtle had these days? But luckily for them all, Bentley was far away enough to not hear it, as he wheeled on full turtle towards the castle.

It was mayhem! Utter chaos, apocalypse, terror and other words that would well-explain the current situation the Tetris Castle as in. Bentley couldn't get a cohesent story out of one specific person/figure/character/thing, but from what his superior brain could gather, someone from the pirate ship had attacked someone called Guile. Badly. No one knew how badly, but bad enough that the castle was in panic. The green turtle tried to aquire more information, but only managed to gather a location; well two to be precise.

Bentley stood - he technically sat in the wheelchair, which in istelf stood - before what he qualifiedly guessed was a teleporter. It was referred to as an elevator, but it looked and felt more like a molecular transferring-machine more than anything else. While Bentley was no stranger to weird machines and technology, he still felt at unease taking an elevator which wasn't an elevator. But rolling into it, he closed his eyes and hoped for the best!

When he opened them again, his turtle-eyes witnessed through his thick glasses a lab that rivalled his own, but this one had robots! Fascinating! But there was also blood, or so he thought. "Drats and curses, what has happened? Was it the floating pirate ship?"

As Frisk apologized, Cloud rested a hand on their head. They apologized for not being an experienced leader and the EX-SOLDIER smiled subtly, “You’re doing fine. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think we would have made it this far.”

Dropping his hand, he asked, “And what’s that?”

Frisk revealed a fear of theirs that made Cloud frown suspiciously. It made him a little uncomfortable that Frisk was afraid to fight. This entire time they all wanted them to fight, but it may have been something they weren’t meant to do. After a momentary pause, he decided, “I will. I will stop you. Now don’t you worry.”

The swordsman then turned with Frisk to head down the stairs. He glanced once over his shoulder at where the door to the Mr. Bright and Mr. Shine room had been. There wasn’t one, and it seemed they would be forced to continue even if any of them had wanted to turn back. The next room as they approached had an interesting glow and Cloud could hear the chime of what sounded like coins as they drew closer. As he and Frisk entered the doorway, the swordsman’s Mako-blue eyes widened in surprise to see the familiar fat menace from earlier. He was still alive…damn. He winced at his annoying laugh and gazed passed the pudgy Wario at the pile of villains unconscious. Had he and the twiggy Waluigi handled those villains themselves? When Wario addressed them as punks, Cloud’s eyes narrowed and he stepped further into the room, his hand naturally grasping the hilt of his blade. He couldn’t believe the two Ws had managed to beat the mini bosses.

“Are they the bosses in this room?” Cloud asked. He then stopped a few feet away from Wario and Waluigi and glanced between the two with a disbelieving look. “How did you beat them? You fart on them too? They must not have been that much of a challenge if you guys put them down.”