Dawnrider

World of Light

Level: 6 (8 -> 12 -> 30 -> 41 -> 44/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon
Word Count: 1275 (+3 EXP)

The Seekers, after a long day that felt like three barely making it to the city, and the rest spent fighting through it to seemingly circuitous ends, hadn’t made it far out of the door before making evening plans to wind down and enjoy themselves. While understanding the need, Fox didn’t share his companions’ collective sentiment. He didn’t feel like he could relax just yet.

Hearing Big Band declare unfinished business of his own reminded Fox that there was more left he could do in the day as well. He wasn’t exactly in a celebratory mood anyhow. Not with lingering doubts and concerns coming out of the court that had yet to be abated. There was, of course, one who could better identify with him than any other present, having what one could assume to be the most stake in and familiarity with the matter.

“How are you feeling about all this?” At the risk of asking an obvious question, he caught Robin just outside the palace directly following the hearing to make a calm, hushed pry for his opinion.

The tactician had clearly been considering the matter. “I’m conflicted,” he replied, the simple word hiding a lot of baggage. “I don’t trust Validar, and neither should you. As far as I’m concerned, the audience with him was a farce. The pretense of honest discussion...thanks to that spy of his, he knew our group was withholding information, but we couldn’t say how much he knew, nor risk anything with the Resistance members’ lives on the line.”

Shaking his head, Robin crossed his arms. “Still, I wasn’t expecting him to concede at all, let alone so easily. Considering his ambitions, him letting me go free is miraculous. Perhaps he considers you all a threat and simply wanted to get rid of you as fast as possible.” His head adopted a slight tilt. “With Reptile, he gave us the choice to either confront him on his own turf, with all the cards in his hand, or keep our complaints to ourselves. A cunning maneuver really. No matter which route we took, he minimized the chance of conflict with us, and should you return and stir up trouble in the future he’ll no doubt be well-prepared.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” Fox said, spacing out his speech with a wary glance at his surroundings before continuing. “We’re obviously a threat if we want to be, and he knows neither of us fully trusts the other.” The latter word of Fox’s reply clarifying for Robin that his skepticism was shared, minus the personal element or the intensity that went with it. “But if he wants to get rid of us, it’ll be for good, right?” Fox part asked whilst speculating. “Because if you know us,” which he surely did, “then you know we have more than he can prepare for, and he won’t want to risk his future on that. Not if he’s really that paranoid.”

Fox’s mind wandered for a moment between the issue at large against the grand scheme, and the difference in unshared perspectives on them. “I’m sure he’s convinced himself by now that this is all some kind of elaborate plan to depose him.” His gaze then wandered with his thoughts to the sky above the horizon. “He just doesn’t know we have bigger problems...”

The tactician seemed to agree, although he still looked wary that someone might be listening in. For all the Seekers knew, letting them go might have been a ploy to bait them into letting slip more information right into an unseen Reptile’s waiting ears. “Ideally, he’s playing nice because he doesn’t want to tangle with your alliance. As long as all he cares about is Al Mamoon, there shouldn’t be any issue in the campaign against Galeem.” Robin allowed his inner conflict to show on his face. “I must confess myself torn. Knowing what I do I would want to stay here, both to help pick up the pieces and to keep an eye on Validar. But the real fight demands all the strength that can be spared for it.” He took a deep breath. “I would offer my aid, if you’d have me. And Tharja would no doubt wish to follow in my footsteps.”

Fox nodded softly, thoughtfully, as he considered Robin’s perspective and what to say next, keeping in mind the mentioned possibility of an invisible spy at their backs. “We’re not abandoning this place,” he quietly assured Robin, “...or the people here.” As much as he cared about doing what he thought and felt was right, truth told, Fox was a little short on the same personal investment in the cause that was the liberation of Al Mamoon, specifically, other than by empathetic proxy and a general sense of saving the whole World. He couldn’t simply reduce the town’s people and their plights to just another smaller objective on their way to completing the bigger mission, nor would he dismiss them as inconsequential by comparison. But Robin was right; he could stand even less to leave their true oppressor alone any longer than they had to on their way to it. Dropping a hand onto Robin’s shoulder, he continued. “We have the night to figure it out. If there’s anything you want to take care of tomorrow before we leave, run it by me later, and we’ll see what we can do.”

The tactician shrugged. “For now, I would be content with merely putting some distance between Validar and myself. I’m not the sort to take drastic action without time to plan.” He gave one final look at the palace before nodding farewell to Fox. “See you on the morrow.”

Fox wordlessly reciprocated Robin’s evening farewells and left him to be on his way. He respected Robin’s evident patience with the matter--a quality he didn’t quite share with him--and couldn’t blame him for feeling as he did. He was then hit with a twinge of pity when a simple regrettable, subjective truth crossed his mind: Not everyone deified their father. Not all were so fortunate as to have that--or lose it. Insofar as he was able to, however, he could understand, and would try his best to.

Fox allowed these thoughts to ease their way from his mind as he turned his attention to more pressing concerns. “Poppi...” Fox called remotely, intending more to speak with Tora, but resigned to communicate vicariously through her. “Make sure Tora doesn’t get too comfortable yet. I’ll need you both at the station later tonight. There’s something I want to make sure of.” Upon receiving confirmation, he would sign off and lay low until nightfall, whereupon he would make his way to the train station to get ahead of them. He remembered also that he told Sly to meet back up there around the same as well, and thus aimed to follow through on that. Perhaps they could learn from one another, depending on the difference in how they spent their days. Of course, any valuable exchanges called for ensuring somehow that no third parties would be attending them there in secret to do their own learning.

Naturally, that much hinged on their devious, thievious new recruit showing up, his hypothetical absence to be otherwise taken as its own sign. It wouldn’t be assumed, in any case, that he simply forgot either. If there were still any lingering elements of subterfuge or sabotage going against them, Fox expected--and intended--to rule them out tonight; to be clear of any doubts before the day came. Doubtlessly, he figured, someone would be waiting there for them, so he would go accordingly prepared...

World of Light

Level: 6 (15 -> 16 -> 8/60) (-8)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Temple of Khamoon
Word Count: 657 (+1 EXP)

Relieved (though barely showing it), Fox stood as Robin came to, the truth doubtlessly returning to him through recollective visions of the recent past. He left to safe assumption that the tactician knew, in part, what was really going on, and made nothing of his requests for forgiveness for prior actions taken against them, for which the Seekers--those of them who could make such calls--were ready to pardon him for any and all of it. They couldn’t, however, say the same for the local authorities, surely driven by their own as of yet unspoken agenda/s. A glance back to the adjourning lieutenants served as a poignant reminder of what they had gotten themselves caught up in, why they had elected to, and that they weren’t yet done with it.

“We’ll catch you up on everything later,” Fox calmly, quietly assured as he drew out another Friend Heart to fulfill Robin’s heartfelt request. “Right now, things are about to get a little more complicated,” he added, tossing up the Heart and rattling off three Blaster shots in tight enough succession to sound like one (as a force of habit, mostly), splitting it between the remaining fallen and injured in need to drift down onto them. “We’ll need you to bear with us a little longer.” He didn’t know how to tell them that they were under arrest, or how he planned on getting them out of custody before day’s end.

As the Grimleal acolytes began rolling in to collect the defeated Resistance members, Fox half expected them to put up some kind of fight rather than going quietly, mentally preparing himself accordingly, but saw in them instead a somewhat surprising absence of wherewithal left to so much as resist detainment. Even refreshed and physically able to hazard such a bout, many of them were left without so much as a clue as to how they ended up where they did or why, and with no common cause (farcical or not) remaining between them to unite under, most had little will left to do much else besides submit themselves to the law apparent for crimes they vaguely remember committing. Yellow Team (and company) would have to come up with some kind of plan on which to act soon if they remained intent on not leaving them to a likely unjust fate when they could serve a better cause--a REAL one. Fox hoped only that his fellow Smash Brother could trust him in the meantime.

The hard real part was soon to come, but for now, their end of the action had concluded. Fox took the idle moment to check on the other half of their team…

“Necronomicon, report!”

…

“Necronomicon… Come in! What’s your status?”

---

Upon seeing sunlight once more, little time was wasted on handing out suggested directives and directions for each half of the escort party, for they had little time to spare, if radio silence indicated anything. Fox was well ahead of Primrose’s suggestion, and had simply to say, “They’re not responding. We need to hurry.” As much as he felt compelled would have liked to rush in a reinforcement effort himself, he couldn’t help echoing Band and Goldlewis’ skepticism, and felt responsible for seeing to Robin and his company’s safety (and potentially emancipation), given how much he had invested himself in it already. It was a harder decision for him than he made it look, but he trusted the team to be able to take care of each other, independent of him, certainly. Nodding affirmation to Big Band proposal, he turned to Primrose, Panther and Skull, and asked them, sincerely, “Can you take it from here?” Less was this a provisional appointment of leadership responsibility, as if there was any honest or official chain of command to acknowledge or respect, than a show of faith by Fox that he trusted them to look out for one another and come back as a full team.

World of Light

Level: 6 (15 -> 16 -> 19 -> 15/60) (-4)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Temple of Khamoon
Word Count: 1554 (+3 EXP)

The moment for assessment and anticipation spent, both combatants took off in stride to advance on one another, closing the distance between them at a somewhat uneven pace. Fox kicked things off by taking a burst of potshots on the run to open the boy’s guard or coax out some kind of defensive response to get a cursory initial read for it. He was neither surprised nor disappointed to see him bat the laser volley away with little visible effort, or duck the rapid quintuple flying roundhouse he threw out at him once he made striking distance. He found immense difficulty in blocking and evading the chain of retaliatory ‘sword’ swipes the young key wielder answered back at him with, ending with an uppercut that connected with the bottom of his boot, but carried them both upward still. While airborne, Fox was put in a hard disadvantage state, robbed of the leverage to properly defend himself against an opponent who he swiftly found out could move and attack just as fluidly off his feet as he could on them.

Every stroke of Sora’s relentless onslaught connected unopposed to send Fox back to the floor where a well of dark magic waited to erupt beneath him, skipping backward just as the trap went off to narrowly manage a near miss. Sora chased him with an advancing horizontal ‘slash’ to meet Fox’s staggered guard, followed by Robin leaping over him to come down with an overhead vertical cleave. His Levin Sword struck Fox’s glove plates to send him flying back, doing little to mitigate the damage sustained as it broke his guard wide open. He bounced off his back to his feet, kicking up parallel trails of dust as he skid to a halt, and attempted to reorient himself while he had the space to again.

Difficult as it already was, it was only natural that Robin and co. would continue to insist on an unfair fight in their favor; to “tip the scales,” so he liked to say. Luckily, Panther and Skull showed up on each side to come to his aid, seemingly shifting said scales back to balance. Looking between them with an appreciative nod, he issued to them, “Open up their leader! If we can take him, we win.” He didn’t have time or feel the need to explain why, but he trusted the Thieves to understand his intent and go with him on it. Unfortunately for them, they wouldn’t get the chance to see if he was right.

The proceeding exchange was short-lived, as Fox’s backup harbored elemental weaknesses he wasn’t aware of, leaving him back to where he started, but now slightly worse for having a sum of his vitality magically sapped from him. He struggled as he had learned to in an attempt to free himself from the spell’s grasp, aided further by reserve reinforcement from the rest of Yellow Team. Skull and Panther took the opportunity to initiate their patented team finishing move to unleash fury on the opposing trio, which Fox joined in on with them, his sharp blue streaks of phantasmal speed rendered a shadowy, silhouetted black. Sora, however, then called upon radiant power as he saw fit to deny their reckless play at ending the fight, turning the tables back on them once more.

Fox couldn’t be sure if falling into the dense brass mass of Big Band was honestly any better than hitting the ground, but with most of the fight gone from him, he was at his mercy. Both become a singular prime target for the prodigal key slinger, who came rushing forth faster than either of them could do anything about, with the shining end of his weapon pointed squarely at their hearts. They were saved not by the trepidatious Tora, but a newcoming titan of a man of obvious strength and stature to rival Band to intercept the young man at the last second with a devastating, magnitudinal coffin blow to bring the conflict to a meteoric conclusion… so it would seem. Silence began to fall over the chambers. Fox urged in slackened movements that Band kindly unhand him, silently, stubbornly assuring the detective that he was good for it as he deposited him to the floor to take a knee where he fell.

Fox looked up weakly from where he knelt to behold the prelude to Robin's desperate final gambit as a prismatic aura of power--familiar only to the two of them (or so he thought)--swelled ominously, darkening the entire underchamber's atmosphere by sheer contrast. He could almost ‘hear’ it come into being. A ‘Final Smash’, they dubbed it; a special, powerful, seldom seen or utilized technique every fighter possessed, capable of decisively turning the tide of any battle in a single move. It was previously, however, reserved for exhibitional settings and purposes; never in real world combat situations. The question was, since when could one manifest such power on their own, on command no less, and how would it differ in both form and application? Fox was sure of only this: that they would pay to find out, and that they couldn’t afford to.

If he thought they could, he would have told his team to run, but that would entail knowing what from, and if they could outrun it. To make matters worse, in imploring Robin in dramatic fashion to abstain and begging to ‘take his place’ as it were (lending to it an even greater and more dire sense of foreboding), his partner, Tharja, readily amassed the very same power within herself, in utter defiance of any presuppositions of exclusivity to ‘Smashers’ and their ilk. Eyes wide and pupils constricted in alarm, Fox desperately lifted his sidearm, deliberating now on whether he had the time or energy left to Friend Heart them, or if he should simply take them out to save the rest of them, at the risk of failing his self-assigned mission, and began to feel his aim shakily waver from fatigue. He narrowed his eyes in focus to correct to the best of his ability as his Blaster’s lens (read: muzzle) welled aglow with charge. Still, his focus lay strictly ahead on two targets, unsure if he could hit both of them in his current state, lacking the presence of mind to check inward and feel for himself whether or not he was channelling the curative, de-Gleaming energy to save them, trigger finger ready to release either way…

Then, as luck and reason would have it, Robin conceded to his partner’s plea, both calling off their last resorts, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion, and thus forfeiting the fight… for now. Fox similarly allowed the charge built up in his Blaster to die down, dropped to three points, heaving a sigh of relief, and began catching his breath one respiration at a time in a moment of rest. The fight was over; they had won, but their mission remained far from complete.

Not even a minute passed in the aftermath of battle before more blood had been vindictively drawn. Though bearing witness, Fox needn’t have to know what had transpired. The self-satisfied excuses of the Grimleal blade sorcerer--a self-called justiciar--for hypocritical pleasure killing sufficed to paint an already hideous picture. He then had the gall to try to sell it to them as an offered favor, or a privilege he was so graciously sharing with them, as if he was in any place to call the shots. No amount of prompt forgiveness and intervention by Kan-Ra attempting to absolve his evidently bloodthirsty compatriot as a stand-in for reason that had just left the scene in a blade stroke could salvage his now indelibly worsened reputation with the Seekers.

Fox tightened his eyelids shut in cold anger, masked with quiet determination as he turned his naturally sharp gaze forward, hauling himself tiredly to his feet and marching over to Robin where he lay, calling what strength he had left to stop himself limping or dragging his feet with every step, applying effort to appear as if he wasn’t. Having been a major reason for his coming down there to begin with, Fox had already made up his mind about what he planned to do with the fallen among the Resistance that still breathed, and didn’t need, or care, to listen to the Validar’s impunitive officers offer their opinions as if they mattered at all to him at this point. He neither waited nor listened to what either of them had to say, for he had already started making his way while they talked “options” like there were any others worth considering. He wasn’t waiting for permission.

Fox proceeded intently, drawing out a Heart in his off hand, then knelt before the downed tactician and gingerly pat his shoulder to administer the apparent miracle cure for Galeem’s influence. Watching as it took effect, he waited for him to wake to see what he would say or do first before making any other moves, aware of the potential risk it posed to him being in lackluster condition to fight a freshly rejuvenated opponent, but moreso confident in him awaking to his proper senses to instead recognize him as an ally… or at the very least remember what came before, that lead them to where they were now.

World of Light

Level: 6 (15 -> 16/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Temple of Khamoon
Word Count: 386 (+1 EXP)

In the midst of a favorable exchange between the two veteran Smashers, just as the familiar feeling of impending victory against a worn-down opponent started to creep up, the decisive moment was postponed with the sudden appearance and intervention by another. Robin disengaged in a staggered backstep to create just enough space between himself and Fox for the new entrant, and Fox’s advancing inside butterfly kick stopped overhead against the metal shaft of an unorthodox weapon held casually aloft in defense. Fox’s eyes adjusted to the subject within the fading light that now stood between him and their much needed victory against the one opponent there that truly mattered at the moment, sizing up the tactician’s summoned backup in the scant seconds he was afforded before Galeem’s influence kicked in to override them.

His new opponent: apparently a teenage boy in casual attire with little in the way of immediately remarkable features besides the hairstyle, disproportionately, almost comically overlarge footwear, and of course, his weapon--an oversized key wielded as if like a sword. When the boy broke the contact deadlock they had maintained for that brief instance to force Fox away and back to neutral, he got the unmistakable impression right away that he wasn’t to be underestimated. Fox sailed backwards with a flip from the breakaway, touching back down feet first with readied, open hands snappily brought up to re-assume fighting stance.

Fox internally cursed his luck as he continued attempting to size the boy up, wondering just how many more surprise reinforcements Robin’s force may have in reserve. Keeping in mind just how critical to their success freeing Robin was in particular, and how easily anything could go wrong with that at this point, he considered that perhaps the last thing he could really afford was a distraction such as he was faced with. He knew better, however, than to think he would have it that easy, especially if Robin and his partner decided to team up on him rather than leave them to duel it out. At any rate, the newcomer was just someone else in their way, who deserved the same chance as any of them to be brought back to their senses, and Fox remained every bit steadfastly intent on doing just that… even if he had to do it alone.

World of Light

Level: 6 (6 -> 9 -> 14 -> 15/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Temple of Khamoon
Word Count: 439 (+1 EXP)

Stats, skills, abilities, and experience aside, a major aspect of Fox’s advantage against Robin lay in his familiarity with his opponent and what he was capable of--a benefit denied to Robin through forced amnesia by the power that possessed his heart and mind. As the duel looked to decisively favor him, Fox soon saw his lead begin to disappear the moment it ceased to be a duel. Robin called upon his sorcerous partner to attend him, and at that point, Fox hadn’t been able to so easily touch him again.

The rhythm of his opponents' attacks tightened, naturally, with one set of strikes and spells chased with another spell directly behind it. Further temptation to reflect any of their magic was quickly discouraged when suffering the first hit of Hex, forcing Fox to resort purely to evasive acrobatics and swift maneuvering about the field to try to keep them moving at his pace. The problem was they now didn’t have to work as hard for it, needing not to move much at all if they didn’t want to, granting them effective control of the fight, and from a distance they had the fire superiority. Even targeting Tharja proved fruitless as they managed together to keep her firmly tucked defensively behind Robin, who was somehow better for taking the hit with her aid. Luckily, Fox benefited likewise from their own backline, even if he couldn’t feel it, or the effects of the Hex that may or may not have cancelled it out.

Prognosis: unfavorable. Fox wouldn’t be able to keep up a range game with them while they continued to repeatedly force back his advances and attempts to pressure, but perhaps, he wouldn’t have to. Calling upon his aforementioned familiarity with Robin as he knew him--as a combatant--one particular flaw in his fighting style came to mind: attrition. Was their magic still exhaustible? Could he last long enough to burn them out and force them on cooldown while he made his move, or would he have to make a new move before then? Regardless, he would try either way, starting by Jetting skyward above them, where Tharja’s grounded spell wouldn’t reach him, and he was free to use his Reflector against the first retaliatory spell either one of them threw out at him. Then, he would fire a hard shot at Tharja to force one of them to move in her defense, granting him a second long enough to dive down at them with a charge of Fire and begin another close-up assault on the tactician, looking to wear him down enough to free him and end their unproductive conflict.

World of Light

Level: 6 (5 -> 6/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon - Obelisk Temple
Word Count: 477 (+1 EXP)

Disappointingly, Es was not yet ready to be awoken from her Illuminated stupor. The same, then, could not yet be hazarded with Azwel either, as the measure of his zeal against his sense of reason (or with it) thereafter was even less certain. What was certain, however, was that they both had a fair amount of fight left in them. Fox moved to meet Es halfway to make good on Azwel's setup, but unexpectedly moved the rest of the way on him to catch him in a punishing attack string. With the last hit, he ended up next to the arriving members of Yellow Team, who briefly provided reinforcement enough to force an advantage on Es and defeat her… had she not been warped to safety (presumably) in the midst of Azwel's flamboyantly called-out finisher.

In the implosion of vibrant crimson and azure against the golden glow of a magic teleportation circle, it didn't escape Fox that Es's disappearance wasn't the sorcerer's doing, a fact by which he seemed to be more amused than anything. Just as well. Even with a provisional alliance, Fox stood by not wanting to let the Grimleal have their way if it meant total annihilation of "the enemy". One of their own--and who knows how many others, perhaps better deserving--happened to be among them. For him, that was reason enough for what they were doing… and whatever they did from there.

After having his wounds flame-licked, the group proceeded further down into the catacombs. Besides the fact that they were in enemy territory--and clearly expected--Fox had a hard time sharing the deduction that stalling puzzles and traps awaited them, should they proceed carelessly. Tora was right about one thing for sure; they would have time to gather and recuperate, and now had a better look at their opposition against which to prepare accordingly. That was fine with him, for that went both ways. They, too, better knew what they were up against now. Their main disadvantage now lay in being at half their collective strength on unfamiliar turf.

The problem, currently, was finding which way they went. Excepting for Tora and Poppi, the latter of whom could fly and hear from Fox if needed, splitting up to try paths was obviously out, for they were already at half of their number even with the return of the Thieves and samurai. Investigative happenstance turned up a possible solution moments into their trial, prompting the remaining party to begin their search up and down for the remaining pieces of the puzzle. Fox left them to it while he stepped away to phone the other squad for an update on their progress. If they were wading into an obvious trap the way they already thought they were, it might do for both ends to know what things looked like on the other...

“Necronomicon, report!”

World of Light

feat.

GM

@Lugubrious

Level: 6 (2 -> 5/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon - Obelisk Temple
Word Count: 1781 (+3 EXP)

Power: Charge Shot

Upon discovering the first telltale signs of conflict already underway after entering the monument atrium, the splinter group made ready to move in, but were slower to act. While others discussed possible routes, Fox spared no second of hesitation before leaping from the balcony in a three-step running start without a word. With two aerial traversal methods available to him--needing for only one--he would have no trouble clearing the jump (or redirecting his flight if/as necessary). Of course, not all of his team could say the same, hence their delay, but he knew he couldn’t afford to simply hang back with them to find them another way if he could better serve them by leading a head start on reinforcement. He just had to trust that they would catch up while he bought time up ahead.

It turned out they wouldn’t have far to go (but plenty to get through after an ambush), for the ongoing battle waged in the corridor just two stories down with no further rooms or halls in-between, as Fox could now plainly see. He darted forth, abruptly cutting into the middle of the action, and sliding to a stop on both feet, ducking low to the ground. His hands hovered at both sides, above his sidearm and shield each, ready to reflexively draw whichever one the situation most immediately demanded.

Having come upon a fight already well underway and thrown himself straight into the thick of it, Fox quickly learned exactly what that meant. He got only a quick glance at the temple’s third floor, broad and square in shape and bearing no features save flame-lit wall sconces and a forest-like array of archway-linked pillars throughout, before an unidentified assailant appeared before him. She moved with just about imperceptible speed, kicking up a gust of wind that tousled Fox’s fur as she paused in front of him. The stranger, a blonde girl in a fanciful dress who wielded a giant zweihander longer than she was tall, stared at him for a brief moment with blue eyes of utter blankness. “Entity not recognized. Commencing termination.”

She darted forward, swinging her blade as if it weighed nothing. No slouch in the speed department, Fox flipped back out of the way of the rebel’s sword, but noticed too late something off about the trail it left behind. The arc of blue light, darker toward the sword’s base and lighter to the tip, expanded outward to form a crescent of hard light crests, sharp enough to draw blood and then some. Es did not pause to see the results of her attack, but leaped past Fox with another crescent slash over his shoulder, then a third at his right hip, boxing him in. The next second she loomed over him a downward slash summoning a spear-like crest to impale the overeager pilot from above.

Then a blue light appeared from nowhere and slammed into Es mid-plunge. Fox caught a glimpse of Azwel, wielding a blue crystalline shield. “Forget about me?” he cried as he extended his other hand. From a spark of light a terrific double-bladed battle-axe manifested, red as crystalized blood and lit from within, and with a form of magic telekinesis he brought the axe’s head down to cleave the girl’s in two. Instead she blocked it, forced by its weight back to the ground. With her sword she slapped it aside, only to be greeted by two levitated scimitars of red and blue. Controlled by Azwel, they attacked like hornets, stinging again and again until she flung them aside with a spin sweep and lunged Azwel’s way. Her blade flashed beneath the sorcerer’s conjured shield and cut into his leg, but the azure spear that shot out from beneath the shield and sent her flying away more than paid her back for it.

She got up and disappeared behind a fallen pillar, one of many already felled by the furious duel. “Splendid!” Azwel crowed as he limped up to stand beside Fox. “We’ll take the stage together!” He summoned his twin swords and entered a ready stance, the weapons crossed over his chest. “Flush her out now, I’ll be waiting in the wings!”

Having paid in cuts and piercings for an unsolicited* taste of what Azwel had been dealing with for the likely duration of their raid, (*In fairness, Fox had intended to fight, so the instinctual assumption that he was a definitive threat on her part was circumstantially valid, even though he intended to help in a way while he was at it.), he had already begun making mental adjustments to his approach to be put into effect. Subverting her gimmick would likely be a simple matter of getting in through the gaps to stay inside of her weapon’s effective range, which was par for his usual method, so little at all would change for him if he was right. The main thing he would have to worry about was her greater mobility with which she could create and close distance as needed in little time, an advantage usually afforded to him that they had in common here.

To start, he closed on her cover with a Burst dash directly for it, intended to blow it apart, or force her out of it. Whether she took the hit or got away clean, he would chase her into the air to keep pressure on, wearing down her guard or health with airborne melee until one or both of them had to back off. Where he used kicks up-close, he answered in kind with light shots at a distance, more as a distraction or to bait out attacks than a means of offense. Long range, or arm’s reach, with no in-between: he aimed to manage that for spacing to control the pace of the fight… while considering that he wasn’t the only other one in it.

Fox’s explosive dash took a chunk out of the pillar he targeted, kicking up enough force and shrapnel to convince Es to move. Being a swordfighter, of course, the artificial human had always intended to go toe-to-toe with her opposition, and doing so meant quickly coming to terms with whatever tricks and traits Fox might offer. The two quickly ascended into the room’s limited air space, and while they exchanged blows Azwel hurried over. Fox and Es clashed at blistering speed, a flurry of limbs and gleaming arcs, with Fox a little speedier thanks to the more straightforward path of his punches and kicks versus his foe’s slashes. He landed a handful of strikes across her arms and torso, but any chance at building up enough momentum to overwhelm her was dashed by her crests. With every swing, landed or not, Es left behind more and more trails of ephemeral patterns that took just longer to fade than they did to make. The end result was an array of blades and spikes that served as defense just as much as offense, forcing Fox to constantly rethink his attack patterns lest he cut or skewer himself.

After a brief but furious moment the pair split, with Es using her blade to block Fox’s parting shots. He kicked off again the moment he landed in pursuit of her to find that she’d launched herself at him as well. She span like a vertical sawblade to unleash two wheeling slashes that Fox evaded, only to finish with a quick jab of her sword’s hilt right to Fox’s sternum. In retaliation she took a strike right to the head, only to follow through anyway into a horizontal cleave that clipped Fox as he jumped away. The results of that blow plus the ones he dealt earlier were ample proof that Es didn’t take damage like an ordinary teenage girl, either.

“Can you stand the test?!” As Fox repositioned himself Azwel moved in, and his scimitars bit into Es’ back. When she turned to face him she found a conjured axe sweep already on its way and leaped back out of its path onto the fallen pillar. Azwel’s axe appeared above her but fell far too slowly to stop her dashing his way. The sorcerer only just got his shield up in time to block a waterwheel swing, but the crescent trail prevented him using the spear he brought out along with it. In midair Es pivoted to unleash another horizontal, the crests of which formed a cross along with those of its predecessor. Azwel withstood them as best he could with his feet planted, but the great downward spike that followed him smashed him into the ground beneath his shield. He rolled away as Fox approached once more, conjured a floating shield that he crouched upon, and charged Es from the opposite side surrounded by suspended weaponry. “For the human race!”

As the two closed in Es jumped again, unleashing slash after slash to fill the air with crests and stop her enemies in their tracks. As he attacked Fox needed to not only maneuver his way past the crests, but also avoid getting accidentally impaled by Azwel’s charge. This served as yet another reminder that Fox was actually fighting not one, but two that would need to be pacified, and he wasn’t sure how much energy he would have left to manage it on his own if he made the mistake of allowing it to last.

Quicker to process their impending collision, it fell to Fox to avert it through quick evasive action. He sprang around the first vertical crest he passed, touching down by one hand to propel himself forward between two more horizontal and diagonal formations, essentially diving between them. He hit the ground once more in a foot-forward slide beneath Azwel’s surfing shield and between every jousting weapon he controlled. All the while, he opened the action on his blaster, chambered a Heart into it, and readied it once more with a sustained squeeze of the trigger to begin building energy at the lens for a more powerful shot.

Whether Es was ready to be freed or not--as a measure of damage taken--didn’t (and likely wouldn’t) show, so he was taking decisive action to wound and heal in one move on the assumption that it might work. His best indication was in his provisional ally’s condition, evidencing fatigue. He would have to wait, for Fox’s sights trained narrowly past him as soon as he stood. With a sufficient charge welled at his fingertips, he released the echo trigger to let fly an empowered, vibrant pink blast intended for Es, knowing that, success or fail, it wouldn’t end the fight either way.

World of Light

Level: 5 (47 -> 53/50) LEVEL UP! ---> 6 (3 -> 6 -> 2/60)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon
Word Count: 1639 (+3 EXP)

(Level up pending…)

Fox held the now cleansed Sombra suspended on her heels, peering at her sharply while she came to her senses. The spared second of direct eye contact betrayed the expected mix of feelings--namely confusion and frustration in this case. The situation would not allow for a lengthy, in-depth analysis, however, as they were still all in the midst of a heated team battle. Fox was swiftly reminded of that when narrowly ducking a horizontal ring blade slash from behind. He went to the ground with his evasive motion, pulling Sombra to as he deposited her safely to the floor and rolling away to create space between, in case she should resume hostilities, but also to spare her the proximal danger of his ongoing clash with the schizophrenic swordswoman while she regained herself. Sombra shot him one more parting look before disappearing out of sight and away from the conflict once again.

Dangerously short on ways to get past Tira’s wildly swinging ring blade, and with little else in the way of getting around it, Fox quickly found himself backing up until he ran out of ground to give. The flat of her greave to his chest bounced him off the wall and into the swiping blade as it ran quickly across his front on the rebound, opening thread and hide alike. Luckily, the cut was made cleanly by the smooth edge rather than going against the ornate serrations, subtly highlighting her sadistic nature by the underlying cruelty of her method. She followed up on the cornered Fox with an unconventional multi-attack string that involved slipping the ring around her form and travelling it in circles up the length of her torso by gyrating her hips and body; a dedicated technique taking advantage of the weapon’s design.

Fox couldn’t immediately retaliate against the bizarre, pressuring maneuver, as he was more focused on flattening himself against the wall to avoid it as the ring lashed at him, its edge missing his neck and chin by an uncomfortable margin. Thankfully, the reduced range on her attack gave him just enough breathing room to realize the low opening in her guard, parry the ring with an armored boot tip to the blade’s cheek, punctuated by contact sparks and a ringing metallic report, and capitalize with a sweeping kick/tail swipe to the ankle. As she came off her feet she dropped to the floor to spin on her ring like a coin and deliver a double-leg sweep of her own to counter. Fox recovered by catching himself back on balance with a fluid handstand, complimented by a staggering scorpion kick flat toTira’s face upon rising, and followed through into backflip/bicycle kick.

While his signature/finishing move didn’t quite fully connect, it did manage to break her guard momentarily, but she managed to deftly reorient herself to catch Fox’s gun arm with the inner rim of her ring and redirect a point blank blaster shot to graze her cheek. A tandem pirouette resulted from the entwining struggle that followed, bringing them face-to-face in a tight deadlock in the space between Tira’s weapon. It was then that a verbal and visual signal of Klee’s all-out bombardment caught Fox’s attention, whereupon he bounded away from Tira with a tucking drop kick to separate them. However, he was still close enough to the blast to be affected by the concussive force of it, as he was thrown face-first into the wall and momentarily incapacitated by the impact, which was slightly more than he could say for his opponent.

Seconds passed in the silent aftermath, and Fox, bleary-eyed, made it slowly to his feet and tried to regain his bearings. Although worse off, it seemed everyone on both sides had survived, including Tira, with his help putting her out of the way of a direct impact. Moreover, he considered that he and some of the others may have gotten just a little bit lucky with the conclusive case of mass friendly fire saving them, though he would never admit or even acknowledge it.

Putting a hand to his wounded chest and pulling it away as if to draw out a Heart, he stopped for a moment to look upon the bloody print it left on the surface of his palm. Suddenly, he received an incoming call from Necronomicon informing him that the Thieves were inbound for what, to them, was simply the sight of an unknown conflict (though a safe guess on their part likely painted a good enough picture for them).

“Not a moment too soon,” Fox remarked tiredly to himself before responding. “That’s us. We’ll fill you in as soon as you get here.” Through the garage opening he could make out other figures on a slower approach, whom he soon recognized to be among the Grimleal that he had met earlier that day. “You might want to hurry,” he added in closing before taking his first steps forward to convene with his team and theirs, subtly, gingerly dropping a Friend Heart onto the unconscious blade dancer from his blood-covered hand as he passed.

Midna beat him to speaking up in persuasive deterrence of Kan-Ra’s plans to execute the rebels by outright revealing the nature of Hearts and their effects on the Gleaming, demonstrating as much along with Tora and Poppi. This seemed to pique his interest enough to refrain from killing the captives for the time being, even if it sounded like he was looking for a way to talk himself back into it. Where lied the need to “interrogate” them, after all, if they already knew everything they needed to? Unless, of course, they didn’t, and there was somehow still more to this civil war. That would have to wait, for Kan made it clear just how little time they had to make their next move, whatever that may entail. He went as far as to volunteer a conscripted rebel, apparently eager to betray upon waking and learning, to direct them accordingly.

“And what about the other one?” he inquired simply following the divulgence of one location. “Where can we find Robin?” he added more softly to his line of inquiry, narrowing don’t his focus and intent for the mission. Whether they split the group--and thus their collective strength--to go after them in unison for urgency’s sake, or took the chance on tackling them one after the other, they needed to know where both bases were before they set out. With all of their wounds freshly healed and vitality restored (to which Fox made a mental note about the Grimleal’s level of preparedness), they were all but ready to. They just needed a clear direction.

With the arrival of the Phantom Thieves they made ready to move out, but just before the last of them could get going, Fox hung back and halted Kan-Ra, isolating them so he could make his singular, critical address to him. “Just so we’re clear,” he started, before turning to face the sorcerer, making (for him, naturally) sharp eye contact. “We’re doing ALL of them this way--OUR way--no casualties!” Gesturing back to Klee and Baz with his gun arm (which he had still been holding the whole time, ready to draw a bead on any one of them if the occasion arose), he further emphasized his point, without breaking eye contact. “You won’t be doing yourselves any favors by making orphans… Believe me.” On that, Fox spoke from experience. Whether Kan took that much away was incidental. Fox still didn’t trust them, but he didn’t have to for them to know how he felt about their original plan, or to consider the consequences should they unilaterally see it through. “Make sure you and the rest of yours understand that.” With the implicit punctuation to close out his interlude address to the Grimleal lieutenant, he didn’t wait for a response before turning away to head out and catch up with the rest of the group, leaving Kan-Ra with his thoughts for the brief moment he could spare for them.

Fox, being among the more fleet of foot among Yellow Team, had little trouble at all rejoining them on the move. As they made their way, Midna fast tracked their tentative new recruit through on the makeup of the World he had just been woken up in, and their simple plan for dealing with it. With the big picture now in mind, the ex-rebel reconciled an excuse for revenge against his now former boss, assuring them of his intent to cooperate with a non-lethal approach.

“Good, because we’re not interested in your vendetta. Get revenge on your own time,” he told him before belaboring, “If we wanted anyone dead, you wouldn’t be here right now.” It wasn’t long before they came to a sudden stop on account of his personality problems in conflict with that of another--one they had already met, in fact. Apparently familiar with each other by proxy, having originated from the same world/universe, the two couldn’t help themselves engaging in a verbal dick measuring contest of comical, borderline cartoonishly villainous ego stroking, at which Fox sighed before interjecting.

“Are you two finished?” he cut in sternly, perceptibly annoyed by the delaying obtrusion. “We don’t have time for this...” At the same time, however, he noticed that the delay gave the rest of the team a chance to collaborate about the upcoming split, as well as better equip themselves. They were at a crossroads, so to speak, and they would have no better time to decide who would go where. As for how they would go about it when they got there, for one side, the other, or neither, was a matter probably best played by ear. Still, he took the time afforded to him to consider his options; to think ahead for once in his career...

World of Light

Level: 5 (47 -> 48 -> 50 -> 47/50)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon
Word Count: 1079 (+2 EXP)

“That’s them!” To the trumpet’s call, Fox answered, promptly drawing his sidearm and getting himself and everyone else into gear. “Move!” he called, breaking into a sprint in Poppi’s guided direction, who then joined them back at ground level on the way. The commotion, perceptive over the typical activity of the bazaar (so keeping a lid on was out), led them the rest of the way to a warehouse with the garage wide open. The sustained bombardment of the entrance might have made intervention more difficult for them if not for Midna’s pets taking hits for them, for which Fox mentally thanked her as he vaulted over the creature through a plume of flame and smoke between bombings and into the warehouse proper.

Immediately, he honed in on one of the other two firearm wielders there besides himself, opening up on the cybernized rogue among them. If nothing else, Sombra now had a new target to focus on that compulsion would force her to deal with, dividing their collective attention further. The first stream of shots that hit prompted a quick escape on her end, achieved by triggering the Translocator beacon she had tossed up onto the catwalk previously.

From on high she had an advantageous angle on the intruders, even if it meant working slightly outside of her weapon’s effective range. She made use of it by returning fire on Band, Midna and Fox, the latter of whom threw up his shield in response to the first sting of bullet spray at his back. Naturally, she ceased fire at the realization that she was riddling herself with her own shots, and before Fox could tack on more damage with his own, she vanished in a starting run with a purple shimmer, buying her a moment to recuperate and reposition.

The break in engagement set Fox’s eye to darting around for other enemies to fight/allies to aid, taking potshots periodically to keep any less occupied foes from getting too comfortable. It was then he saw the exuberant ring blade wielder make a predatory move against Yoshitsune, unprovoked, while he was down, somersaulting after him with a running start and both feet together against the inner rim of her weapon to drive it down onto him like a guillotine. After squeezing off a heavier shot to disrupt her mid-flight, Fox almost beat his own shot there in a blue, ghostly rush to tilt her drop off-axis by delivering a snapping toe kick to the bottom broad of the blade itself, followed by two rising tornado kicks meant for its wielder. Only the first caught her by the chin, as she blocked the second during her recovering backflip and threaded herself through her hoop in a descending spiral kick in retaliation to knock Fox back to the floor.

He tumbled to his feet to find her on top of him with a seamless, unrelenting string of dance-like blade slashes, both horizontal and vertical, that he was to work to dodge by the skin of his snout or the hairs of his ears and tail, at one point glancing a blow against the minimal armor of his plated glove, but not without being grazed with one or two of them. Fox interrupted her routine with a distracting shot to force her on her guard and chased it with a flurry of whirling kicks to be blocked, all save for the repelling finisher to her abdomen. Swift, agile and aggressive as both fighters were, neither could find or force a wide enough opening on the other to gain ground in their exchange.

“Don’t mind me,” Sombra taunted upon re-emerging to lopside Fox and Tira’s duel with a projective keystroke from every digit of her off-hand and more submachine gun fire to chase it with. Fox found his Reflector to be locked up, and that his other abilities were somehow disabled as well, leaving him wide open to the hacker’s counteroffensive. Only after catching the first second of sustained fire for his trouble did he evasively leap aside and return fire, but hitting nothing as she found cover. Tira took advantage of the distraction to slip her weapon around his neck from behind in a choking grapple, pressing her feet to his back as she pulled away in a gymnastic maneuver and slamming him overhead. He had to scramble to recover to avoid the successive heavy slams of her ring that followed, fragments of the concrete erupting with every impact as she aggressively growled with exertion on the last strike.

With the tie broken against him, Fox was finding more trouble dealing with the fierce dancer than was typical for him, on top of dealing with the repercussions of not finishing the first fight he started. He had contended with a number of blade wielders in the past, but none of whom matched her variable, unorthodox style or sadistic fervor. The key to beating her, perhaps, lay in the observation that her style and personality visibly flipped with the changing of her stances, from jubilance to anger and back with little in between. A break came for him during Big Band’s thunderous clash with another to rock the foundations of their place of battle, lending Fox a moment to knock her away with an advancing outward crescent kick to capitalize on a break in her guard in her less defensive ‘Gloomy’ stance.

He swiftly responded to the sneaky press of a muzzle to his back by turning and swiftly deflecting Sombra’s gun arm, wrapping his own around it to lock her down in an act of basic joint manipulation to prevent her from escaping again. He then threw two knee strikes into her chest to weaken her, drew her back by her collar, pressed the lens of his blaster to her sternum, and pulled the trigger. Her eyes constricted with a gasp as she fell limply back out of his grip, but where there should have been an entry wound was instead a fading heart symbol. Fox reached out to catch her by her open hand before she could hit the ground, clasping her arm in his own. The question now was whether or not it was enough to cure her of her Gleam, for he could only work on assumption for every case. Moreover, if it worked, would she understand the gesture upon waking, and what was her next move either way? For safety, Fox mentally prepared for a negative response regardless.

World of Light

Level: 5 (45 -> 47/50)
Location: Sandswept Sky - Al Mamoon
Word Count: 975 (+2 EXP)

The point wasn’t lost on Fox. He knew the towering detective had been keeping a loose tail on him. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide the fact, even if a man of his size and mass with built-in noise makers was somehow capable of doing so. Whether he trailed him to act as contingent backup or out of underlying suspicion was up to him, but either would be understandable. Even if they meant well, a seasoned investigator worth his salt couldn’t rightly be expected to fully trust some ragtags he just met.

If anything could be said for sure about him, it’s that he better knew how to play the field--and more--for what he needed. It didn’t take Band long to post up outside of a heavily trafficked locale to put his instruments to good use. It took Fox a second from the initial twitch of his ears registering jazz tones to realize what the Big man was doing. In applying his unique talents to create a more comfortable, inviting, and perhaps disarming atmosphere, he made for himself a perfect cover from which to observe the crowd as patrons and passersby came and went. Fox respected the idea such that he almost wanted to drop a tip in his hat if not for lacking in physical (or presently any) currency to do so. At any rate he had more important things to think about; namely taking advantage of the distraction provided to slip off into the cracks in the scene, and looking for anyone else who would be doing the same.

---

Alas, after nearly an hour of searching for conspicuous oddities among the bustle, he came up cold and dry, figuratively speaking. He ended up ducking off into a shaded alley to find a minute of respite from the midday desert heat in the midst of his thus far fruitless search for anything at all. The boredom of it was starting to get to him more than anything else (as tended to be the case), as he was left with a moment to consider what he had been doing wrong, the first and most obvious thing being working out of his element in general. Matters of the covert and any requiring greater discretion or a more discerning eye weren’t exactly his forte, as one who seldom needed to hunt down a target.

Perhaps his newest acquaintance with lifelong experience in the criminal could provide his particular insights on the case. Fox might have had a mind to contact him and ask if he only knew how to reach him. In any case, he had a feeling they wouldn’t be seeing him again until later in the day, closer to (or at) night. Hopefully, by then, he will have at least found out more than them.

Until then, he had naught else he could do but retrace his steps and reconsider his approach. It occurred to him on the trek back to the bar where he left Band that he may have stood out a little too much to anyone looking back, who didn’t want to be found. Perhaps deviating from the scene rather than immersing himself in it was the wrong move; that he was checking the wrong places in the wrong way. He was now realising that whoever he was looking for could (and may very well) have just as easily blended into the setting when given the opportunity. It was a bit late for it now, but setting aside a moment to relax--or at least appearing to--may better benefit his end of the investigation than a dedicated (ergo visible) effort. At that, he actually find a restful moment of peace by accident in pretending to try.

It seemed that moment would come slightly later, for when he made it back to the block where the Hound Pits was located, He found empty space formerly occupied by Big Band when last he saw him. Further inspection confirmed that he wasn’t inside the establishment either. A quick ask to an attentive patron/staff about the whereabouts of the one visitor they couldn’t miss would lead him vaguely in the direction he had taken off in, whereupon he happened upon the scene of a thwarted crime, thanks to Band himself, as he found out. With a small sum of convincing, Hunnigan gave him the briefest rundown of what had taken place mostly in her fortuitous absence, and pointed him in the proper direction where he could find the detective to reconvene. He thanked the office attendant for the information (what little she could assuredly provide) and went on his way.

Within the cool, misty cafe he would find not only Big Band, but the better share of the rest of the crew as well. Thus came that moment of relaxation as he joined them, pulling up a seat next to the detective. He would mildly regret reintroducing his now mist-moistened fur to the desert sun to suffer the humidity later, but it couldn’t be helped. Having grown up on an arid, desolate desert planet, and been consistently underdressed (even sleeveless) in the snow, he was never one to be openly bothered by the elements.

“I’d ask if you found anything on your end, but… I think I’ve already seen it,” he addressed to Band specifically. He tried--somewhat convincingly--to bury his frustration with coming up empty-handed beneath a bearing of forward objectivity “So what’s our play?” While the question was meant primarily for the detective, anyone with additional leads or answers was free to offer them, for which he waited and read the table. On this particular matter, he was content to let the Big man take the lead, being clearly the most experienced at it. That didn’t mean, however, that he would be getting comfortable enough to cease looking over his back for any would-be pursuers.