Deep Blue Seaside: Mafia Town
Level 14 Ms Fortune (61/140)
@DracoLunaris @Archmage MC @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN @Yankee @Zoey Boey @Double @DisturbedSpec
Word Count: 2128
In the span of just a few moments, Mafia Town was in chaos. Almost a hundred brutish adrenaline junkies of all shapes and sizes, fueled by energy drinks and Mooscles shakes, had rained down across the island city. Eager to be the last man standing, the menagerie of maniacs quickly filled beaches, wharves, rooftops, and streets alike with their violent, theatrical antics. Mafia stooges and hapless citizens alike found themselves irish whipped, sumo slapped, and spear tackled. As she squared off against her newest opponent, though, Nadia tried to tune the rest of the mayhem out. Even if her journey had made her a better team player, after all, this cat burglar always did her best fighting one-on-one. And if that high-visibility hero she dumped into the drink was any indicator, these wanton wrestlers would be easy pickings.
Or so she thought.
Nadia charged forward on all fours, pumping blood in her legs, then released the pent-up pressure to boost into the air. “Careful!” she called down to Bass, popping her head off to use Cat Spike. “I’m always one step a-head!” When she smacked it down with her palm, her head buzzed toward him like a calico circle saw. Bass lifted a strong arm to smack it down, but with her foe’s focus on the projectile, Nadia then flung herself after it in a blood-propelled airdash. The collision between head and hand forced the wrestler to recoil, so even as her head plopped to the ground, Nadia’s body descended on him to start a combo.
“Somer better than others!” From a quick cross slash she somersaulted Into a El Gato axe kick that left Bass doubled over long enough that she could jet her head over and hit him low to keep the combo going. “How’s this for uppsies-ing?” From there she turned her back to stretch her leg upward for a Limber Up launcher, smacked her head with a light kick to get it into position, then wheeled around to nail her foe with a Flying Screen Door reverse overhead kick. Thanks to her setup, her head could then restand him with a quick chomp, and that command grab gave her body more than enough time for a finisher. “Omnomnomnom! Think you got a chance?” she taunted with her mouthful as she used Fluffy Soft to transform her right arm. It swelled in size as stripy fur covered it, turning it into the fearsome limb of a white tiger. “Fur-get it!”
Bass tumbled backward into the wall of Seaside Spaghetti, groaning. Nadia shot him a grin as her arm shifted back, then charged forward, eager to keep up the pressure. Her adrenaline got the better of her, though, and she attacked early, mistiming her meaty. With an angry grunt Bass stepped off-axis, then planted his fist in Nadia’s belly with a terrific lunge punch, his full weight behind it. “GUH!” Spittle flew from the feral’s mouth as she shot backward, eyes and mouth wide open. She hit the ground and skidded atop her rigging pack, her legs only limply flopping down once she came to a stop at the dock’s edge. “Oof. Guess I’m not the only one with a punchline,” she groaned. Her respite came to an end when she spotted Bass barreling toward her, so like an idiot she hopped up and tried to challenge him with a claw swipe. Instead she ate a shoulder barge that made her see stars. Bass stomped the ground for effect, flexing, then walloped her with a massive lariat straight to the chin that sent her hurtling into the water without anywhere near enough time for her rigging to activate.
A moment after splashing down, she burst from the water with a gasp to see Bass slapping his biceps. "I'm just too...damn...STROOOONG!"
Nadia grinned evilly, then dissolved into a bolt of lightning that burst from the steaming surf and blitzed straight through her opponent. When she rematerialized behind him after her Charge, she spun on a dime and unleashed Battery in the form of a double electric claw strike, amped up into a pair of critical hits. Then she gave him a turn in the water with a dropkick, though unlike the cartoon wrestler it seemed it could swim “So you’ve got some skills,” she admitted.”I’ve got a whole lotta nasty sur-purr-rises though, so by the time you figure me out…”
The feral concentrated, reaching deep for her latent power. She willed her the spirit Rhodeia of Loch into momentary existence as a Striker, then stood back as the Oceanid created two Hydro Mimics of Nadia herself–a pair of watery clones with claws almost as sharp as the original. By the time Bass clambered out of the water, he found himself outnumbered three to one. “...The battle’s already over.” Nadia smirked, then pointed the mimics at Bass. “Well? Water you waiting for?”
In a flash the mimics took over the battle, giving Nadia a chance to set back, regenerate, and reassess. When she first joined the fight, her friends -and Juri- hadn’t been far behind her. Juri did a good deed for a day when she came to a woman’s rescue, even if she did immediately spoil the moment. Geralt’s sword skills and secret identities made relatively short work of a troublesome trio. Unfortunately, Junior and Rika did their fighting inside Bancho Sushi, and that brawl completely trashed the place. “Nooo, nooo, nooo…I’m so screwed,” Nadia moaned, her head in her hands. Even the locals were getting in on the action; not too far away, a gruff-looking man with a metal horn and a form-fitting suit had nonlethally disposed of not one but two rogue wrestlers. Of course, there were plenty more where they came from. With abundant enemies and less room to maneuver, the fighting got fiercer in the upper levels where Juri was headed. Just what was that psycho planning…?
Nadia’s attention returned to Bass just as he powerbombed her one of her copycats into oblivion. “Wow, this musclehead isn’t just built…he’s just built different!” Noticing that the Hydro Mimics’ attacks left the man Wet, she blasted through him with another Charge to trigger a painful Conducted reaction, then whipped around with a tail slap to knock him down. From there, all the feral needed to do was leap into the air, then fall on him with her full weight behind her modified Mantread boots to leave the man sprawled out and senseless. “Don’t come back for a sequel,” she advised him as the other Hydro Mimic dissolved. “Unless you want to get re-booted!”
She exhaled, then looked around. Down at the docks, Geralt was embarking with Junior and Rika for the cargo ship that brought this crazed crew to Mafia Town’s shores. To her surprise she spotted Dave joining them, outfitted with his wetsuit, a harpoon gun, and a Net Gun. She considered going with them, especially since she didn’t want to see Dave come to harm, but the people of this Mafia Town needed her help, and she couldn’t help but be curious about what Juri might be up to, besides.
Nadia turned and sprinted away from the dock, heading upward through the narrow, sloped Mafia Town streets with Chucho right behind her. There were hooligans everywhere. Some lay defeated on the cobbles, while others went after townsfolk or even one another. As soon as possible she scaled a building and took to the rooftops, leaping and climbing with catlike agility. Even then, though, she couldn’t escape the chaos forever. She ran into two portly female wrestlers, one dressed like a cow in a purple gi and the other an undead pirate, who’d just finished taking out an enormous invader in a dog costume. “Ladies! What’s good?” Nadia struck the pirate before she realized, starting an Unchain combo with a Step that brought her in close enough for a Hammer Blow overhead punch as the Unchain Circle. For the Unchain Finisher she launched a powerful upward lariat of her own, and Chucho followed up with Thus Spoke Pickles to blast the woman out of the air with psychic starlight. “‘Mind’ your head!” Nadia crowed.
The karate cow lashed out with Diamond Crusher, a powerful blow below the belt that would’ve left Nadia in a world of hurt if it connected. Instead, the feral cashed in a stock of Dramatic Tension to unveil her Blue Monday Counter, catching her attacker with her knee. Stunned, the brute couldn’t do much but yell as Nadia grabbed her by the black belt and flipped overhead, her arms made into tentacles by the extension of her muscle fibers. After slamming the wrestler into the roof, a wildly smiling Nadia whirled her arm around, then fell with a splendid elbow drop into her foe’s belly. It drove the fight right out of her, not to mention the wind from her lungs, and she couldn’t only struggle feebly as Nadia rolled her off the roof.
As she dusted her hands, the feral heard another cannon, and followed the sound toward the upper levels where she spotted a familiar pink-and-black blur flying up toward Mafia HQ. “Hmm…”
When Juri reached the upper plate, she found a grim sight at the doorstep of Mafia HQ. The ashes and spirits of a dozen Mafia grunts, three wrestlers, and a couple of Chinese Gangsters lay scattered around a smashed-in front door. As she entered, passed through the empty casino, and headed toward the theater, the sounds of clanging metal became louder and louder, and when she finally burst into the room Juri could catch a glimpse of the fight herself. A heavy-set man with a white suit, nasty scowl, and an expensive-looking guandao was fighting the Mafia Boss with a gang of ten weapon-toting goons at his back, but the squat, mustached mafioso was holding his own with a pair of cleavers that he wielded against Mabuchi’s polearm.
After a fierce exchange of thrusts, slices, and parries, Mabuchi sent the boss flying back toward his throne with a huge upward slash against the boss’s block, but the short man righted himself midair. He began to spin, electricity coursing through his blades. “Super charge!” When he hit the ground, he unleashed a huge spark that surged along the ground and into Mabuchi’s own block.
The ambitious man grunted as the blast pushed him back. “Get him!” he growled at his underlings, and two of them diligently pushed forward with swords. When the mafia boss stopped his swing, however, he hurled his cleavers like sawblades. They ground into the two men, spraying blood, then flew right back into the boss’s hands. As Mabuchi’s men slumped to the ground, he brandished his weapons, disguising his heavy breathing with a raucous laugh.
“Hahaha! You’re no match for me!” At that moment the boss spotted Juri, and he beckoned her over. “Spider! Just in time! Serve up these small fries for me, and you’ll be richly rewarded!”
As Mabuchi whirled around, realizing that his foes now had him surrounded, footsteps resounded from the hall behind Juri. The next moment Nadia appeared, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she surveyed the inside of the Mafia headquarters for the first time. “Wow, this is where you’ve been hangin’ out? A crummy casino with smelly kitchens?” The feral raised her eyebrow at Juri. “Well. Can’t say it doesn’t suit you!”
“Don’t get cocky!” Mabuchi suddenly thundered. He whirled his Qinglong Yanyuedao overhead, then slammed the hilt against the ground. A nebulous crimson aura seemed to emanate from him. “Send all the fodder you want. It makes no difference to the reaper!”
Even without any context, Nadia could tell that things were about to get serious. Under any other circumstances she would’ve happily stepped up to the plate for a tag-team match, but at Juri she just scrunched up her nose. “Help you? I dunno…” After another moment of considering all the players in the room, a devious grin spread across Nadia’s face.
She didn’t care about either the mafia boss or his would-be usurper, but stopping a payday for Juri would be pretty funny.
Meanwhile, down on the ocean's surface above the fabled Blue Hole, the Koopas and their guests had closed in on the rogue cargo ship. Its lights rendered it easily visible against the dark ocean in the dead of night, but they didn’t illuminate any guards or defenses as far as the incoming heroes could see. Over all its floodlights blazed the ominous purple glow of the Flame Clock, plainly advertised with the bravado of a pirate flag rather than hidden away for safety. Due to the ship’s sheer size, however, boarding it from the water’s surface was a tricky proposition. Its smooth, reinforced hull featured no rungs stacked up along its sides for easy climbing. The entry hatches were both high up and sealed tight. Getting aboard presented quite the conundrum.
With the miraculous advent of a new dawn galvanizing them into action, the bulk of Palutena’s forces left the conquered Ivory Citadel behind and soared over to reinforce their brothers and sisters. Their well-timed arrival reunited the Army of Light against the airborne armada of Laguna over the pitch-stained ports of Citronpool Harbor, and together the angels rallied against the enemy force. Though a number of false angels had taken wing, they could generally be outfought and unceremoniously dispatched, so the army’s main concern took the form of the Kinship funerary boats. In rhythmic motion their oars plied the currents of the air rather than the water, missiles flew from beneath the gleaming masks on their prows, and their decks teemed with corrupted defenders. Being Laguna creatures themselves rather than mere vessels, they could fly and attack on their own, but the angels had already discovered a more fortuitous quirk of these ships’ anatomy: as living creatures, they could be afflicted. Featherswords could hinder their defense or evasion with Shield Smite or Spiral Sword, and every arrow skill possessed by a Featherbow could slow a Kinship down. And when Uriel joined the fray alongside Edelgard and Ortho, the quick-witted commander called out a simple strategy for her soldiers to put into practice.
“Men, attack from below!” Normally, battlefield angels used their wings to give themselves a height advantage over terrestrial foes, staying out of reach while making it easier to shoot down at their targets. Rising higher than these Kinships just gave the corrupted archers and Affinity musicians a shot at them, however, and the homing missiles launched from their cabins posed a serious threat. “Sever the oars, pierce their shells, and scuttle them!”
With that, the scales really did tip in the angels’ favor. By attacking from beneath the Kinships, the angels could pluck their oars like centipede legs, then peel away the rowboats’ gilded, colorful exoskeletons to reveal the corrupted muscle, bones, and arteries beneath. Even if these loathsome monsters’ hearts or brains lay somewhere within the golden boxes on their sterns, there was more than one way to skin a cat, and a bird without wings couldn’t fly. Palutena’s forces pounded the Kinships’ marble faces and ruptured the organs responsible for birthing new cherubic missiles. Feathershields could focus on warding off missiles, while Featherstaves kept everyone going. Empowered by Edward’s magic, their weapons could cut through rotten flesh like hot knives through butter. Fighting the Kinships like this took longer than going for a weak spot, but was safer for Palutena’s forces, and one by one the vessels began to fall. A couple times the distant ballistae got lucky and scored a hit with a massive bolt into a Kinship’s ribs or cabin, and that helped expedite the process. Once the slow but nigh-unstoppable Angelic Champions really got into the mix, they proved capable of even greater damage than the ballistae, their enormous blades of light taking chunks out of Kinships at a time.
This strategy didn’t demand the entirety of Palutena’s force, so a number of the angels set their sights on a different goal: Citronpool Harbor itself. Unlike the Ivory Citadel with its layers of thick stone walls, this second sky island laid its corruption right out in the open, so the army of light could bombard it from a safe distance. Storm Wardens pushed their cannons to the limit, raining down purifying plasma from above, while lieutenants like Celia unveiled a secret weapon: the holy hand grenades. Once hurled down, the praises of a disembodied choir heralded divine explosions that could level multiple infested buildings at once. Though this skyport had once been beautiful, there was no saving it now–only ablution could redeem this tainted soil.
Reasonably assured that their allies could handle the rest of the enemies, the Seekers could focus on the biggest problem. Worship, part heavy ordinance platform and part enormous battering ram, was a force to be reckoned with. Its energy bullets, cherubic missiles, and golden bulk made it very dangerous to attract its attention, while its rocket-fueled aerial mobility made hitting it almost impossible in flight. At one point it used its laser to snipe a ballistae that dared take a shot at it, and a moment later it decided to simply smash through a doomed Kinship just to obliterate the squad of angels poised to finish it off. Nevertheless, Midna managed to catch it and sink her claws in. She managed to deal respectable damage, but even the Twilight Princess and her cohorts couldn’t stick to the Worship for long, and when they fell back others took up the slack.
One squad of angels kept perilously close to the Worship throughout the skirmish. Fodoquia led them fearlessly in a mission to harry the inglorious thing until he saw an opportunity. “Team! Heavensmite!” Nodding, the others fell back alongside him just far enough that they could surround the lynchpin of their strategy, the stern Feathersword Ochlys, and start casting buffs. “Row Resistance,” Fodoquia pronounced, shrouding his team in a magic-resistant barrier.
The Featherbow Raenys loosed a Saint’s Shot toward Worship, then surrounded Ochlys with an aura of whirling air. “Tailwind!”
Despite his disgrace, the reverend knight Sanatio intended to atone through his duties. “Honed healing,” the curly-haired Featherstaff muttered. “Holy Cradle.”
By now, Ochlys was humming with energy. She raised her slender blade, studying the searing enchantment that burned across its blade thanks to Edward’s magic. “I suppose that’s five,” she remarked in a nonchalant English accent. “And finally…Accelerate!”
The warrior took flight, her blades flapping in the breeze as she pierced the sky, fast enough to leave afterimages. As she dove toward Worship, she lifted her blade for a Honed Slash, triggering Discharge consuming every buff to multiply her own attack power. “Wield me, o Father!” With her truestrike readied, she could neither miss nor be outrun, and in a flash her sword delivered her to her enemy. “HAH!”
Her incredible slash dealt out six times the damage it should have, cutting a massive furrow through Worship’s body. The next instant Ochlys was gone, having overshot her foe thanks to her speed, but the damage had been done. The flagship of Laguna’s fleet was grievously injured, and it wasn’t long before Pit led a heroic charge straight into Worship’s laser, then eliminated the blasphemous aircraft once and for all. The last Kinship fell soon after.
By now, the Army of Light wasn’t far at all from the last of the infected sky islands, a place where no angel had ever set foot and lived, the source and stronghold of the corruption. It resembled a massive rocky crag covered in buried churches, its stony surfaces slick with corruption, with an enormous train track that spiraled around and through the island itself, and along that track ran the train. It was a colossal, hideous, and intricate affair, more like a procession of gothic cathedrals on wheels than an actual locomotive. Corruption dripped down its sides and acrid fumes billowed from its smokestacks as the train made its grim rounds. Here, the corrupted monsters were at their most impure, being little more than oily masses with random arrays of limbs and multiple white laguna masks, though some also appeared to have subsumed machine parts from the blighted locomotive. They crawled all over it, silhouetted against its sickly yellow light as it eked them out from its twisted innards. There could be no doubt that the throbbing heart of the corruption could be found on board.
With their commanders in attendance, the angels regrouped on the light-scoured far side of Citronpool Harbor, recuperating as much as possible for their final assault. Angels healed one another, chomped on Roasted Nuts, and wolfed down Hot Cross Buns to refuel their stamina. As they ate, their brightest star’s voice filled them with resolve. “Steel yourselves, men!” Uriel exclaimed. “We’ve made it this far, and we’re not backing down now. Let us cleanse the sky of this filth once and for all! Let us fly forth and bring forth the Father’s wrath to pierce the rotten heart!”
Forbidden Kingdom: Meridi-at-Han
Level 8 Goldlewis (89/80) Level 1 Grimm (9/10)
@Yankee @Archmage MC @Drifting Pollen
Word Count: 1041
Just as Goldlewis anticipated, the men and women of Meridi-at-han weren’t about to let such a golden opportunity pass them by. With their target waylaid by the veteran’s unyielding harpoon and his back turned toward them, the guards and adventurers threw caution to the wind and let loose everything they had in a bid to bring the burning wolf down. Through the ensuing bombardment arced a triple-shot of heavy black fire, its abyssal weight crashing into Ralph’s back. That benthic blast was what got it through to Ralph that, try as he might, he couldn’t break free from the big man’s grasp in this wounded state. Howling, the enormous wolf took a moment to gather his strength, then let go of the building with one hand and half-turned to leap toward his captor. In that critical moment, though, a Sun Guard captain unleashed his Firespitter. Its arrow-covered payload punched a primitive rocket into Ralph’s hide, then exploded, stalling the monster long enough for Primrose to deliver her amped-up Moonlight Waltz and eliminate the beast for good.
With a final whine, Ralph fell from several stories up, forcing Goldlewis to hop backward to avoid a blow from a flailing limb. “Dag nabbit!” As the citizens cheered, a number of hunters jostled through the crowd, carving knives at the ready, to try and get a piece or two of the dissolving carcass before only ashes remained. Goldlewis left them to it, using the crank on his Yowie harpoon gun to reel the huge hook back in. After checking that everyone was accounted for, he gave a sigh of relief. He’d been banged up a bit, and he hadn’t expected to have to use his full strength tonight, but considering the circumstances -and the unfortunate end met by some of the cityfolk- he really couldn’t complain. If anything, he figured he could use the exercise, though he knew that thinking like that was making light of the situation. The real surprise, he estimated, was Primrose. He hadn’t fought alongside her yet, so despite her toned muscles the veteran assumed that the dancer would take a support role. In the brawl with Ralph, though, she’d strutted her stuff in the offense department as well. His first instinct, borne of his time in the army, was to give her a congratulatory clap on the shoulder, but Goldlewis stopped himself and limited his commendation to an appreciative nod. “Nice goin’ there, missie. You’re one hell of a credit to the team.”
Arms crossed, Goldlewis looked around to take stock of the situation. A ways off, George had already been defeated, and Lizzie was on her last legs. As quickly and violently as it began, the rampage seemed to be coming to a close. But why were those monsters here to begin with? “Surely this ain’t a natural occurrence,” he mused aloud. “And how in sam hill did those beasts get all the way up here without anyone seein’ em? Been a spell since I went down to the jungle, but I reckon them giants stood head and shoulders above the trees down there.” This should’ve been a preventable disaster. With an appropriate amount of guards for such a large population in a dangerous region like this, he would’ve expected Meridi-at-han to be much better prepared–and yet the monsters had appeared right out of the blue, taking the whole city by surprise.
After only a minute or so the carvers had cleaned the corpse out, and as they dispersed Goldlewis moseyed over. He didn’t really expect to find any clues among the giant’s remains, so he was surprised when he spotted something dimly reflective amidst the ashes of the wolf’s leg. With a grunt he crouched down, picked it up, and turned it over in his hands. It was a crumpled-up soda can, badly damaged, but when he stretched it out he could make out -with some difficulty- the words ‘SCUM SODA’ on a green background. Brows furrowed, he glanced around. Had the can been stuck between the beast’s toes? “Mighty strange,” he muttered. Of course, he’d seen a lot stranger things than a soda can in a fantastical setting like Meridi-at-han, and the whole World of Light was pretty anachronistic anyway, but something about this particular oddity rubbed him the wrong way. “Scum Soda,” he repeated, shaking the can. Empty. He pocketed it, then stood up.
His investigation concluded just in time, since Primrose had noticed something amiss. She directed his attention toward some sort of commotion in the torchlit shadows back in the direction of the Grimm Troupe’s former big top. While the smoldering dark looked like nothing more than the burned-out wreckage of the tent at first glance, something about the way those scarlet lights flitted forced Goldlewis to agree that something was off. Still not sure what he was looking at, he hefted his coffin and followed her at a brisk pace. By now the streets were relatively clear, with the citizens sheltered and the guards on high alert, so an eerie aura suffused the hastily-abandoned marketplace. Only when Goldlewis got within a hundred feet was Goldlewis surprised to see a ring-shaped huddle of shadowy, ghostly bugs, so excitedly intent on something in their midst that they didn’t even notice the big man jogging toward them. They didn’t part to make way for him either, so Goldlewis had to muscle his way through the manic Grimmkin acolytes. Finally, he laid eyes on the cause of the commotion: a frantic fight between the Troupe Master and some suspicious-looking sorceress.
Goldlewis paused, rubbing his head as he watched the magical mayhem. He still couldn’t be sure whether or not Grimm was guilty of some wrongdoing. He couldn’t fathom why they’d be fighting or who was in the right, but these two were Gleaming, which meant that this could only end one way. Better to break it up if he could. Looking around, he spotted not just Primrose, but Roland and Zenkichi among the bugs. They definitely had the numbers to pull the pyromaniacs apart. For now the unsubtle soldier held his ground, waiting for one of the others to make a move he could capitalize on. When someone needed a hand, he’d be there.
