[center][h3]Dead Zone Hinterlands - Martira, Old Castle Town[/h3] Harry’s [@Eviledd1984] [b]Word Count:[/b] 1052[/center] If nothing else, Band had to admit that this guy had guts, introducing himself with nothing more than a grandiose title in such a bedraggled state. Then again, ‘Big Band’ wasn’t a real name to begin with, so maybe he thought the two would be going by codenames. Such discretion wasn’t necessarily common among cops, but it [i]was[/i] a classic trope for secret agents. Maybe there was more to this Icebreaker than met the eye. [i]Hopefully a lot more,[/i] Band thought, though he did not allow himself a smirk. He didn’t mean to look down on the man -as natural as that was for someone over seven feet tall- but he looked -and smelled- like he’d been through hell, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. “Icebreaker? Not bad. Rolls off the tongue real nice. Guessin’ you ain’t the type to let red tape get in your way, then” Band surmised. “Me, I was always the straight-laced, by-the-books type. Too much for my own good, as a matter of fact. Me an’ the boys down at the NMPD didn’t always see eye to eye, but I bit my tongue and kept quiet, long as I could, ‘til one day, I just couldn’t take it anymore. Set out to blow the whistle on the whole dang unit. Thought I was ready, but things didn’t go quite as planned. Ended up the hospital, stuck inside an iron lung for life.” Band shook his head ruefully, a humorless smile on his face. “These days though, I carry my lungs around with me, and I gotta nice set of pipes, believe you me.” To show what he meant, Band popped open the caps on the side of his body in sequence, a musical note bursting from each. Just as the detective was wrapping up his own introduction, the door to the Friendly Arm opened, and Morris appeared. Judging by his moody expression, he was in a huff, and eager to be done with his fellow lawmen. Not for the first time, Band wondered if the man’s heart was really in the right place. He’d met his fair share of officers who treated their job like a chore, and he knew that Morris must be off duty right now, but however precious free time was in a place like Martira, something about the man rubbed Band the wrong way. “Alright, let’s get this over with,” Morris told the two, crossing his arms. “You wanted to know about Heismay, yeah? It’s not like I know the guy or anythin’, but I saw him, aye. Nearly caught him in the act, too. It was my late shift, on a dark, stormy night, and I was out patrollin’ the east wall, same as usual. I’d been out there for hours, not a damn thing in sight, ‘til just for a second, the clouds part and the moon shines through. Just enough for me to see the bastard climbin’ over the damn wall!” He balled his fists, jaw clenched. “So I went after him, shoutin’ up to high heaven the whole time, but he ran like hell. Disappeared into the woods to the east, headed up the mountain to Curien Mansion. En’t seen him since, but for that night at least, all the young’uns could sleep easy.” Though Band didn’t have a notebook like Harry did, he still kept track of all the new information, filing away each snippet in his mental lockers. He raised an eyebrow at Morris. “What about Curien Mansion? Y’all ever head up there to try huntin’ this Heismay guy down?” Morris gave a frustrated sigh. “We tried, but there just en’t enough of us, and we don’t have the arms for it. Whole place is crawlin’ with undead.” “Ooh, my favorite.” Band gave a wry smile. “Well, maybe we oughta pay the place a visit ourselves, eh partner?” He shot a questioning glance at Harry. For a brief moment, Morris ruminated on the proposal. “If that's the plan, actually, you lot might be in luck. We get these storms ‘round Martira, see. Sandflashes. Monsters can't stand ‘em, they tend to hole up in their dens to wait ‘em out. There happens to be a sandflash today, so if you're lucky you could stroll right into Curien Mansion and scope the place out for yourselves.” Band narrowed his eyes, thinking, then nodded. “Sounds like a plan then. Thanks for your time, Morris.” “Dinnae mention it,” the guardsman replied. “Happy huntin’, you two. And…” He wrinkled his nose at Harry. “For God's sake, take a bath or somethin’, would ye?” He disappeared back into the Friendly Arm in a hurry, leaving Band and Harry to mull over what they'd be told. The big man deployed a spindly mechanical arm to adjust his hat, then scratch his chin. “Hmm…now, I've only been casin’ the joint since last night, but from what I heard, sandflashes don't pacify monsters at all. Word on the street is they actually aggravate ‘em. Sounds like someone doesn’t have his facts straight, hm?” After another moment, his pensive expression dissolved into a jocular smile. “Still, he ain't wrong about one thing. We oughta get you cleaned up, Icebreaker. Here.” He extended an arm with the neck of a little bag pinched between its three finger-pads. Inside was two thousand zenny. “Seein’ how stormy it's been ‘round here, it shouldn’t be too hard to find someone willin’ to sell a barrel o’ rainwater. Betcha they got some handmade soap at the farmer's market, too.” He waved Harry off. “I'll find ya some new clothes in the meantime. See ya in a few?” Band turned to stomp off. As he went, though, a green glow in one of the Friendly Arm’s windows caught his sharp eye. When he looked through, he found the big man from earlier, Stein, on the other side. He was sitting at a table with his daughter, a half-eaten hot dog in his hand. With his sunglasses it was impossible to tell if Stein was watching him, but he seemed close enough to have heard the conversation. Band’s gaze lingered on the window for only a moment, and then the detective moved on. The local tailor might not stock anything in Band’s size, but she ought to have something in Harry’s. [center][h3]The Avenger - Noon Over the Dead Zone[/h3] Lvl 14 Ms Fortune (196/140) Lvl 7 Sandalphon (94/70) Lvl 4 [color=ef6069]Grimm[/color] (47/40) Junior, Rika, & Edward’s [@DracoLunaris] Blazermate, Sectonia, & Roland’s [@Archmage MC] Geralt, Zenkichi & Edelgard’s [@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN] Ace Cadet, Pit, Primrose & Therion’s [@Yankee] Juri’s [@Zoey Boey] Roxas, Ganondorf, & Captain Falcon’s [@Double] [b]Word Count:[/b] 758 / 717[/center] [hider=Boss Rewards][hider=For Ms Fortune]Free Skill obtained: [b]Wounds of Plenty[/b] Launching a follow-up attack charges Maddening Voice by 5%, making Nadia increasingly giddy. When it reaches 100%, Maddening Voice activates, causing a burst of multitudinous laughter that cancels her current action and deals ten hits of Aftertaste damage to her current target, locking it in hitstun. Afterward, her Aftertaste damage is doubled for the rest of the fight [/hider][hider=For Sandalphon]Free Skill obtained: [b]Memosnatcher[/b] When attacking in her Shapeshifted state, Sandalphon’s attacks sacrifice 5% of her health, but have a 50% chance to Freeze the target until her Shapeshift expires. They’re also now ice-blue instead of yellow [/hider][hider=For Grimm]Free Skill obtained: [b]Flame Shard[/b] Increases fire damage by 25% and immunizes Grimm against the negative effects of burning[/hider][/hider] Slowly, the survivors of the Qliphoth assault force departed. After climbing the stairs from Deployment, they could disperse to any number of locations throughout the Avenger. Whether their natures and circumstances dictated that they seek celebration or solace, solitude or togetherness, this flying fortress was tailor-made to accommodate the needs of campaigners. Of course, not everyone knew what to do or where to go right now, and for a few moments, that was the position Sandalphon found herself in. As the others got moving, the listless archangel remained in place long enough to see them off, doing her best to field any questions and provide whatever direction she could. Prior to exfiltration from the dying demon tree, her tendency to stand by had given Zenkichi the chance to catch her an unexpected embrace. Though a little stiff and awkward at first, she’d returned his hug after a moment, her arms gently encircling his back, their cheeks and temples pressed together beneath the soft glow of her halo. He’d been fresh from the fight, his tense body warm to the touch and slick with sweat, but in the wake of the team’s losses they’d found some semblance of comfort in one another’s arms. This was hardly the first time that Sandalphon had lost comrades, but never had such casualties left such a rawness in her heart. No doubt her newfound emotion was to thank, and unfortunately no amount of healing miracles would scrub away that scar, but to her surprise Zenkichi’s affection had soothed the ache somewhat. Maybe she’d hoped that lingering would prompt him to embrace her once more, but the detective -understandably- had other priorities. After all, Akane had probably been worried to death the whole time. Sandalphon watched as Zenkichi hurried off to go see her, trying not to think too much about the request he’d made of her in the hollow. Human emotion really was a two-edged sword. One of the other Seekers who didn’t get far from Deployment was Grimm, though unlike the others, Sandalphon didn’t get the impression that there was anywhere in the Avenger he’d rather be. So far the Troupe Master seemed like an enigma, unconventional in both mentality and morality. Neither Sandalphon’s scanning abilities nor innate spiritual sense could quite get a bead on him, but something about him nevertheless put her off. Still, inexplicable misgivings were no excuse to be unsociable. If she couldn’t figure Grimm out at a glance, she knew she ought to just talk to him normally. “I imagine that experience will cast a long shadow over our campaign,” she said softly. “Has it taken its toll on you as well, Troupe Master?” [color=ef6069]”Why would it?”[/color] Though Grimm’s face was too featureless to parse his emotions, there was curiosity in his scarlet gaze. [color=ef6069]”Death is merely one turn of the cycle in whose gyrations we all play a part. If anything, today’s spectacular dance with death underscored its importance. All those horrors we encountered, borne of that vile ‘Gravemind’...a twisted and feeble parody of life, sustained in dead flesh, ad nauseam. Better that the dying forest burn to ash, and feed the soil of new beginnings.”[/color] He shook his head at Sandalphon. [color=ef6069]“So, I do not dishonor their ends with mourning. When the curtains fall, all will be ashes, so may we all be so fortunate to go out in a blaze of glory, as they did.”[/color] After a moment, the archangel gave a respectful nod. She hadn’t expected to understand where Grimm was coming from. Still, the thought of leaving the departed Seekers unmourned was untenable, especially now, when the unprecedented hole in her heart demanded some sort of fulfillment. As mission control, who called the shots but seldom took the field, Sandalphon tended to be the one left to write eulogies amidst the aftermath. She couldn’t stop thinking about her conversation with Goldlewis on that snowy mountain crag during the minigame roulette in Carnival Town. Now, his sacrifice had given much of what he’d said a deeper meaning. It would be as good a place as any to start. “I see the wisdom in your words. But as an overseer of humanity, it is my duty to mourn the departed, and I will not dishonor them.” Grimm tilted his head, then gave a raspy huffing noise that might have been a laugh. He lifted his arm to reveal the Grimmchild hanging beneath his cloak, whose chin he scratched with a pitch-black claw as he turned to walk away. [hr] When Geralt found him, Tora was tinkering with something new, as always. Having exchanged his goggles for a custom welding mask designed to shield the upper third of his rotund, ovoid frame, the furry little Nopon seemed to be in the process of assembling a large machine frame with the help of Poppi’s beam saber, which he’d apparently jury-rigged into a soldering iron. It was shaped like a hockey puck, but twice as tall as the engineer himself, and almost as broad as Bowser’s shell. Absorbed in his work, he didn’t notice the new arrival until his artificial assistant tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned and popped up his mask, a wide smile spread across Tora’s face. “Friend Ger-Ger!” he greeted the Witcher. “Tora glad you make it back, meh!” While the two of them hadn’t always been on the same team, Geralt had known who to come to for weapons since his first job in Lumbridge, and Tora always appreciated a repeat customer. When presented with the Keeper’s wire mines, the Nopon knew to handle the devices with care. “Ooh,” he murmured gently turning the trap over in his hand. “Nasty piece of work, meh. Spring-loaded, stuffed to burst with barbed wire. If catch sight of this on ground, Tora just do three-sixty and walk away! What Ger-Ger want done with it? Tora cannot help having special shield idea in mind, but should probably steer clear of war crimes after last time, meh…” Poppi clapped her hands together and tilted her head with a disarming smile. “For legal reasons, that is joke.” Conversely, the Nopon took one look at how Geralt summoned the Hateful Flesh and grimaced. “Blech! Put away! Meat-sword stink of magic, which not at all Tora specialty, meh!” He looked over at Poppi with a shrug, who returned the gesture, then turned back to the Witcher. “Uhhh…could weld new handle on, mayhaps? Not much can do beyond that, though.” Once Geralt laid the cleaver down, the mood did not improve much. Geralt relayed the bad news about Goldlewis and Midna, both of whom Tora and Poppi had gotten to know during their trek across the Sandswept Sky. Poppi covered her mouth, a shocked and sorrowful look on her face. “Oh, no…” Tora looked not just miserable, but deflated, like a balloon two days after a birthday party. Even his feather mohawk seemed to droop. “Meh, meh…” he mewled. “That make Tora…very sad. Not want think about right now. So…Tora ignore and think about something else.” He gave a determined nod when Geralt mentioned he’d be busy. “Yes, yes. Tora already had at work on new ideas. For instance, everypon on Avenger always busy doing chores. But if Tora makes machines to do chores, all friends have more time! So right now, am working on all-purpose cleaning robot. Found schematic on inter-knot that Tora get inspiration from…” “Steal,” Poppi whispered to Geralt. Her Masterpon continued without missing a beat. “...But Tora see plenty of improvement room, so there lots of work to do, meh. Sadly, though…” The inventor scratched his head, eyes narrowed. “Am short on good materials, and meanypon Shirogane say Tora not allowed to take any more parts from Avenger engine room. So, was hoping that friends like Ger-Ger help with funding for special projects, meh. Would be much much appreciated!” He hopped up and down, flapping his wings pleadingly. Poppi just slapped a palm to her face and shook her head. [hr] Before she went anywhere else within the Avenger, Nadia knew one place she wanted to be–and luckily, it wasn’t far away. She made a beeline for Ace and squeezed him tight in a fierce hug, as if strength alone was enough to guarantee he’d never leave her. After a second or two, though, she relaxed a little, and laid her head on his chest, her furry ears tickling his neck. By now she knew about Palico Rescue, but that knowledge hadn’t made his sudden disappearance any easier to stomach, and after the actual loss of several friends Nadia had needed to see her love interest safe and sound. They were both a mess, of course, but they were alive. Held tight in Ace’s strong arms, it was hard to feel bad about not sacrificing herself, or about much of anything, really. For one, golden moment, there was nothing in their world but each other. Of course, reality caught up with Nadia with a vengeance, and after only a few seconds the tender silence was broken by the almost leonine rumbling of the feral’s stomach. A fit of giggles burst from Nadia as she laughed it off, pulling away from Ace just far enough to pull him after her as she made for the stairs. The pair followed in the footsteps of Head Chef Bracket as she made her way through the Avenger toward the mess hall, where the Mimiga’s fellow cooks had been putting the finishing touches on today’s meal in her absence. After a quick, five-minute detour to the showers to freshen up, they returned on the heels of Edelgard, Ganondorf, Zenkichi, Akane, and a few others. Inside the airship’s cafeteria,Nadia found a pleasant surprise awaiting her: while the giant crab legs fetched by the Koopas were boiling bit by bit for dinner, hemborgers were on the menu. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jwsc0gc.png[/img][/center] These patties, festooned with melted cheddar cheese and drenched in rich brown gravy, came surrounded by fresh sliced vegetables and a couple hard-boiled eggs for good measure, promising a flavorful and protein-rich meal. Though dubiously named, one bite was enough to convince anyone that these things were the real deal. There were other miscellaneous foods on offer for lunch, primarily leftovers from previous meals that ought not go to waste, but the minute the sumptuous aroma of the beefy feast hit her nostrils, Nadia could think of nothing else. “Hemborger,” she murmured absently, her mouth ajar in anticipation as she lined up to receive her portion. As it turned out, running and fighting for one’s life for hours at a time really built up one’s appetite. Once she reached a table with her precious cargo, Nadia wolfed down her hemborger so fast that barely tasted it. After realizing her mistake, the feral could do little but seek to rectify her foolishness with a second portion, slowly and meticulously savored. She washed it down with some freshly-brewed, piping-hot espresso. “It might be after noon, but this is still my ‘mourning’ coffee,” she told the Cadet, a wry smile on her lips. Finishing the hemborgers, of course, left Nadia with a double portion of vegetables to gnaw through. She approached this task with significantly less gusto, which gave plenty of time to chat with Ace -and anyone else who happened to be nearby- between crunches. The mess hall was pretty lively by now, after all. In addition to the other Seekers, Lakota and Dawn were here, along with their three bunny-eared little girls Aurora, Ciel, and Soleil. As their dad attempted to cajole them into cleaning their plates, their mom went for Lakota’s, making off with his hemborger. When he discovered the theft, Dawn pretended to have no idea what had happened. She managed to keep up the facade until Lakota poked her in the belly, which earned him a giggle and a slapped hand. As she munched her cucumber slices, Nadia couldn’t help but smile at the two any more than she could stop herself glancing at Ace afterward. Dawn, Lakota, and their kids were living proof that an impossible love across worlds could succeed, even in a world as cruel as this one. What would happen to those little girls -to all the Lost Numbers- if the Seekers’ campaign succeeded…? Nadia let out a heavy sigh, took a swig of her coffee, and smiled. She had enough on her plate today without having to worry about tomorrow.