Just as Tora hoped, his new friend quickly proved himself a veteran of the battlefield and accomplished teamworker. After the Nopon's showy Swooshing Slash, Yoshitsune launched forward with a blistering series of slices, raining bloody cuts across the Gorlek's torso and arms. He finished with a deft double-impale, sinking his dual blades into the monster's guts, but for all his confidence the beast did not dissolve. With a guttural noise, more like an angry moan than a snarl, it lifted its torn and gashed arms to take hold of the swordsman. Tora, having flipped away after making his move, could not help. This time, he would not escape the deadly point of his pickaxe.
At the same time, Primrose unleashed her magic on the blown-away Roaders. A wellspring of dark power burst up from beneath them, the roiling blackness dealing continuous damage. Their forerunner found its reckless charge interrupted by Fox as his Illusion brought him right down on top of it. With one wheel and not much in the way of smarts the machine couldn't resist the pilot's whirling throw. At the moment Primrose's spell died down Fox released the furiously rumbling Roader, pitching it toward its shadow-blasted compatriots. It struck with a crash, sending bits of metal and spare parts flying as the two wrecks flipped over and over across the sand. His maneuver far from over, however, Fox let loose a charged laser bolt. It struck the Gorlek's head while he struggled to take hold of Yoshitsune, which turned out to be the last straw as the beast sagged down, released the swordsman, and began to turn to ash. Still not satisfied Fox landed with all his weight in a kick on the flung Roader's head, and the crushing blow dispatched it cleanly.
That left just one Lamia, the one seared but not too fazed by Sectonia's lightning. The Phantom Thieves rallied around it while the others dealt with the rest. “It's weak to ice!” Mona called as he leaped at the monster, only for her to dodge backward and allow the thief to
plop into the draining sand. “Gah!”
As Mona struggled, annoyed, to remove himself from the sand trap, Joker kept the Lamia away with a few shots from his pistol. The snakewoman hissed from the pain, then slunk sideways onto the road to try and flank the group. “She's mine. But I don't have any Personas with ice.”
“Just leave this to me then. Carmen!” Panther summoned her
Persona in a gout of blue flame, and pointed her at the lone monster. Joker grabbed Mona from the sand and hustled out of the way. “Lights out!” No sooner did she issue the command than her Persona cast a spell, putting the Lamia to sleep. Grinning, Panther readied her whip. “Easy as pie!” She lashed out, striking the monster across the face, and a shattering note rang out as the Lamia fell to the ground.
Mona wriggled out of Joker's grasp and pulled out his slingshot, announcing, “This is a holdup!”
As one the Phantom Thieves closed in, firearms drawn, and surrounded the Lamia. She shrank against the asphalt. Tora rushed forward, his sword at the ready, but Joker held a hand out on front of him. Confused, the Nopon nevertheless obliged, hanging back to let the teenagers do their thing. He could feel something odd in the air emanating from Joker in particular, and didn't dare question it. The Lamia looked between them. “Wait a minute,” she hissed, suddenly seeming to find a voice. “You don't really have to kill me, do you?”
Joker replied in a loud, clear voice, “We can negotiate. Lend me your power.”
The Lamia seemed to relax slightly. “So, that's your move...? Then I guess I'll talk first. I'll decide if I'll help you after.” She propped herself up, trying to hide her nervousness by putting on a brave face. “I have to say, you've been a pretty inconsiderate host. You should show more hospitality. Couldn't you at least make me a cup of tea? That'd show me your sincerity.”
Joker snickered. “I'm not hospitable.”
Furrowing her brow, the snakewoman gave a frustrated scowl. “C'mon, couldn't you tell I was fooling around? Kids these days can't read between the lines.” She sat back and gave a resigned shrug. “Well, I guess I'm done for. Won't you listen to my dying request? Show me at least a little hospitality.” Crossing her arms, she gave him a curious look. “If we went together, what would you do for me at the end of my life?”
After a brief moment trying to gauge the monster's personality, Joker replied, “I'll quietly be at your side.”
A second of quiet passed before a slight smile spread across the snakewoman's face. “I get you. Having some company's not as sad as dying alone, after all. I do like that line of thinking. Say...” Her features clouded over. “I think I remember now. I'm not a monster of this place, after all! I'm from humanity's sea of souls.” From nowhere a blue glow surrounded her, and she floated into the air. “In other words, I'm part of you, and so is my power. I am Lamia, your flame of vengeance.” So saying, she disappeared into a mote of magic that zoomed into Joker's mask, and just like that she was gone.
Panther gave him a thumbs-up. “Nice work, Joker! Now we've got even more firepower!”
Grinning, he dusted off his hands, as if he'd just tied his shoes rather than subsume a living being. “Well now that's over with, we're good to go.”
A brief period of peace passed before all of a sudden Poppi zoomed over the edge of the cliff and flew toward the group. She slowed down to land as she came near, allowing Scout and a very frazzled Skull to jump down. Not far behind her hovered Necronomicon, who deposited Braum and Blue Poison, but it was Poppi, eyeing the ruffled-up heroes present, who spoke first. “...What Poppi miss? Poppi leave for five seconds and friends get into trouble?”
“Oh no, no, no!” Tora assured her, waddling over and clapping a wing on her shoulder. “Friends just goof around a little, meh.”
Poppi crossed her arms, frowning. The lack of any enemies meant nothing considering they turned to ash on death, after all. “Why Masterpon all sweaty, then?”
“O-oh, that...?” Tora held up his wings placatingly. “It just very hot out, meh! Not everyone have internal cooling systems, Poppi!” he admonished, then turned to the others winking furiously. “Right?” His eyes landed on Yoshitsune, and he hurried to change the subject. “Meh, meh! We did meet swordypon who help in f...meeeh, in f-finding where to go! What new friend name?”
Skull headed over to join the other Thieves. “What's up?” In reply Joker summoned his new Persona, which prompted his friend to give him a high five. “Man, that's awesome! How many is that, five?”
“Four,” Mona corrected. “Arsene, Leena, Ghul, and now Lamia. Shame you can't do any fusing, huh Joker?”
The Thieves' leader shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. For all Tora's attempts to save face, he hadn't been fibbing about the heat. Now, they couldn't rely on Vah Naboris for shelter. Beyond the ruined, spike-ridden streets directly ahead, he could see some actual buildings. Hopefully that meant shade. He turned back to take stock of the group. “We're down a few members. Midna, and two from that battleground. Are they still down there?”
Necronomicon gave him an answer. “They went down to hunt some of the dragons nearby. I can find them and bring them up when ready, so long as Ms. Midna can float herself.” Two of her tentacles wrung themselves together, like the hands of a shy girl who didn't know what to do with them. “Um. Were you going to go ahead?”
Joker found himself glancing at Fox, wondering if the leader of Yellow Team would try to assert his authority over his friends, who technically did not rank among the Alcamoth Mercenaries. Necronomicon didn't need to say aloud who she felt she belonged more with. “Yeah.”
“Sectonia only made one trip so far, so maybe she could go down for the others, and you stay with us?” Panther suggested. Either way, Joker didn't plan to stick around, and he turned to proceed through the Crown of Sand. The Thieves followed behind him, including Necronomicon, who helpfully boosted them get over the bigger sand traps when necessary. Tora waddled up to Fox. “So what do? Wait for last friends? Follow Thieves?”
As Sakura endeavored to fill on some of the Cruiser's vast gaps of common knowledge, Seaplane Tender patiently mulled over the words of the Ranger. Every step forward into this bizarre 'ordinary world' triggered a depth charge of revelation, rather close to overwhelming, but the Abyssal managed to keep her bewilderment in check. So, not only did she apparently bear the lexicon and even mannerisms of a totally unfamiliar culture, but she shared them with a number of her former enemies. Maybe...she was some sort of outcast? For the life of her she could not recall any sort of memories before warfare dominated her existence, but like it or not, developed Abyssals like her had a lot in common with the shipgirls of the Navy.
Two sides of the same coin. With that taken into account, her wild hypothesis did not seem so far-fetched.
She found herself staring at Sakura, who really couldn't sit still even as she worked her brain trying to think of ways to help. Possessing such an animated spirit, the street fighter naturally took the spotlight, and Seaplane Tender found her attempts to make sense of her past drifting away. Sakura, however, managed to seize upon some useful information, and quickly presented the Abyssal with a whole list of names. “Emilie, Marie...” she murmured as she lay front-down across the cargo bay seats, trying out each name as she heard it. Every detail of the place called France utterly fascinated her, and she found herself wishing she could travel there too. “City of Lights...” She pictured a place like Limsa, with an even bigger tower in the middle, probably on the land, full of elegance and fine food and awash with glowing lamps even more beautiful than a sunset on the sea. Seaplane Tender rested her head in her hands, and sighed a deep sigh. Just what had she been missing?
After a few more ideas Sakura gave her companions some time to think, which the Water Princess used to keep sounding out the names. In relatively short order the Ri-class Cruiser decided on her own name, going with the simple but cute 'Rika', and encouraged by that choice Seaplane Tender began to home in on something herself. “Navire...Bella Navire?” Try as she might, she couldn't think of anything better than that. It just seemed to flow so naturally. 'Navire' commanded a sort of dignity that the word 'boat' didn't, and when the Abyssal pictured Sakura or Ri-Class waving and calling her name, she realized there was no alternative. “I like that, I think. Bella Navire!” She smiled, looking over at the girl peering from the Atomos' bay. “Do you like it?”
At the moment, however, Brineybeard saw someone arrived in the Pirate's Cove. It was
Shropshire, the smartly-dressed recon ship with a long ponytail of fresh-grass-green, and she looked very interested in the Atomos. After coming up from the water Shropshire skipped across the docks toward the vehicle. “Hello, hello!” she sang, waving at the vehicle, but able to see nobody but the former pirate captain standing on Shippy's deck. "We -the Navy, I mean- saw that cool ship flying over the sea, and assumed it was that totally-not-a-pirate guy, but he never flew anywhere close to the fighting. So Ms. Heinrich asked me to follow it,” she explained apologetically. “Do you know whose it is?"
Brineybeard glanced at the Atomos, aware that is housed a few of his new allies but even more sure that he shouldn't keep anything from a Navy member. "Yarr, they be the travelers I brought here this morning, who be wantin' to brave the Bottomless Sea."
Shropshire's eyebrows went up. "Oh! Did they buy it? Downes said she saw those guys pulling around a boatload of cash." She headed for the Atomos, noting its open bay doors, and waved. "Heeey! Can I come aboard?"
With the catgirl on her way out, Laslow wasted no time in rounding on Peach, who regarded him with a far less gregarious expression. “Ah but where are my manners, failing to introduce myself to another lovely lady? I'm truly a dolt, hopelessly prone to tunnel vision, but I hope you can forgive me?”
Peach edged around him, not keen for the flirtatious stranger to kiss her hand as he'd done Nadia's. Her eyes flitted on the newly-arrived Geralt, then Bowser. “Uh, we've really gotta be going...”
“Whoa, 'ey!” Ahead, the drunkard protested as Bowser rebuffed his cordiality, shoving away not only himself but his precious jug. A splash of the red liquor splattered across the wood, releasing bubbles that floated lazily away. Before he could further protest, however, the Koopa King stomped away, following in Cuphead's footsteps. For a moment Bacchus seemed dumbfounded, ignoring Blazermate, but his face quickly began to twist in anger. Breathing in through her teeth with a grimace, Nadia slipped by him and after her comrade, with Peach close behind. As the Feral jogged onward she soon became aware of heavy, arrhythmic footfalls behind her, and a quick full rotation of her head confirmed that Bowser's new friend wouldn't be put off so easily. “I'm not...hic! Done with you yet!” he rumbled, staggering after the heroes in a manner that would have seemed harmlessly comedic if not for his iron grip on the handle of his wine jug. A weapon, Nadia thought, would be well-suited to bashing. She wondered if she ought to try and stop him, but was it really her business?
What goes around, comes around, after all. If Bowser wanted fewer grievances he could push people around less.
With Cuphead's new knowledge, it wasn't long before the four heroes and their sloshed hanger-on reached the Bismarck restaurant. Well before they could step inside, however, they could see the glow of magic surrounding the place in an arrangement suggesting walls, and sure enough, after they maneuvered through the crowd of Limsa citizens and perplexed guards they found the sorcerous barrier totally impervious. Nadia groaned. “Ugh, it's just like those demon walls in the Dead Zone that would block off doors until all the mooks were dead.” Squinting, she tried to peer through to see what was going on inside. A few panicked diners, evidently trapped behind what must be a brand-new restaurant feature, stood on the other side blocking her view as they banged on the wall. Still, Nadia could catch a few snippets of slung magic and flashing steal. Her allies, it would seem, were throwing down. “Aw, they couldn't wait five minutes be-fur trashin' the place.” A fiery explosion went off inside, causing her to flatten her ears reflexively. “Sheesh!”
“Hey, you!” Bacchus pushed through the already-disturbed crowd after the newly-arrived heroes. “You're bein' a real piece of work. Lighten up, huh?” He blinked as he grew close enough to get a glimpse of what was going on inside the restaurant. Then an excited expression dawned on his face. “There's a fight?! Leave it to me!” With a sudden energy he lurched forward, only to slam face-first into the barrier. He span once, astonished, then shook his head and angrily shouted, “Cheap shot! 'Ere, 'ave a drink!” He smashed his wine jug on the ground, sending its contents flying over a wide area. The brew splashed hero and citizen alike, and a familiar sensation hit Nadia like a freight train.
She reeled, tumbling back against the barrier, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. “The...the hell?!” Somehow just the touch of the enchanted wine left her drunk as a skunk, and she wasn't the only one. Bowser, Cuphead, Peach, Geralt, and even Blazermate were affected, along with all the nearby cityfolk and guards, who staggered around in a drunken stupor. Nadia tried to back up and get herself together, but she tripped instantly over a doubled-over guardsman. “Aah!” She hit the ground in a heap, and her head rolled away. Peach had slid into a sitting position against a wall, her eyes as wide as saucers as if she'd never been so much as tipsy in all her life, and plain didn't know what to make of the feeling.
Bacchus bellowed with laughter. “Ohoho! Making rather merry, aren't we?”
So contagious was his spirit that Nadia, quite useless at the moment, couldn't stop herself giggling helplessly. Her mood took a quick turn as someone's foot struck her square in the back of her head, sending it bouncing close to the edge. “Ow! W-watch it, I'm..!” A blast of blood from her neck prevented her head pitching over into the open air, but if she was disoriented before, she was hopeless now. “Here, body body!” she called weakly, watching the rest of her vainly feeling around on the floor. Unbeknownst to her, Bacchus' Intoxication wouldn't last much longer, but among all those present she wasn't even close to being able to confront him about it right now.
Pushing open the door to Grillby's revealed an establishment with an interior as orange as it was inhabited. In terms of layout the place featured a bar with six stools, a pair of booths on the right wall, and three tables across the floor that could boast no consistency in size or shape. All in all, one would be remiss to call the place sizable, and even now it offered few empty seats. A number of unfamiliar faces currently patronized the place, yet despite the quantity of customers, an easygoing serenity lay over all. Four
noseless men in different-colored rabbit outfits lounged at the big table, talking among themselves in low, confidential tones. A
dog lounged at the feet of the table by the window, where a
young man with keen eyes and fluffy blond hair sat, laboring on his sketchbook. Both booths appeared to be occupied by another colorful quartet, this one of
faceless wizards, their tables littered with empty mugs. At the bar, a
well-dressed flame tended to the needs of a
suave man, a
portly knight, and a
warrioress in armor. When the Skullgirl entered, however, she brought a chill wind with her, and those who looked her way disliked the way her crimson eyes burned.
Not long at all after the Skullgirl appeared on Grillby's threshold, another young woman pushed her way inside. This one, a redhead who featured no trace of her predecessor's subtly off-putting strangeness, drew no wary glances. Still, the presence of two out-of-town visitors, let alone in the span of minutes, made for a special occasion. If the patrons of his establishment didn't go out of the way to welcome the archeress or the spearmaiden, its proprietor made sure that he would. “Welcome to Grillby's,” he sputtered as he cleaned out a glass. “What can I get you?”