Level 3 - (2/30) EXP Location: On the Road Word Count: 504
The Centurion cursed as the Brothers Grimm smashed through their line of vehicles. If only he were made of steel and wire, and not flesh and bone. Still, vengeance would be theirs!
As he wrestled with the monster truck, he felt his strength waning. His arms felt like they could pop out of their sockets! He was leaving two wakes of upturned dirt behind him as his heels dragged through the Earth. Clowns laughter echoes in his ears and he turned briefly to see the mad ice cream truck come charging towards him. Bowser Jr was forced to escape by some powerful weapon. The Sweet Bot was distracted and damaged by his allies but it might only be a matter of time until it came upon him. Agoston furrowed his brow and turned his attention back to the monster truck, trusting his allies that they would kill the Sweet Bot.
He screamed out in anger as the monster truck slipped through his grasp and his feet lost their balance. Falling forward onto all fours he watched as the monster truck began to speed away. Suddenly, a blast of plasma struck into the mechanical menace and it slowed once more to a halt. Briefly his eyes glanced towards the source. "Yes, Franklin!" Agoston celebrated. The man Micheal had freed was certainly proving his aim was true.
The Centurion scrambled to his feet desperately, as if the halted monster truck was an oasis in a desert. Like a mad man he latched back onto the truck and stumbled around to the ground of it, gripping it by both sides of the hood. "Incredibilis!" He grinned as he slipped into his native tongue. He raised his fist in the air and slammed his knuckles into the hood of the car. Channeling his unstoppable energy and the heat that was gifted to him, he was trying to do as much damage to the monster trucks engine as possible. Mechanical bits stuck up through the hood of the car. Those looked important! He punched the monster truck's pistons and tried to batter exposed engine parts into submission. Shoulder pain throbbed through his form but he was a practiced soldier, and ignored it to focus on the battle.
The Centurion tried to position is form so the machine guns would have as little of his form to hit as possible. He was so close to it he might be hard to hit. After a few strikes, he reached down and tried to wrench one of the miniguns off of the side of the car and slam it across the front of the truck. His main focus was keeping the truck still if it started up again, and continuing to lay down impact after impact to bring the trucks inner workings to stagger and studder. With help from some of his allies, this truck may never move again! At least the next time Frankline fired a plasma bolt at it it would hopefully be a much easier target.
Linkle shook her head as the power of the healing rabbit stitched up her savaged eardrums. She nodded her thanks at Heal as he bounded away over the side to help out the other rabbids, and stood up in the seat of Bowsers cart. She had been lucky for that spider shield, she'd have been much more hurt when she slammed into the side without that to absorb the blow.
Of course she had no time to could her blessings because now she could see what was coming for them, the thing that had been hiding in the light of that fire face she'd killed. She'd thought the Bowsermobile was big, but this was a monster. That was the only way to describe it, a cart monster. Agoston was doing his best to drag it back, but even his mass was no match for the power of the thing, and as it tore lose from his grip the only thing standing between it and Bowsers cart was the Koopa King himself.
The courage of the king was shown by very few. Instead of diving for safety or driving away and threw himself into the jaws of the beast. He paid for it, hard, and as Linkle watched in shock as spikes and shell splinters were splayed over the scrubland the Bowesermobile unexpectedly started moving. The shock of it made Linkle lose her balance, sending her tumbling backwards over the side and onto the ground below. As the cart pulled away she could only try to leap up and run from the monster bearing down join her.
Luckily for her the rabbids she'd befriended last night came in her moment of need, swooping in and launching her through the air into their cart as it sped away. They hopped back in, leaving Linkle to only watch in horror as the monster mulched her mighty steed.
She could almost hear it whinny as it went under the tire.
Linkle clenched her fists, bared her teeth, and marched to the front of the cart. "Hey!" She called to the driver. "Bring us along side that monster. It's gonna pay for what it did to Bowser and my bike!"
At first the driver didn't seem to understand. What was she going to be able to do to a machine as massive as that. Then Linkle pulled something from behind her ear and gave it a squeeze. The hissing noise could be heard and recognized even over the roar of the engines and gunfire. They were familliar with that noise from last night too. The driver gave a wild laugh and spun the cart around, headed back toward the Brothers Grimm.
As they neared the stalled out monster Agoston was already making headway, wrestling with it and trying to beat it to pulp. Linkle grinned. That made this easier. As they sped up she plucked one of her bolts from and crossbow and flicked it away, replacing it with the green, sulphurous Organ she'd gotten from the exploding monsters last night.
She wondered which part she should use it on. Everything was so armored. She only had the one, she she needed to make it count. Then, as she watched, the Princess pulled in from and pumped a shot into the big black thing before pulling away. She could hear the hissing of escaping air all the way from over here with how massive the thing was, but did that mean the monster rolled around on what were essentially balloons?
"Go along the either side!" She shouted, and pulled up along the side with the undamaged tire. It was even bigger up close. No way could you pierce that with an arrow. So she let fly with the Creeper Heart, shooting it smack into the tire as the cart flew past. Even if the impact didn't set it off there was no way the monster wouldn't run it over if it started moving again.
The rabbit cart pulled away and Linkle suddenly remembered to pull her hood up over her rabbit ears and pull done to try and mute the sound of the explosion.
Slamming his naked fist upon the deafening ringing of the alarm clock, Mario leapt from his bed as he hastily grasped for his overalls. Yet as soon as he planted his foot on the wooden floor, he could feel the toll of yesterday nearly crush him to the ground. His entire body ached from head to toe - a side-effect from the double role he played yesterday. Despite being beaten by Geno as a revenant before his old consciousness was resurrected to battle Megadragonbowser, the usually acrobatic plumber believed that he would be able to shake it off as usual. After all, he fought stronger and deadlier battles with the Koopa King, so no doubt Mario believed wake up more invigorated and ready to go.
And yet, here he was in such a crippling state.
It was such an alienating feeling - one he was not used to as of lately anyways - yet excruciatingly familiar - a reminder of his mortality and growing age.
Once he was able to get his clothes on, the plumber proceeded to stretch his body to the best of his abilities - hearing every bone and muscle pop into place - before straggling out the door.
"Hello-a?" Mario called out drowsily as eyes darted from one place of the castle's interior to the other. For a minute, his head was shrouded in the stratosphere of World 9, before suddenly realizing that he was alone. Very few souls roamed the castle square, mostly minor toad servants and other miscellaneous figures. The royal table was left abandoned, no doubt the place where the plans of the day was discussed. The plumber sighed in solemn shame.
Yep. He definitely overslept.
Seeing a piece of chocolate cake by the corner of the table, Mario proceeded to slam the whole thing in his mouth as he began to survey the plans on the table - which included what appeared to be a map of the entire world around them.
"Looks-a-like you overslept as-a-well, huh bro?" a familiar voice called from behind him.
Mario cocked his head back to see his brother walking towards him.
"Oi?" the senior plumber muttered confusingly, "You didn't go with the others?"
Luigi shook his head.
"And-a-before you ask," he replied assuringly, "No, it wasn't my choice."
Mario would eye his brother carefully, making sure if he was lying again or not.
"What do you mean?" he asked again, desiring much of the context he clearly missed.
"I was to stay with a bunch of the others here, while a selected few were to go on two-a-different missions on behalf of Peach." the younger brother explained, "In addition, a Pokemon trainer of some kind was also here to explain the concept of Pokeballs and what not, along with a bunch of other things~"
Luigi then explained about everything else - from the loot boxes, spirit-meddling, and the 'Land of Adventure' quests that had been debriefed - most notably the 'Convoy' mission. Mario listened to most of what was said, but his mind was purely focused at the mission at hand. After reading the notes, Mario rushed to the front of the Castle. He hoped that there was a cart or some other kind of vehicle still left in the driveway. Lucky for him, there was one. And not only was it a standard cart, it happened to be Mario's own cart from the most recent Mario Kart tourney. He was surprised that it was still around, let alone having survived Galeem's onslaught.
"Well," the red-cladded plumber breathed as he proceeded to enter his kart. It was a tight fit considering his size, but it was manageable. He then turned towards Luigi, "Looks like I'ma off then. You still wanna come, bro?"
Green stache slowly shook his head no.
"I'ma good bro." he replied before patting his brother on the back, "But please be-a-careful out there. I heard it's gonna be one hell-ova tussle."
Mario smirked as he tipped his cap.
"Good." red stache replied cockily as he looked forward confidently, "Then it's-a-off to the races."
While Mario was trying to rush and catch up, Geno was fortunate enough to join up with the Convoy group on time. And even if he was late, he would've still been able to fly and catch up anyways. The doll stayed in the air for most of the early fight, picking off the weaker vehicles and pilots with his wooden cannon. Things looked to be in their favor, with Geno concentrating fully on the last two vehicles in front of him.
Unfortunately for him, tunnel vision caught the better of him, resulting in his failure to assess the incoming enemy reinforcements that were barreling towards him. Before he could get a good look, the doll felt three solid shots rattle through his wooden frame. Wood splintered and cracked as two hit his torso, with the third ripping through his cannon arm. Stunned by this ordeal, the star warrior found himself briefly falling to his doom and skidding across the rough soil below...
But luckily, this terrible fate wasn't preordained. As if Star Road granted him a second chance, he found himself surrounded in a mysterious green mist - unaware of the person who casted it. Yet he found his wounds quickly regenerating to the point where he was good as new. Quickly, he was able to steady himself as his thrusters barely allowed him to avoid hitting the ground that was just inches below him.
The star warrior wanted to find and thank the person who helped him, however he won't be able to do it now. Yet as he prepared to fire upon the giant monster truck that entered the battle, he would suddenly witness it reeling out of control as the others were able to successfully take it down. Yet it came at a steep cost, as the Bowsermobile was soon compromised as well. And then, in a blur of chaotic fury, Geno would find himself face to face with a giant bot... forged from the same ice cream truck that attempted to rip the star warrior to shreds.
As his allies assembled to combat this newfound threat, Geno proceeded to finally take action himself. He rose his hands towards the heavens and from the clouds above a volley of rainbow stars proceeded to bombard upon the clownish robot without mercy. It was time to get down to business...
And little did he or the others realize, a lone kart was speeding towards the battle at great speed... with a certain mustached plumber at the wheel.
Thanks to the support of his allies slowing down the monster truck, it didn't do as much damage as Blazermate thought it would. Although cracks in a shell for a shelled creature probably weren't the best thing, she already had her medi beam on the big guy before he was hit, so while he was reeling from shellshock she was already on the healing job even as the disorientated king skimmed away from the battle in his shell. However, she had to break off when her scan showed that Bowser's son, who was commandeering the anti-air turret that was letting her fly, had been hit with a heavy attack and was sent blasting through the air. Seeing this, Blazermate broke off her beam on Bowser who was healed a little, and flew to try to slow the young boy's fall. Especially with how badly injured he was after that blast. She was spared the need to rush all the way to his aid by Poppi, who, after performing a magical girl transformation, saved both jr and her masterpon froma messy landing.
Down below on the top of the monster truck a second blast of screaming souls rang out, but this time it was aimed in the opposite direction. Mimikyu had used copycat in retaliation, giving Mr Grimm with his own spectral medicine as the gang leader and the inside of his vehicle was subjected to a frightful STAB attack from the tiny ghost pokemon. The rodent sized mimikyu failed to consider recoil however, and was sent blasting off again after it's master as a result. It, however, was conscious during it's inadvertent flight, and it's terminal velocity was miniscule, and so managed to guide it's decent down after bowser jr with relative ease, landing neatly on top of his head as he dangled from Poppi's grasp. Then it copycated her transformation, but this only resulted in a pair of long spectral ribbons forming around the base of it's fake ears. The ghost inspected it's reflection on a particularly well polished part of poppi's body and decided that it looked hella cute today.
Blazermate made sure to keep a lookout at everything around her. Most of the team seemed to be doing fine taking out the clown in the ice cream truck, while Ratchet and a few others took out the pair in the buggy without much issue. Seeing she wasn't needed there, she flew next to poppi and put her healing beam on the young koopa. When she healed Bowser Jr. up enough, she hit him with a revive to wake him up, saying. "Ya ok little buddy? You and your dad got hit pretty hard.".
The response she got was the groaning of jr’s awakening that ended with a shake of the head to clear the senses, which revealed to the boy that he was currently high above the ground. He panicked for a brief moment before realising he was in poppies grip rather falling and then, finally, actually registered what Blazermate had said. "I’m fine, I'm fine." he insisted a little groggily, weakly waving a hand at her dismissively before realising that said hand should not be empty and glancing around. "I’ve had castles dropped on me before that… whatever it was, was nothing." Jr said before spotting what he was looking for. The gadbruh, lost during the flight, sticking into the ground via its handle some way away.
He nodded to himself before adding "Wait what was that about my dad?" in a worried tone.
Once she had him patched up enough she flew off, for in battle a medic’s thankless work was never done, leaving jr behind as he began demanding to be put down or at least thrown to his aimlessly drifting clown car. Her destination was Bowser, who had finally stopped his unintended exit from the battlefield and was now stomping back into the fray with a large crack on the right side of his shell. The koopa king winced visibly each time his right foot struck, but what must have hurt most was his pride.
Upon arriving at her target Blazermate landed on his hat rest as she continued to heal the guy, the crack in his shell getting thinner as she healed him. Much like his son before him. "Man, you and your son have some great constitution huh? Both of you took big hits and are still ready for more with a bit of healing.~ she said, all while sentry fire was pelting the monster truck which had been left vulnerable by a shot from Franklin‘s plasma pistol.
Bowser looked relieved when she mentioned his son, though as with jr that relieve expression did not extend to his tone ”YEAH WE DO! TAKES MORE THAN SOME EDGY TRY HARD PUNK IN A BIG CAR TO TAKE DOWN REAL BAD GUYS LIKE US.” he boasted, through occasional grunts of pain at having his body rapidly knit back together. ”AND WHEN I’M DONE WITH HIM NOT EVEN YOU’LL BE ABLE TO STITCH HIM BACK TOGETHER” he added, before drawing in breath and igniting a fireball in his gut, which he spat at one of the monster truck’s few remaining unmolested wheels.
"hehe. Well, either way we'll be getting a part from this when we're done. That's the medabot way!." Blazermate said, with a bit of a robotic coldness to her tone. Getting an idea form Bowser's fireball, she scanned the monster truck, and with a much more chipper tone said. "Hey Bowser, aim there with the next fireball." Blazermate said, pointing Bowser towards the fuel tank of the mosnter truck. "Thats its weak point. Pretty sure it'll explode if you hit that." She said, her Scan ability showing the truck's weakpoints.
”IT WILL? NICE!” Bowser responded before letting fly another fireball. The pair were still some way off, Bowser’s return on foot was far slower than his uncontrollable shell spinning egress, so both slow moving fireballs would take a little while to arrive.
"Move away from the truck fellas!" blazermate yelled, her mechanical voice making its way across the battlefield. If Bower's fireballs hit the truck's fuel tank, it was going to blow sky high. And it'd be best for anyone who couldn't take the explosion to get far away. The enturian, in his firey visage, would probably be fine form the firey explosion, but anyone else nearby would be in trouble. Thankfully Poppi and Bowser Jr. were away from the truck, so they were safe at least.
Level 4- (3/40) And Level 2- (2/20 EXP) Difficulty Level 1 Location: Paved Wilderness Word Count: 3717 A collab between @ProPro@thedman@Simple Unicycle
Insanity spread all across the battlefield as the Courier made his way back to cover with the Bowsermobile. After hurling himself up and over the side he took a moment to get a brief idea of his surroundings. The second buggy had evaded the attack from his heracross, but honestly it was a total chump compared to the rest of the enemies. The reinforcement buggy seemed to have been totally destroyed by one of the newbies and Ratchet and Michael joined in to team up against the guy with the giant ears and his rat, so that wasn’t very concerning. The monster truck had been stalled but still presented the biggest, most clear threat to his immediate position. Meanwhile the ice cream truck had turned into a flying mecha robot, but that was getting swarmed by a bunch of his allies. Ok, this was weird, but as always the Courier was quick to adapt to the situation and do whatever would be the best for himself at the time.
”Howdy,” he said to the resident koopa mage, Kamek, the next seat over as he fiddled with his pip-boy. A second later a song came blaring from the radio function. He tapped his shoe to the beat for a second, humming the tune. ”That jingle, jangle, jingle-” Then he pulled out the weapon he had received from Gaige’s spirit, the Revolution, and took aim on the monster truck’s closest wheel. The machine gun fired volley after volley of acidic rounds directly into the tire’s hub cap, which would eat rapidly through the metal and into the axel. After a good solid few seconds of concentrated fire the driver of the truck would be without a front left wheel, throwing the whole thing off balance and leave it grounded.
”As she goes riding merrily along.” The Courier blew the smoke out from the hot muzzle, a self-satisfied shit eating grin plastered across his face.
As Gene smashed the Sand Shark into unusable scrap metal, its two occupants went flying right passed the God Hand, one with a little more dignity than the other. ”WAAAAAAH!” cried the little orange rat, but the long eared human tucked and rolled with the force, using the momentum to jump back into action. He twisted around, pulling out some sort of firearm, right next to where his little friend had been buried in the sand.
Ratchet also landed nearby, wrench out and ready to fight. ”Jak, Daxter! I don’t want to have to do this.”
Daxter comically pulled himself from the ground, rolling back a moment then jumping to his feet. He patted away the dirt from his fur then jumped up on Jak’s shoulder. ”Ratchet? Is that you? Woah, you got tall! What’s the matter, you got jealous of my boy Jak here the last two times we beat your butt?”
Jak scoffed, cocking his gun and clearly ready for a fight. ”It’s too bad for you that I do want to do this, Ratchet. Bring in all the reinforcements you want.”
”Yeah! Because we’ll pound’em into the pavement! Well, mostly Jak will. Won’t ya Jak?”
With an annoyed grunt, Gene picked himself up off the ground and dusted himself off. He succeeded in disabling the Sand Shark, and while he wasn't hurt, it was still a little embarrassing to get knocked on his ass! Still, he approached the drivers of the buggy, who were facing off against that... Cat thing. Ratchet was his name? Yeah, Ratchet, that sounded right.
The duo consisted of a man of about average height, with long ears and a killer goatee, while the other person ('Is that the right word?') was a small orange creature perched on the man's shoulder. Judging by what Ratchet said, their names were Jak and Daxter. The orange otter-weasel creature thing was smack talking Ratchet, and Gene figured that now was about time to make his entrance.
Walking forward slowly, confidently, Gene cracked his knuckles and shot the pair a grin. "Newsflash, little guy! You can talk shit all you want, we're still gonna wipe the floor with you and your buddy!" He still had a bit of juice left in the God Hand, and was ready to kick ass and take names!
Meanwhile, Michael stopped his scooter behind the now disabled buggy, flicking out the kickstand and setting the vehicle down. Getting up, he took a moment to adjust his aviators before walking over to join Ratchet and Gene. Lifting up his Uzi, he held it in both hands and aimed it at Jak and Daxter. "I'll give you one chance. Drop the gun, and give up. It doesn't have to end like this."
”Don’t underestimate Jak. He’s got great moves,” Ratchet warned, swinging his omniwrench around a bit to showcase his new reach with his longer limbs.
”Hey! And what am I, chopped liver? Kick their asses, Jak!”
”This is gonna be fun!” Jak immediately dashed toward Ratchet, gun forward like a makeshift club, with a sudden rocket-like speed. Ratchet, familiar with Jak’s fighting style, was prepared and backflipped just out of reach, but Jak wasn’t done. He spun upward into a high jump uppercut, clear above everyone’s heads, then spun again with his legs extended out. Ratchet blocked the spinning kick with his wrench but was pushed back. Meanwhile Jak fired several volleys of some sort of yellow energy bullets from his gun, each one deadly accurate and aimed at a different target: one for Gene, Michael, Ratchet, and Michael’s scooter.
Michael, seeing Jak jump up into the air, lifted his Uzi up in an attempt to land a shot on him. As Jak began to fire, Michael was able to activate his Bullet Time, moving to the side to narrowly dodge the yellow projectile fired his way. His scooter, on the other hand, fared much worse as the bullet struck, tearing it apart and rendering it unusable without heavy repairs. With the Bullet Time still active, Michael steadied his aim and fired several shots at Jak, aiming for center mass.
Gene watched in amazement as Jak dashed toward Ratchet, the lombax dodging out of the way with surprising speed. Had they fought before? Well, Ratchet did say that he knew Jak, maybe they had sparred or something in the past. Anyway that wasn't important right now, what was important was that Jak suddenly rocketed up in the air! He was still attacking Ratchet, who blocked, while simultaneously shooting at them!
Feeling his instincts kick in, Gene sidestepped out of the way of the blast, an impressed whistle escaping his lips at his smooth dodge. Still, reflex wouldn't pull him through this entire fight! He noticed Michael, the guy who pulled up next to them, managing to move out of the way of the shots and firing some of his own at Jak. Gene decided that rushing in while Michael was shooting at Jak would be too risky, so he waited for a lull in the gunfire, ready to pounce as soon as he saw an opening.
Ratchet held up his omniwrench in the path of the yellow eco shot, dispersing the energy with a good heavy swing. Good thing the tool was made to last! But Jak was still right in front of him, as crazy mobile as ever, while Ratchet lacked Clank who was the main source of his own quick mobility. Luckily that wasn’t a major issue, as Michael’s uzi shots drew in Jak’s attention.
Because he aimed for center of mass, the bullets all struck the center chest piece of Jak’s shiny armor, bouncing off relatively harmlessly. The force still put Jak a bit off balance though, interrupting his chain of attack and getting his attention.
”Ooh, that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise! Like that overripe banana nobody wants at the market!” Daxter commented at rapid pace. His capacity for talking, even in the middle of danger, was impressive.
In an instant the gun in Jak’s hands changed, the muzzle shrank by more than half and instead of a yellow magazine it was equipped with a red one. As the gun morphed, Jak rolled into a very long jump away from Ratchet, toward both Gene and Michael. No sooner had his toes touched the ground did he pull the trigger. The gun fired off an impressively large red cone of energy, short range but wide enough to hit both Michael and Gene. Ratchet took advantage of the opening to throw his omniwrench like a spinning boomerang, nailing Jak in the back only to return to the magnetized glove, back home to its owner.
As Gene watched the proceedings, he could feel the God Hand's power draining, slowly, until finally, he cursed and slapped the Deistic Brace back onto his arm. Looks like he was knocked back down to normal for the rest of this fight.
He watched as Jak rolled toward him and Michael, the gun in his hand transforming in an instant, and the moment he stopped he fired the gun in their direction. Oh crap, this thing was like a shotgun! Gene tried to backflip out of the way, but it was too little too late; he felt a burning sensation as he made contact with the cone, and let out a grunt of pain.
He wasn't sure if Michael was alright, but he knew that he needed to get Jak's attention on him. So, with the man now within range, Gene decided to bust out his Roulette Wheel to lay the smackdown on Jak! He could feel the wheels of fate spinning, deciding just what he'd do...
WOOHOO! BALLBUSTER!
Gene found himself running up to Jak and, in the blink of an eye, delivering a kick to the man's poor gonads. Gene let out a laugh as he watched Jak cradle his damaged manhood. "Come on guys, let's beat the crap out of him while he's still reeling!"
Gene himself began to punch the stunned man to keep him in that state while Michael and Ratchet made it over.
Michael, due to his Bullet Time, was able to see Jak transform his weapon and aim it at him, allowing him enough time to leap out of the way, hitting the ground. Unfortunately for him, he didn't anticipate the weapon's large cone of fire, and he soon felt pain shoot up on the right side of his body as he was hit by the far edge of the cone. "Ow, goddamnit!" He shouted out, gritting his teeth through the pain as he lifted himself up. Looking around, he began to walk over to Jak, seeing that Gene had him incapacitated. "Say goodnight, asshole." Lifting up his Uzi, he began to pistol-whip Jak in an attempt to take him down for good.
Ratchet chose to stay back rather than move in on the attack. He had a bad feeling about what was about to happen, a feeling that was soon proven to be correct. He switched out his omniwrench for the bombuilder and laid down two remote mines near the group, just in case.
”Woah! Ah! I’ll protect you, Jak! Ouch! Gah! Stop it!” Daxter scurried about, trying to take as many hits for Jak as his little ottsel body could, sparing his friend from at least some of the punishment. After one too many smacks to the head, Daxter stumbled around like a drunk, little stars flying around his head. ”Bartender, you should’ve cut me off,” he mumbled through a clear concussion, falling over.
”I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” Bellowed Jak, his voice much deeper and booming with power. In an instant the man’s skin changed to a purple-gray color, his eyes became as black as the void, his muscles bulked, long claws and horns sprouted, and a black-purple energy began crackling in the air around him, surging through his body.
Jak jumped up in a sudden explosion of power, energy surging all around him. Only one word came to mind to describe this transformation: monster. With one swipe of his claws Jak showed off a new impressive power and speed, aiming to gut both Gene and Michael together. Of course even if he missed, the crackling dark eco energy would still leave a nasty mark and cause incredible pain.
”Don’t let him touch you!” Ratchet called out. ”That energy he makes when he’s like this is basically anti-life!” He kept one finger on the detonator trigger. Hopefully the other two noticed the bombs and would lure Dark Jak back a few more feet, or at least get out of the blast zone themselves.
Michael took a step back as the transformation began, looking on in horror. He took a few more steps back, but before he could get away Jak's claw swiped in front of him. He managed to dodge the claw itself, but the energy radiating off it struck his left arm, causing intense pain to shoot through it. Michael cried out in agony, falling to his knees from the pain. Looking around and noticing the bombs laid by Ratchet, he dragged himself back onto his feet, and began to limp away from the blast zone. When he got a decent distance away from the bombs, he turned back towards Jak and lifted his Uzi. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, and his injury forcing him to shoot one-handed, his shots weren't as accurate as they could have been. He pulled down on the trigger and didn't let go, firing around twenty rounds in Jak's direction.
"OH CRAP!" Gene stumbled back away from Jak as the man transformed into some sort of... Demon! He felt panic bubble up within him that he hadn't felt since Azel activated his own God Hand during their fight. Gene knew that he didn't have time to worry about fighting, because if Jak's transformation was anything like the God Hand, it made him nigh-invincible.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a claw swinging his way, and Gene backflipped away, the energy arching from Jak's claw glancing his side. At first, Gene didn't feel anything... But that was only for a moment, as soon his entire body was screaming out in pain! He gave a short yell of agony, but gritted his teeth. He needed to take down Jak, and, spotting Ratchet's mines, found the perfect opportunity.
"I got one last trick up my sleeve, demon boy!" Gene pointed dramatically at Jak, grinning, before turning around quickly. "AND THAT'S HIGH-TAILING IT OUT OF HEEEEEEEEEERE!" Gene began to sprint away, hoping to lure Jak to the mines so Ratchet could detonate them.
Dark Jak wasted absolutely no time in leaping after his prey. The feral beast-like mind of this form prioritized Gene over Michael as the bigger threat. He leaped high I to the air, nearly twelve feet, diving right for the God Hand user claws first. Bullets whizzed by, most missing or striking his armor but a couple outliers hitting some arm flesh.
”Kaboom!” Ratchet triggered the detonator, setting off both bombs in a large explosion. The shockwave sent Dark Jak, already high in the air, flying even further with greater force than he expected. He overshot everyone by a good several meters, flying overhead, until he crashed into the ground near his wrecked Sand Shark.
”Gragh!” Dark Jak jumped back up to his feet to stare down his three foes. He was covered in a lot of bruises and cuts, the kind of injuries that would have knocked out a lesser man. But Dark Jak was running on more than just adrenaline. He was fueled by the energy of dark eco. It gave him the strength to keep going, and they were about to see that strength first hand. The eco mutant howled in unbridled rage and grabbed the wreckage of his Sand Shark. In one heaving motion Dark Jak hurled the wreckage of the vehicle at all three. Once the car had left terra firma, Jak’s color came back. Claws receded and his eyes turned green. Exhausted from the wounds, Jak collapsed in a miracle of good timing. Of course a scrapped car was still flying at Ratchet, Gene, and Michael.
Gene quickly stopped and pivoted as soon as he heard Ratchet detonate the mines, a goofy grin making its way on his face. With a shouted "YEAH!" and a fist pump, Gene watched as Jak soared through the air from the power of the blast! "That should take him down!" Gene said to his team mates, still grinning as he watched Jak land by his wrecked Sand Shark...
And then get back up. Looking pissed.
Gene's grin fell as he watched Jak grab the wrecked buggy and start sprinting at them. "... If we live through this, remind me to never open my big dumb mouth again," he said to no one in particular, as he watched Jak chuck the buggy at them. He had a little time to notice Jak falling to the ground, back in his human form, before the buggy arrived.
Acting quickly, Gene did a little juke before quickly dropping down further for a sweep kick. It lowered him just barely enough for the Sand Shark to go flying past him overhead, and he released a relieved sigh as he stood back up... Only to wince as he realized that maybe his teammates weren't so lucky.
"Oh, shi-" Michael could barely dodge in time as the wrecked buggy was suddenly thrown at him. He hit the deck, feeling the vehicle pass over him and land in the distance. Getting up and dusting himself off, he took a moment to catch his breath. "Holy fuck...that was insane." After a few deep breaths, he walked over to Jak, making sure he was down. "Alright, someone...someone convert him, and let's get out of here."
Ratchet flipped to the side in an effort to avoid the flying dune buggy, but he was too slow to react. Fast as he was, he just wasn’t expecting it. The lombax squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of the impact… only to suddenly feel himself jerking to the side much faster. Ratchet opened his eyes to see the Sand Shark narrowly avoiding him. As he landed on his feet, he saw what had given him the sudden speed he needed.
”Clank! You really saved my bacon just now, partner!”
“Indeed. I believe the expression is ‘no man gets left behind?’”
Ratchet and Clank both looked over to Jak, collapsed in a heap not too far off. Michael urged someone to convert him, but before Ratchet could respond, Daxter came scurrying in. The itself positioned himself on Jak’s chest and grabbed him by the collar. ”Get up Jak! I’ve got your back, but you can’t expect me to take them all on by myself! You’ve gotta get some of the glory! WAKE UP JAK! Maybe chubby’s breath here can wake you up? Hey, want to try it out for me, round and proud?” he gestured to Michael.
Ratchet strut forward shaking his head to Clank. ”Looks like even Galeem can’t change Daxter.”
“Indubitably!”
”I’ve got this, guys.” Ratchet drew a friend Heart from his chest and cast it down at the duo. Daxter freaked out at first, but the energy soon enveloped both him and Jak. Color returned to the duo, their eyes cleared, and a moment later Jak was regaining consciousness.
”Ugh. Why do I feel like I got run over by a yakcow?” He rubbed his head then looked around, seeing four figures standing over him. Two looked like really weird humans with incredismall ears, but the other two… ”Ratchet? Clank?”
”Oh great!” Daxter cut in. ”Every time we see you yahoos we get roped into some kind of multiple world inter dimensional crisis! If you wanna talk, ever heard of a phone?”
Jak and Ratchet both shook their heads together, each cracking a smile at Daxter’s antics. ”Well I’m game. Who or what do we get to shoot, punch, or blow up?”
Michael grunted at Daxter's remarks, but he was unable to bring himself to do anything other than frown. Right now, they had more important things to worry about. Turning around, he gestured towards the monster truck and Sweet Bot in the distance. "Those guys. We'll explain everything later, all you need to know for now is that they're trying to kill us. And now, that includes you as well."
Gene gave a sigh of relief as he saw that Jak and Daxter had been turned to their side. Jak asked just who they were after, and Michael pointed out the other cars attacking the rest of the group. Gene gave a nod in confirmation. ”Glad to have you two on board! You sure as hell can pack a punch big guy. Your, uh, pet, on the other hand..." Gene trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.
”Hey! I’m no pet, biceps-for-brains! You just pissed off the god Orange Lightning! Let’s get outta here Jak.” Jak and Ratchet could only chuckle at Daxter’s antics, but at the end of the day the group had two new powerful heroes.
Donnie gaped as the truck transformed into, of all things, a giant robot that, keeping with the Goblin comparisons, would give one of their shredders a run for their money. He had no more time to think about it though as a stream of high-caliber bullets flew in his direction from robot’s giant rotating gun. He managed to avoid the gunfire, but he was already breathing heavily. He had overtaxed his energy reserves, and was running on empty. He’d need to wait for his body to recover before he could cast more spells...which could make grabbing the clown a lot more difficult. He mentally called upon the massive reserves of Elemental Air in the Fists of the Heavens, using the wind currents to enhance his speed, making it much more difficult for Sweet Bot to hit him while he gave himself the time he needed to recover. Thankfully, being a monk, that process would be quick, quicker than a mage’s Mana regeneration for sure...but he’d need the time to do that, and the Fists would allow him to engage in evasive maneuvers while he waited.
“I need to recover!” he shouted to the others, “Try to avoid its attacks until I can cast my magic again! “ He smiled devilishly. “Then the fun starts!”
Fortunately for Din, Sweet Bot seemed to focus on Donnie, leaving her and Gogoat unscathed. But seeing as how Gogoat’s attack merely left a small dent on the side of the truck, Din realized that she should adopt the tactic employed by Donnie; attacking the driver. She was grateful that Donnie had opened up an entrance into the machine, but as Sweet Bot rocketed up into the air, Din found that she had no way to take advantage of it. Two ideas came to mind, both likely to end in failure. Still, there was nothing stopping Din from trying, so at first she cast the Spell of Winter towards Sweet Bot’s rockets, hoping that cooling the flaming jets might disable it and bring it back to the ground. Her other plan involved launching herself up with the help of Gogoat into the robot ice cream truck, but she would hold off on that unless her first attack failed to make an impact.
Try as she might, Din’s spell ended up melting under the flare of Sweet Tooth’s rockets, only slowing it down momentarily as its ice froze over the ports. For his part, the clownish driver scarcely seemed to notice. He sprayed an almost lazy burst of gatling rounds over the scenery, little threat for anyone keeping a close eye on him, before zeroing in on Donnie. Needles went to launch a Laughing Ghost at the disk-borne monk, bound to home in on the monk and blow him to smithereens, only for a sudden jerk to throw off his aim.
Unable to freeze the rockets, Din resorted to her next plan of attack. Riding Gogoat a little further away, she turned back towards Sweet Bot and began accelerating. A certain distance away, Gogoat leapt majestically, and at the height of the Pokemon’s arc, Din stood up and leapt from Gogoat’s back towards the leg of the robot. Din, dressed in red, jumped from her green steed in midair, an action that caused the ghosts of numerous similarly betrayed dinosaurs with long tongues to stir in agitation, but Gogoat managed to land safely back on the ground, and the abandoned spirits settled down.
Poppi appeared from behind the Sweet Bot, planted a solid cross in its chest’s passenger-side windshield that left the glass with a spiderweb crack, and boosted away. Tora, however, stayed behind; the intrepid Nopon leaped down onto the macabre mech and yanked a wrench from his overalls. With practiced hands he began to sabotage the Sweet Bot’s machinery. A moment later, Din herself latched onto the machine, having been flung up onto the low-flying deathbot’s fuselage by her Gogoat companion. The extra weight plus Tora’s hijinx worked to quickly exhaust the Sweet Bot’s fuel supply, and it began to descend. With a snarl, Needles engaged the Sweet Bot’s drop attack, and it plummeted to the earth with a giant slam that shook the ground. Tora leaped from it before it got up to speed, and the ever-attentive Poppi caught him, though the impact jarred the wrench from his wing.
Din, likewise, jumped from the machine even though she had just managed to get on it before it gained too much speed in its drop, landing on Gogoat, who managed to catch her, without injury. Din somewhat resented her wasted effort, but at least the machine was now more-or-less grounded. She rode away, rounding back to face Sweet Bot head on, looking for any new developments.
From the dust, Sweet bot rose, recovering quickly but smoking out the back. A salvo of bullets zipped upward, forcing Poppi to disengage with her cargo.
Donnie gritted his teeth as he called on the Fists, gunning the Disc as far as it would normally go and beyond, as he noticed that the clown-like robot was aiming for him, only to feel a rush of relief as Tora and Poppi threw off its aim. Better yet, he had completely recovered by this point. Now it was time for the main event.
Maintaining his incredible speed, Donnie aimed straight for the hole he had made in Sweet Bot’s cockpit, weaving around any further attacks, and soon he was right next to Needles himself, the Fists sheathed and with his hands directly grabbing Needles’ left arm.
”GET! OUT!” he yelled, as he attempted to bodily haul the killer clown out of the driver’s seat with all of his strength, aided by the fact that Needles wasn’t wearing a seatbelt for some reason, and throw the bastard to the ground below. He kept an eye out for any desperate moves by either Needles or Sweet Bot itself, and would disengage if it looked like he was going to get blindsided.
Through brutish, Needles was no oaf. Donnie’s approach and intrusion did not go unnoticed, and by the time the monk made it inside the cab, the clown was ready. Donnie latched on to his arm, aiming to yank him from the Sweet Bot’s controls, but Needles wasn’t in there for his own safety. With a guttural bellow he swung a viciously-serrated machete at Donnie’s head. If granted even a moment’s leeway, he’d be going for his sawed-off shotgun in the passenger’s seat next, which would mean a terribly messy end for the interloper.
Of course, the interior struggle demanded Needles’ attention, leaving the Sweet Bot itself ambling straight forward without launching any kind of attack.
The clown’s swing was vicious, but it was the wild swing of an untrained street fighter..Lots of power, but little skill. He had seen similar fighters during his stint in the fighting pits of the Brawler’s Guild, and they were usually small-fries who always lost to someone who knew what they were doing. It was a simple matter to dodge the strike, catch Needles in an armlock, and start using the Disc to accelerate rapidly in the opposite direction to Sweet Bot’s jogging.
Now, Needles’ arm was in Donnie’s iron grasp at it was held outstretched, ground ruthlessly against the doorframe of the truck, all the while Donnie continued bending it into an unnatural angle. Considering that Sweet Bot was still jogging forward, as the gap between the two widened, Needles was put in a bad position. If he didn’t do something fast, his arm would at the very least break, and at most might actually end up being torn off at the shoulder. That was unless he allowed himself to be pulled out by the backwards movement, which would result in him hanging onto his enemy’s arm, suspended in the air. Even if he did have his shotgun by this point, it would be faster for the monk to just drop him, and Needles didn’t have the benefit of reflex-enhancing magic to make sure he pulled the trigger first. And that was assuming that Donnie couldn’t outright disarm him in that situation.
Given the cabin’s cramped confines and his foe’s martial prowess, Needles fell prey to his tactic, and couldn’t maintain his position. His grasping fingers closed around his shotgun, but the next moment the monk hauled him bodily from his seat.
Din watched, with some amazement, Donnie’s combat ability. More than that, Din felt as if there was magic in his strikes, though she was unable to place it. It occurred to her that she should ask her teammates what magical elements they used, and test if any of her spells could bolster theirs. But when Donnie managed to force Needles out of the cockpit, Din saw her chance to help. Accelerating, Din rode Gogoat towards the dangling clown. Gogoat jumped making a leaping Horn Leech strike at Needles.
Its horns struck true, tearing into Needles’ exposed flesh before the impact sent both him -and monk with whom he was entangled- tumbling clear of the Sweet Bot. With nobody at the helm to keep it upright, the mech proceeded to trip on an outcropping of rock and topple with a crash; when Needles rose from the dust and spotted what happened, his head blazed viciously. From nowhere he pulled a trio of trip mines, which he scattered around himself before brandishing his shotgun. “Alright, gather round, kiddies. It’s time for you to see how sweet I can be.”
“Not seem sweet.” Poppi cruised in from above, dropping off Tora and handing off her Mech Arms to him before assuming a battle-ready stance behind him. “Poppi think clown not being honest with self.” With a roll of his eyes Tora clanged the metal gauntlets together before heading for Needles himself.
The good news: Donnie’s trick had worked, and Needles was now completely at his mercy, with him able to rise several dozen feet in the air and drop him at a moment’s notice (though the shotgun would’ve had to be dealt with).
The bad news: That lasted for all of five seconds before Din’s Horn Leech, while making a rather satisfying slice into the clown’s flesh, knocked him from the Disc and sent him tumbling to the ground. He let go of Needles in the confusion, who presumably due to Sweet Bot’s relatively short height, had emerged unscathed from the struggle. Donnie tucked and rolled as he hit the ground, mitigating what little damage the impact would have done, while the Disc simply dropped to the ground with no-one to pilot it, hovering off of the miniature cloud on its bottom.
The better news: Thanks to that Horn Leech, the clown was definitively away from his robotic ice-cream truck and wouldn’t be getting inside it anytime soon. And he was bleeding.
However, it wasn’t all fun and games. Apparently, the clown had some kind of magical pocket-dimension or something like the Madman’s Luggage, because he pulled a bunch of what he assumed were more-advanced versions of Goblin Land Mines (by Xuen, why was he able to make so many goblin comparisons today?!) and scattered them on the ground around him...before he brandished his blunderbuss and said...that.
Donnie, under his helmet, stared at him with an incredulously flat expression. “You’re the furthest thing from sweet I’ve ever seen, and I’ve fought the sha.” Quick as a flash, he ran full-tilt over to the nearby Disc, which would only put him in a better position, and hopped on. Then, he fired a Chi Burst downwards towards Needles’ skull as he flew above the grounded clown’s head.
A gravelly guffaw resounded from Needles as Donnie approached. Reaching down with his machete, he slid the tip beneath a landmine before flipping it up into the air with a sudden twist, activating its sensor in the process. The explosive beeped once, then on the next beat blew up right in the monk’s path, negating the predictable Chi Blast and shell-shocking its sender. Donnie’s ill-planned flight path carried him over Needles’ head, who waited with gleeful patience to unleash a deafening shotgun blast straight upward.
He thought that he might pierce the bizarre flying machine, or that the monk’s disc would die a shield, but it proved to be made of sturdy stuff. Yet, that meant that every ounce of force packed by the brutally-modified weapon went to violently throwing Donnie off its surface and to the ground, dazed and confused. Needles moved to finish the fistfighter off, but Tora and Poppi leaped into his way. Before either could say much of anything, the clown had already lobbed a molotov cocktail their way, which shattered against the earth between them in a surge of flame. Poppi dodged sideways, but Tora moved forward. While Needles could scarcely believe that some egg-shaped hamster thing not even half his height was running at him, he wasted no time hacking away at Tora with his machete. Clang after clang rang out as the Nopon blocked his swings, holding out long enough for Poppi to flank Needles with a jet-powered kick to the head. Though staggered for a second, the clown flung his machete at Poppi when she turned to face him, forcing her to block with her arms and take a nasty slice.
Reminding himself to tell Poppi to tag-team properly later, Tora moved in to attack the disarmed clown, only to be taken aback by the roar of a chainsaw. Needles swung it with reckless abandon, its teeth grinding against Tora’s weapons, but in a free second the Nopon slammed the ground with his Mech Arms and rocketed upward. A midair somersault turned into a overhead slam, but even that weighty blow barely seemed to faze the burning killer. Letting go of his chainsaw, Needles grabbed Tora by the hair and kicked him bodily away.
Tora rolled to a stop a moment later, barely avoiding another mine in the process, and Poppi appeared by his side. “This clown no joker!” the Nopon wheezed.
Din was intimidated by the mad clown’s threatening demeanor, and wondered waht those metal plates were that he laid at his feet. But as Donnie went to attack, the clown flipped up one of the plates. The result let Din know that they were bombs of some sort, though seemingly more advanced than anything that was available in Hyrule. But this gave Din an idea as Tora and Poppi kept the monstrous clown at bay. ”Heads up!” Din called out, riding Gogoat into position, placing the mines between herself and Needles. She noticed that he was swinging a mechanical slicing instrument. Gogoat lifted itself up on its hind legs before slamming its fore-hooves down ward, using Rock Slide, and initiating a wave of sand, earth, and stone towards Needles, pushing the mines towards him. Hopefully, this would cause the mines to detonate on the clown, while also jamming up his mechanical cutting machine with sand. Not caring whether the attack connected or not, Din acrobatically leapt off her steed and cart-wheeled over towards Donnie, activating her invigorating dance as she approached him in the hopes of reviving him from his daze and giving him a second wind. It seemed silly, and downright dangerous, to be dancing and healing, completely exposed, but she knew that if Needles came after her, Tora, Poppi, or Gogoat would protect her.
“What!?” Din’s torrent of earth left Needles dumbfounded--just for a moment, but it was long enough. The wave swallowed up the remaining mines before crashing into him, and the next second blew apart in a great plume of sand, stone, and fire. When it subsided into smoke and dust, it left behind a half-buried Needles, burned and bloodied. His head, however, still burned, and when he saw Din dancing for Donnie, he beat his fists against the ground. “I’ve had it with you runts.” In one motion he tore himself from the ground, and from flame a machete appeared in each hand. “Time to die! HRAAAAAGH!”
From his mouth spewed a raging cone of flame, its heatwave distorting the air.
Donnie took a bit to recover from that impact. A lot longer than he used to, in fact, probably because the armor was a lot weaker this time around. Once he stopped seeing stars, he cast Vivify once on himself to heal the remaining mental trauma away before rising and turning to face the threat. He dodged out of the way of the incoming attack, invigorated by Din’s strange dance, as he went in to actually start dealing some serious damage. He was lacking many of his most potent techniques, such as Touch of Fatality, Serenity, or Whirling Dragon Punch, but that was no reason to do nothing. Keeping the Fists sheathed for now, he leapt into action.
Once he had dodged the strike, it was a simple matter to begin fighting Needles toe-to-toe in earnest. He came around from the back, opening with a Tiger Palm to his kidney, then kicked Needles in the spine with a Blackout Kick, and followed that up with a Rising Sun Kick that knocked him up into the air, and finishing up with a relatively-normal axe kick to Needle’s torso while he was still airborne, knocking him down to earth. And with that, he unsheathed his weapons and made to get out of dodge, hopefully before Needles could brutally retaliate, enraged as the killer was. And with Din’s enhancements, that wouldn’t be hard. Of course, he’d be coming back into melee range to let loose with his actual weapons soon enough, but he expected a counterattack first.
Din did not expect Needles could breathe fire. She needed to get out of the way, but as a healer, she couldn’t leave the one she was healing behind to be scorched by the flames. Fortunately, Donnie recovered in time and used some healing magic of his own, so Din rolled out of the way. Meanwhile, Gogoat had been using Bulk Up on itself, pawing its hoof at the ground, readying itself for another attack while Needles was distracted. When Donnie knocked Needles to the ground, Gogoat attacked with another wave of Rock Slide in an attempt to bury the angry clown. Meanwhile, Din ran back to reunite with her pokemon, and looked on, hoping the fight was over, but she was doubtful. Needles seemed strong enough, and crazy enough, to keep going.
Needles’ wounds were piling up. He struggled to get to his feet, a deep noise of pure rage rumbling within him. A molotov appeared in his hand; he shattered it against his mask, bathing himself and the area around him in flame. Gogoat’s Rock Slide bore down on him, and Needles met it with chainsaw in hand. Its screaming teeth flashed in the sunlight as he span, a hurricane of burning steel, and annihilated the stones that threatened to squash his fire. Tora watched the display, wondering why the clown would go to such extreme lengths. Did he feel like he had to utterly crush any challenge that came his way…? The Nopon wasn’t complaining, though. After a workout like that, the overweight psychopath had to be running on fumes. “Poppi, now is chance! Prepare for super double attack!”
The Artificial Blade nodded, grinning. “Understood. All Poppi systems are go.” She grabbed the Mech Arms that Tora through before jetting toward the clearing dust cloud. Needles couldn’t see through the haze, but thanks to his fiery head, she could see him. He moved to lash out with his saw the moment he saw a shape approaching through the dust, but too late. Her spinning punch broke his left elbow, and as Needles reeled from the blow, Poppi delivered an explosive uppercut to his masked jaw that sent him flying upward. From behind his partner, Tora leaped onto her shoulders, grabbed the Mech Arms, and was promptly hurled after the brutalized clown. “Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meh-meeeh!” Tora landed punch after punch as he ascended, his trajectory following Needles’ closely, until after final smack he opened up the Mech Arms to pelt his foe with a swarm of missiles. With a hellish cry the killer disappeared in a terrific blast.
A burning husk hurtled toward the ground, bounced twice, and rolled to a stop. For the briefest of moments, the smoldering mass held its shape, as though death itself couldn’t stop the twisted clown. Then it crumbled to ash, leaving only a spirit behind.
Tora landed a moment later, having used the Mech Arms’ blasts to slow his fall. With the fight concluded, his put his weapons away, though Poppi remained in her new form. Both regarded Needles’ spirit dubiously. “Wanted to try new powers,” Tora said, “But that too dangerous. Not want crazy hell clown in head.”
Nodding sagaciously, Poppi patted Tora’s stomach. “Plus, probably make Masterpon even rounder. If such thing possible.”
Aghast, Tora could only sputter for a moment before crying, “S-so disrespectful! How could Poppi exaggerate Tora’s roundness like that!? M-must have circuit crossed somewhere, meh.”
Level 4 Tora - (26/40) EXP and Level 3 Poppi - (17/30) EXP
The last thing Mr. Grimm expected was for some pint-sized rat to launch its own Death Spawn back at him. The screaming souls, albeit counterfeits conjured up by the freaky thing, tore into him, but only inflicted half as much damage as they should. Still, the sepulchral torrent left him floundering long enough so that by the time he looked up, the burning eyes of the supersized Centurion loomed before him. Mr. Grimm took aim at the left, but before he could pull the trigger the Centurion's shout forced him to cover his ears. A mighty impact caved in his hood and did a number on the engine beneath, and while its extremely hardy construction no doubt left some dents in Agoston's hands, things only got worse from there. Loud blasts and matching jerks signaled the loss of one tire, then another, then one plus its axle. A fiery explosion shook its rear, and projectiles spattered against its chassis. In the span of only a few moments, Brother Grimm would never move again.
Mr. Grimm ground his teeth. How were these chumps tearing into his machine like this? And here he thought that measly lineup of children's go-karts puttering through the wastes would be an easy target, the last couple dozen souls he needed to make Calypso happy. But sometimes that convenience store clerk packed a shotgun under that counter; sometimes one took a gamble and lost. With his proud truck dead in the water, little more than a big metal shell staving off the enemy force's onslaught, things looked bleak, but Mr. Grimm wasn't afraid of looking death in the face.
Standing up, he put a foot on his seat, then climbed through the hole made by his Death Spawn and onto his truck's roof. He'd seen the colorful little shapes wafting off the Centurion, totally at odds with his appearance. “The little rat usin' magic t'make him big,” he whispered, and he fired his revolver twice into the air. Its noise brought all eyes to him, one man with a gun, surrounded and alone. As the soulmasses peeled off to home in on Kamek, Mr. Grimm took a deep breath.
”One hundred souls,” the man had said, fingers tented as he sat behind that penthouse desk of his in that immaculate suit. Shoulder-length black hair complimented a spotless yet eerie outlook; something about him just made your skin crawl. “That'll be my price, rather than victory in Twisted Metal. Collect them, and your wish will be granted. Everything restored to the night of your father's crash, as originally promised, with this new world a distant memory. Go out and gather followers, even former competitors, perhaps. 'The devil you know', as they say.” A sinister smile graced his features, and for a moment, Grimm could swear that his eyes burned red.
BANG, went his revolver. BANG, BANG, BANG! A Death Spawn apiece shrieked toward Agoston, Blazermate, Mario, and Geno. Then the gun issued a click, and Grimm threw it down. It clattered against Brother Grimm's hood and fell to the earth, discarded. With both fists the reaper beat his chest, and in a rock-steady bass thundered, “Bring it!”
Hat Kid’s test run of her new cap produced a bigger result than expected, but with less control than she intended. Instead of sending forth a crawling ripple of energy, an angular well of it roughly her height erupted beneath the right side of the oncoming murdermobile, where she meant to hit it. At least her aim wasn’t off, but it seemed clear that she would need more practice with her new ability. Still, her plan to tilt Sweet Tooth worked, causing the lifted wheels to near miss her head by about a foot as the vehicle coasted over her. It was for naught, however, for instead of crashing, the ice cream truck recovered by transforming into a mecha and going airborne to lay down fire on the others. The child didn’t give herself time she didn’t have to linger and be amazed before hopping back onto her moped and taking off, leaving the battle with Mecha Tooth to those already engaged in it. There was less she could do about that than them anyways, so she broke off to survey the field while the remaining enemies were occupied.
Elsewhere on the battlefield, Banjo and Kazooie continued tagging along with the bigger vehicles of their convoy, keeping them between themselves and Mr. Grimm. Though it came at the cost of a few of their karts (thankfully with no adjoining fatalities), it wouldn’t be long before their teammates’ collective efforts against the colossal monster truck reduced its tire count to one and engine count to less, leaving it sitting inoperable on one corner of its back bumper. The next thing they knew, the driver was standing atop the roof of his wrecked machine firing ghostly masses skyward to home in on their allies until his wheel gun ran empty (however that worked). The beckoning call for a direct challenge that followed suggested, given his current predicament, either the overconfidence of a madman who couldn’t see themselves of the precipice of defeat, or the pride of a warrior who could and just wasn’t ready to count himself out until he officially was. Either way, Kazooie felt the need to oblige him.
“You heard the man. Let’s give him what he asks for,” she urged Banjo, who simply nodded in concurrence with her before pulling around to the lowered back end of Brother Grimm and flooring it. They weren’t exactly going to be hitting record landspeeds in their kart or anything, but perhaps it could pick up enough speed and momentum to catapult Banjo onto the considerably tall chassis after Grimm. Whether it worked or not, Banjo was going to try it anyways. He sped forward (for what that was worth in the Trolley) until getting just close enough to the bumper as he could manage without hitting it and yanking on the e-brake to force his back tires off the ground and launching himself from his seat with it. He all but sailed Grimm, his foot touching the cab once in a propulsive step to keep him moving as he dove after the reaper in an attempted clothesline tackle aimed to knock him from the roof to the dirt. The man and the ursine would likely separate as soon as they hit the ground--maybe even sooner than that--so Banjo would try to roll to recovery to more quickly get back to his feet as well as reducing whatever fall damage he might sustain. Granted this move works for them, they will have robbed Grimm of his high ground, putting him at level with (or, for some, lower than) everyone else. Though, not knowing what he was capable of out of the driver’s seat, the duo weren’t exactly sure just yet what to do next. They just knew they would have to be ready for his next move, whatever that may be.
With enemies all around, Mr. Grimm couldn't predict who'd be attacking first. Out of the assembled heroes, Banjo stepped up to bat first, zooming in from the position of safety he'd occupied with his partner so far to launch a literal attack at the lone reaper. By the time he spotted the bear coming, he could only throw out a wild kick in the hopes that it'd stop Banjo cold, but the pair proved heavier than expected. Their weighty clothesline bodily knocked Grimm from his perch, sending all three over the edge and to the earth below. Banjo could mitigate the landing through a roll, but his foe was no slouch when it came to recovery either. Both parties recovered their footing at about the same time, yet even as the Banjo and Kazooie readied themselves, they could not prepare for exactly what Mr. Grimm had in store.
Instead of extended a fist, Grimm raised a hand, its fingers curled into claws as if clutching something. A few feet stood between the combatants, but even at that range Banjo and Kazooie could feel something amiss. A crawling sensation consumed them--the feeling of something beneath their skin being torn away. After a moment, a rainbow mote ripped from their bodies, flying into Grimm's hand. Neither elation nor viciousness clouded Grimm's painted features; he regarded the spirit without passion. Souls came so easy that he'd never imagined a problem gathering a hundred, but if his mission ended here there wasn't much of a point in inflicting further pain. He thrust his arm forward, launching the spirit back into the duo's bodies. The force sent them tumbling away at high speed, but otherwise there wouldn't be much harm. Mr. Grimm moved backward, putting the giant husk of his machine behind him so that he wouldn't be surrounded. If thing somehow turned around, he could worry about his collection later. Survival came first.
Grimm conjured a collected spirit into his hand. "For ya own good," he murmured, glancing inside. The figure within could be seen for only a split second before he crushed it. Into his hands appeared two curved swords, orange in color with white tips, their handles wrapped in fur. Though untrained in such weaponry, Grimm needed whatever he could get. He gripped them tightly and prepared for whoever came next.
”Stear Rabbids! Stear!” Kamek yelled at the minions who were “driving” the Bowser mobile. A pair scrambled up onto the dashboard, gripped either side of the wheel and together tilted it just enough to stop them plowing straight into a rocky outcropping stabbing out of the wastes.
”These minion’s will be the death of me” Kamek swore as he was jostled to and fro in the car. Once they had things under control he climbed his way back up to the back of the seat, assisted by his flying broomstick, and peeking out to see if they were still being chased. He got eyes on the situation just in time to watch the monster truck be completely disabled by a flurry of firepower crippling its wheels and engine.
The driver, however, was still in one piece, standing on the hood of his ruined vehicle. Had Kamek’s eyes not already been on the man, alone now that his allies had all been dealt with, the crack of gunfire would have brought his focus to the figure regardless. Two shots rang out, soaring skywards. The Koopa raised an eyebrow at this, in the wizards opinion it seemed like a rather suicidal move to draw attention to himself like that. Then the first two shots turned in the air and started heading straight for them and it became perfectly clear what was going on.
”Turn you two! We need to lose those shots!” Kamek shouted at the two steering Rabbids. The chaotic twisting and turning that followed did two things. First, the resulting erratic jostling rendered him entirely incapable of maintaining the spell enlarging the centurion, causing the Roman officer to rapidly shrink back to his original size. The second was that it allowed Kamek to realize that the shots seemed to be tracking him specifically as he was thrown from side to side. As the shots rapidly closed the distance between them and the speeding vehicle Kamek decided to test this hypothesis, mounting his broom and launching himself skywards upon it. As expected, they soulmasses stopped following the car itself and instead soared upwards after him.
”Ah ha. I thought so. Well, then see if you can catch me after this you persistent little menaces!” Kamek cried as he ceased fleeing and instead waved his wand. Just before the projectiles collided with the Wizard Kamek teleported far away from the battlefield in a puff of smoke.
Mr grim wasn’t done with just shooting at the wizard, as afterwards he let off a number of shots that homed towards a number of the other heroes. Bowser however only cared about one. His nemesis, the puppet and thieving centurion could tough out taking the bullet for all he cared, but Blazermate was actually consistently useful. Instead of continuing his charge towards their final foe the king skidded to a halt and braced himself. He raised his fist in opposition to the soulmass, aiming to block it with the mecha mitt’s energy buckler before it could strike his passenger.
”BLAZERMATE! DUCK!” he shouted.
Jr meanwhile, after being deposited on the ground by Poppie, had sat on the ground catching his breath and watching the cool mech fight up until the point where the mech was no longer in play. He was considerably less interested in the subsequent fist fight and instead of continuing to watch had run off to collected his paintbrush from where it had become embedded in the dirt. Once he’d gotten that it looked like everything was more or less over as needles bit the dust and mr Grimm’s ride was reduced to twisted scrap metal. Only mr Grimm himself was still standing, but as much as he’d like revenge Jr could plainly see that the man had little time left in this world with the amount of heroes bearing down on him. Instead of charging off in his direction in a likely fruitless attempt to land a final blow he instead simply kept one eye on the proceedings in case it all went belly up while focusing on other matters. The main problem he was currently facing was the one involving the clown car he had bailed out of to attack the monster truck’s gunner which was now aimlessly drifting through the air above the battle.
”Yeah I kinda didn’t think that though to well huh.” he said. Mimikyu, who was sitting on his shoulder, nodded its head in agreement.
The tiny prince scratched his chin a few times in contemplation before snapping his fingers as an idea formed in his mind.
”Gooma swarm, assemble!” he commanded, summoning a squad of Goomba strikers. The minions quickly formed ranks and knelt before their prince as best as they were able. Jr then walked towards the front most Goomba and then stepped carefully up onto its head, much to the assembly's confusion.
”Assume Tower formation!” jr then commanded, resulting in a chorus of “oh”s, before the squad set of work. Jr’s carrier swiftly hoping atop another Goomba’s shoulders, after which it hopped on another and so on, causing the little prince to gradually ascend skywards. Once constructed the Goomba stack then wobbled its way over to the drifting clown car. Despite their added height they where still not quite tall enough to reach it.
”On three.” jr said ”One. Two. Three. jump!” and jump they did, every Goomba hopping up off the one below as Jr leaped towards the free flying vehicle. His clawed hand gripped the side as the tower collapsed below him, the hapless Goombas de-summoning as they hit the ground. Jr scrambled up the side of the clown car and then dropped into the inside. After stuffing the paintbrush in the storage compartment he reappeared a few moments later with his hands on his hips, feeling rather chuffed about re-capturing his vehicle.
Quite a ways away Kamek reappeared in the library of Peach’s castle in a puff of smoke. There he checked the time on a grandfather clock before settling down to read something for five minutes, leaving the shots chasing him plenty of time to ram into some of the intervening terrain as they tried to reach him, if they did not simply expire after losing track of him.
Linkle looked up to see the monster karts wheels almost completely destroyed, her cover effectively stopping to boom from incapacitating her. Though now she could hear more booms, and screams, as the man on the hood fired off shrieking streams of what Linkle would describe as mega dark magic. A few flew off, but one went right at Agoston as the man on the hood called out his challenge to the world.
Linkle frowned. Even though their opponent was some kind of evil wizard Linkle didn't think seeing Agoston smash a person would be as fun as seeing him smash a kart. Beyond that, it just didn't seem fair for a guy that big to fight a guy that small.
Someone else seemed to agree with that as a kart swung round, the bear from earlier launching himself at the man and tackling him off his high ground. Well now Agoston couldn't just smash the guy with almost hitting the bear. Linkle turned back to the driver. "Bring us around that side." she shouted. "I want a shot at that guy."
The rabbit saluted and wrenched the wheeling, sending the wagon rumbling roughly around as he pulled a sharp u-turn and sped around the front of Grimm. Om the other side Linkle could see the man doing something, pulling something out of the bear and then throwing it back at him. Then she spotted a faint rainbow glow coming from his right hand before he smashed it.
"Gah!" she said as the kart sped toward them. The light coalesced into a pair of orange swords as she turned toward one of the rabbits in the back. She stepped toward him, and almost by instinct it fell on its back and she climbed up onto his outstretched legs. She repeated what the rabbits had done earlier to get her into their kart, but this time jumped with the rabbits push to launched herself from the top of the wagon and high into the air as the kart sped away to somewhere safer.
She could feel the air rushing past her ears as she ascended, over the heads of the bear and, to her surprise, the rapidly shrinking Agoston. Even in the midst of battle this was fun. She would have to thank those guys for teaching her such a neat trick, maybe try it herself on a few of her teammates, but that was for later. Right now she was focused on the enemy. She pulled her bows from her boots, the tips flaring up with green light as she pointed them at him. "Hey!" she called, more offended by him making use of a spirit than anything. She unleashed a rain of arrows on his position as she fell. "You guys can't do that too!"
Blazermate's scan was correct. With a few coordinated attacks from some allies to clear the way, Bowser's fireball hit dead center and blew the truck's fuel tank, turning it into flaming scrap. The man, Mr. Grimm, did go down with the ship, or at least, it sort of look liked he did? He did eventually get out of his truck, firing a gun that had... homing bullets? Seeing this, Blazermate started to take cover just as Bowser told her to get down. "OK Boss!" She said, putting her healing gun on Bowser who she figured would probably be hit pretty hard by whatever he was intercepting for her. She didn't see what Grimm had done to Banjo and Kazooie, but she did see them fly back, only mildly injured.
Beyond the immediate fight, Grimm's Death Spawn continued their tenacious pursuit of their targets. Two sped off into the distance as their sorcerous quarry vanished, destined to destroy themselves against the land before they reached Kamek's bolthole, though only just. Another two zoomed toward the unaware loiterers Geno and Mario, who without an articulated response would find themselves meeting the brutal soulmasses head-on in just a few moments. Bowser, however, chose to act. Aiming to protect his invaluable healer, he threw himself in front of Blazermate and took the Death Spawn meant for her with his Mecha Mitt. Had his son not bee proccupied with the clown car's reacquisition, he could have told Bowser just how strong a Death Spawn was, but the Koopa King found out first-hand. Its power bulled into him, exhausting the Mecha Mitt's shield battery and badly damaging it, before it flipped the battered Bowser on his back. Still, all things considered he wasn't that much worse for wear. The blow more disarmed him than hurt him, and with nobody around to take advantage of his vulnerability, a grateful Blazermate could attend any wounds.
Back at the brawl, Linkle entered the fray using a rabbid friend's team-jump. The sight of a humanoid figure hurtling his way prompted Mr. Grimm to ready one of his new swords for hurling. A keen, balanced blade and a strong arm would hopefully mean at least a crippling slash for the new opponent, leaving him free to deal with the next. When he fixed his attention on Linkle, however, he hesitated. “Little girl...?”
Mr. Grimm had robbed people. Killed people, even. And he'd known that some of the one's he'd killed didn't have it coming. This fight, here and now, was one not just for survival but for his future. Nothing in this new world mattered. When he got his wish, it would all be undone. Yet somehow, despite knowing all that, he couldn't bring himself to throw his blade. He hesitated only for a second, but in that moment, Linkle's arrows fell upon him. “Gaah!”A half-dozen pierced his clothing and sunk into his flesh, the shock of it forcing him to drop his weapons, and the reaper -a human, at the end of the day- collapsed to his knees. Breathing ragged, it took all his will to not fall forward.
A few seconds later, a kart pulled up not far away. Peach put her vehicle into park and disembarked, her countenance serious. She'd seen everything: Grimm's abilities, his hopeless last stand, and his decision to spare the lives of his attackers. While he looked like a bloodthirsty lunatic, and had in fact attacked the heroes, why would he do such self-harmful things? He didn't act sadistically or maniacally like the clown. The princess wondered these things as she remained a careful distance away, lest Grimm have something else up his sleeve.
Linkle was going to finish up by delivering a fiery kick right to the wizards face. She was going to, but she didn't because the man dropped. Fell eighth to his knees after just a single barrage. That wasn't all either. He had pulled back to throw one of those swords of his and then just hadn't. He stopped, even before the arrows hit him. So instead she just landed a shot ways away from him, bows pointed.
He hadn't been beaten. He'd given up.
Was this some kind of trick? Guys like this didn't go down that easy, it just didn't happen. Even if you took everything they had and wiped out all their troops they were supposed to fight to the last. She didn't like it.
"You're giving up?" She asked, confused. "You looked giant Agoston in the face and shouted 'bring it,' but now you're giving up? What's your deal?"
She didn't like it. It just didn't feel right attacking a guy that wasn't fighting back, even if he was a dark wizard. It wasn't heroic.
Level 3 - (2/30) EXP Location: On the Road Word Count: 504
The massive Centurion looked at the Grimm brother. The man raised a gun, and fired! Centurion's eyes widened and he brought his arms up infront of his face and chest to protect himself. A golden orange light formed and hardened around his forearms. The Deathspawn slammed into his arms, knocking them away and shattering the phalanx. A good amount of force made it to his core and the Centurion was knocked onto his butt.
"Oof!" He onomatopoeia'd. The wind was knocked out of him. As he grunted to his feet to assault the man who had done this, he realized has much smaller. Well, much smaller than he just had been. He was much bigger than he used to be, but now he was much smaller than he just was. The wizard's spell had failed. Damn!
Standing to his feet, the Centurion began clambering up the side of the hulking machine. The Grimm asked him to bring it, and thus he would! Eventually, he slowly made it up, wrapping his hand around a raised bar and pulling himself up.
"Come here! I'm going to..." He pushed on his knee and got to his feet. There was no one here! Whirling around he checked the left edge, and then the right. There he was! Linkle was standing near him, saying something and looking confused. Some sort of spell? There was no time to lose!
"Watch out, Linkle!" He shouted.
Before anyone could respond, Agoston leaped from the roof of the vehicle. "HaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA-" Laying on his side in the air, he was to come crashing down upon the kneeling man with an incredible elbow drop!
Groaning, Mr. Grimm picked up his head to look Linkle in the eye. Even now, while his life bled from his body, his gaze held such intensity. "...I ain't given up. Kuh. Kill you...in a minute." He lowered his gaze, clenched his teeth, and struggled to breath, the air rattling in his lungs. Meanwhile, more heroes appeared by the second. Tora and Poppi, aware that Grimm posed no threat anymore, arrived with weapons lowered and guard down. No small amount of consternation faced them, since until now everyone they'd faced had been either a hero to free, an animal or machine, or a threat whose continued existence meant others suffering. Having just one enemy left, surrounded, unable to fight back and more than a little pathetic, presented a problem that neither could readily solve.
To Peach, however, the answer seemed clear. Galeem's influence made people enemies, so for those not too far gone, defeat means friendship. Doing bad things didn't make one a monster. She planned to share with the man a piece of her heart, and give him a chance to redeem himself. The moment after she stepped forward, however, a more normal-sized Agoston leaped down from the monster truck. In a reckless display of theatricality and aplomb, he executed a massive elbow drop, striking Grimm's back from above. A gasp escaped Peach as she heard a sickening crack, and Grimm slumped over. Darkness overtook his vision, but with a herculean effort he forced his eyes open. Already his body was starting to turn to ash, shreds coming off and blowing away in the wasteland wind. "Damn," he choked out, "Sorry...dad." The princess heard his words, and something throbbed within her. Instinctively, she rushed over, knelt by his side, and took his ashen hand in her white glove.
She didn't blame the Centurion or her other allies, since they were just doing their job. A part of her knew that sympathizing with an enemy was foolish, but the sudden and inexplicable notion of something somehow noble being lost filled her with pity. Mr. Grimm briefly met her gaze, recognizing a gentle soul in his final moments. He seemed to relax, accepting the end of his tale. From his chest, a great many spirits flew out, shooting up into the air and vanishing. An uncommonly keen eye could count eighty-seven of them, but only one remained behind, in Peach's hand. At its core a mirror image of his face lurked, grim and alone. Then the reaper lived no more.
Bowser roared with pain as the soul mass plowed into and then through his energy shield, heavily damaging both it and his hand in the process.
”GAHH. AH. MAN I REALLY HATE THIS GUY!” he complained, shaking his hand and sucking in a hissed breath before glancing up to see that Blazermate was OK. ”YOUR ALIVE? GOOD. FIX THIS” he said, presenting her with his damaged hand and gauntlet for the medic/engineer combo to work her magic on.
He resumed advancing, still holding his hand up for repairs, but by the time he arrived at the battle it was all over. Baring a single incident of elastic soul stealing the heroes had brutally dog-piled and overwhelmed their final foe without much trouble. Mr grimm then proceeded to explode like the mean spirited cousin of a loot pinata, sprites spilling from his body but rather than spreading across the ground for collection they immediately headed off to wherever the dead went in this world. Some kind of equally mashed up afterlife perhaps, Bowser considered briefly. He’d been to two of those, the Underwhere and the Overthere. Both were pretty lame. As far as he could tell none of their allies were headed off thereafter this fight, or into the bodies of their allies, which was somewhat surprising considering how dicey the fight had gotten a few times as a result of power of their enemy’s armaments. Armaments that were now theirs for the taking.
Bowser stomped up the side of the dead man’s monster truck, where most of the party had gathered. Jr joined them, Mimikyu still riding on his shoulders, his clown car floating over before deploying its wheels and landing on the back of the monster truck. The boy hopped out of his car and then hopped into the truck’s driver’s seat via the hole in the roof and then finally opened the door to join any post battle conversation.
The royal Koopas looked each other over and then exchanged a nood and grinned in relief at seeing the other was OK. Blazermate had done good work keeping their reckless arses alive.
”NOW THAT RANDOM ENCOUNTER IS OUT OF THE WAY LET’S GET GOING AGAIN. IT’S NEARLY LUNCHTIME.” Bowser said, wanting to get to the halfway point to the village before noon.
”If we stick around we could patch some better cars together from the scrap of the first bunch of rubbish ones papa.” Jr said patting the side of the monster truck ”Nobody’s gonna mess with us on the road again with this monster and that kinda cool kinda lame mecha you guys captured rolling with us.”
”YOU CAN DO THAT IF YOU WANT, BUT I’M GOING TO KEEP MOVING.” Bowser said before realizing his car had run off without him. He groaned before turning and beginning to start yelling and waving at the Rabbids with his uninjured arm. ”GET BACK HERE NOW!” he ordered them. An attempt was made to obey, but the Rabbid’s fighting over the wheel made it a rather unruly looping slalom of a return. The team would have a bit of time before their self appointed leader went roaring off ahead again as a result.
Jr shrugged and then swung himself back up into the back of the monster truck and then retrieved the necro smasher from his clown car ”So are we are going to do this or what?” he asked Blazermate and Tora while tossing the wooden mallet up and down a few times.
Level 4 Tora - (39/40) EXP and Level 3 Poppi - (30/30) EXP Location: Paved Wilderness Word Count: 740
Tora watched with his mouth agape at the flurry of spirits that flew from Grimm's failing body and into the sky. Questions flooded through him: what were they doing there, where were they going, why weren't they being dropped as loot? Then again, the uncollected spirits from 1-1 vanished if left unattended for too long as well, so maybe these hit their expiration date as well. Only one, aside from the orange dual swords, remained: the spirit of the fearsome-looking biker himself, sitting on Peach's hand.
The princess bore a pensive expression. She suspected that this whole journey would be one long chain of wishing she better understood what was going on, but she did know one thing. What she'd seen of Mr. Grimm painted him as a tough man on a mission, willing to use violence to achieve his goals, but not out of insanity or bloodlust. That meant his spirit could be useful as more than just some weapon, unlike the leftovers of that vile killer clown. Fresh in her mind were the words of the Master of Masters, insisting that the heroes would need all the power they could get if they were to succeed. Some of the others could hold their own no problem, but she'd been hesitant to even use her scatterblaster on Grimm's tire, and the thought of hurting someone herself made her sick. In the heat of the battle, she'd clung to the sidelines, dominated by worry and panic. Peach knew she, despite her bravado earlier, she wasn't cut out for this. Not as she was.
Before anyone could tell her it was a bad idea, Peach clutched the spirit in her gloved hand and placed it against her heart. The instant it made contact, a surge of raw power flowed through her, and multicolored light shone across the desert. Her being began to change, and she staggered to her feet, wide-eyed and clutching at her heart. Peach clenched her jaw, struggling to hold in the sensation of exploding, until with a strangled cry she cast the energies off in a final burst of light.
When it faded, a changed woman stood on her place. Her skin tone had darkened to about the halfway point between her original self's and Grimm's, and while her hair retained its overall style, it had reconstituted into thin dreadlocks whose lower halves were blond and upper halves black. Her dress had become more of a pink longcoat, with black jeans on below and a black vest on top. For a moment, she stared at her hand listlessly, its pristine white glove now fingerless. Then, she took a deep breath, and in a huskier voice said, “This...is me. It's weird...I can feel some sort of connection to your spirits. I think I can take them out, and put them back in.” Running a hand along her bicep, she noted the greater definition and nodded. “Now I can fight alongside you. Be a real leader.” She stepped back, and looked around. “Okay. Let's keep moving. Grab whatever you want from the fallen, but be quick about it. And don't fuse with Needles. He'll mess you up.” She returned to her kart, but paused before getting in. For some reason, she really wanted a bike instead. But it didn't really matter.
Tora and Poppi watched her go, the former remarking to his invention, “Meh meh. Looks like Poppi not only one getting upgrade.” Turning his focus to her, the Nopon said, “Good to see that QT mode not lost after all, just disabled. Now that Poppi have second loadout, Tora really need to get new Poppiswap parts, meh.”
The artificial blade nodded, before pointing toward Bowser Jr. “Want to help small turtle again, masterpon? With boatcar totaled, have no way of fast travel.” She glanced at him disapprovingly, as if anticipating his train of thought. “And Poppi not fly Tora whole way.”
He thought about it, then tossed his head dismissively. “Meh-meh. Not think so. Tiny-tiny hammer take ages and ages to fix, and giant machine seem unwieldy anyway. Plus, not so simple to drive as karts.” A wing-finger extended in the direction of the rabbid truck. “Tora and Poppi hop in with them. Cannot be so bad, meh?” With no casualties during the battle, he seemed to embody the general good mood permeating the group. With a pep in his step he waddled toward his destination, and Poppi followed.
Level 3 - (17/30) EXP Location: On the Road Word Count: 265
Agoston was oblivious to any latant goodness or hesitance within Grimm. Instead he rolled to a stop and popped back up to his feet. Victory was theirs! Grimm was dead. A glorious death, if Centurion did say so himself. Cracking his neck, he threw his fist up in the air. "Victory! Well done, everyone." He slammed his fist twice on his metal breastplate, smiling brightly. He watched curiously as Princess Peach took the soul of the dead man and transformed.
"Hmm. Not exactly a royal aesthetic. Nonetheless, in times like these, we must do what it takes." The Centurion had a great deal of respect for the Princess. Few leaders he knew would join the warriors on the field of battle.
"Kamek!" Calling out, the Centurion waved at the turtle wizard as he searched the field for his discarded Drill Kart. "Thank you for that embiggening spell! It was quite the thrill." Eventually he found his lost vehicle, tipped over and covered in dirt.
With a grunt, he flipped it back onto it's wheels. "Our enemies cannot stop us. Get yourself sorted out, everyone. Grab the big one, Bowser. Or somebody. I don't care. Glory awaits!" Clambering into the kart, the weary vehicle struggled back to life and the eager Centurion began accelerating down the road at half-speed. Time was of the essence. If someonebody wanted too, they could pull alongside the Centurion and talk to him. His mind was on that of war and progress towards his ultimate goal; killing Galeem, the false god. The fate of the empire was at stake.
Level 4- (15/40) EXP / Level 3- (9/30) EXP Location: On the Road Wordcount: 535
Michael and Franklin watched as the remaining enemies were dealt with one by one. Franklin stayed back as others engaged Sweet Bot, eventually taking it and its pilot out in an epic battle. Michael mostly stayed back and waited, his wounds slowly healing due to his regeneration. He only had a single Uzi magazine left, and the sniper would be hard to use in this range. Plus, with the destruction of his scooter, there wasn't much he could do.
Soon, only the pilot of the monster truck was left standing. Franklin attempted to find an angle he could shoot at him from, but he was unsuccessful. Michael, due to his injuries, wasn't confident that he could aim his Uzi without hitting an ally, so the two were forced to watch as the rest of the group engaged him. The man apparently could steal souls, as he demonstrated with Banjo and Kazooie- although they soon had their soul returned, with force. The man then took out a soul he had collected, shattering it into a pair of swords. While he was seemingly prepared to go out in a blaze of glory, he did not get it. His attacks missed, and he was eventually crushed by the Centurion without wounding anyone. To their surprise, as he fell countless spirits burst from his chest, heading out into the sky until only his spirit remained.
With the battle over, Michael walked over to his wrecked scooter. Just looking at it, he could tell that it wasn't going to ride again. It had been essentially reduced to a scrap heap, with parts strewn across the ground. "Ah, damn it..." Walking past it, he headed to the monster truck, where Franklin was waiting on his bike. He was looking at the monster truck, but when Michael called out to him, he turned to face him.
"Shit, man, they fucked you up." Franklin noted, looking over Michael's wounds.
"I'll live." Michael gritted his teeth, the pain still there. Looking back up at the monster truck, he saw Peach taking the driver's spirit in. "What the..." The two covered their eyes as the princess was enveloped in bright light, and when they put their hands down, a changed woman emerged. She now looked more like a biker than a princess, and her voice had changed as well. She said that she felt a connection to their spirits, and that she could remove them. It made sense- if she gained the powers of the person she absorbed, she must have gained the ability the driver had that let him take people's spirits out.
"Well. That's different."
"Yeah...well, what now?" Michael turned to face Franklin. "My bike's busted."
"Well..." Franklin drove his bike to the back of the monster truck, where Bowser Jr. was preparing to repair it. Michael followed behind. "We could fix this thing up, and then you could drive it."
"If it doesn't take too long, sure. If not, I'll just ride on the back of your bike."
Franklin nodded, flipping out the kickstand and setting his bike down. He walked over to Bowser Jr. "Well, it don't look too damaged. Let's see if we can get it moving again, at least."
