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In The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist


The raw force of creation that the ancient Gods once made the world and universe out of.

That was an interesting way to phrase it. Isidore wasn’t much of a scientist himself, but if the very fundamentals of the world around him wasn’t understood in terms of the building blocks of atoms and the origins of the Big Bang, then that certainly changed many things. More importantly, however, was the revelation that such power could be granted just as easily as it could come from within. Sorcha came to mind, with her ‘unique’ ability of electromagnetism. The Urutha, with their demonic ties, must have the same roots then. Gifted the power to survive in a world that had drastically changed due to the Moonless Era. And as for arrogance…

That got a smile out of Isidore.

The arrogance of childhood, believing the world centered around one’s self. The arrogance of adolescence, believing in one’s own invincibility. The arrogance of adulthood, believing in experience and strength. The arrogance of age, believing in wisdom and connections. Mellowed out as he may have been, he always was an egotist, and considering Augusta’s own predilections, she must’ve been one too.

Though the lack of a unifying theory was disappointing, and Rullphana’s general rule seemed like a rather intuitive one, that addendum about the Elder Beasts was useful. Powers not bound by the concept of magic, nor constrained by the consumption of mana. What difference was there between that and the gifts of the Storyteller? And how would the Stieneter’s power clash with the crystalline growths that emerged from Isidore’s own body when encountering physical trauma? Questions he wouldn’t voice until he exhausted other sources. And as for the grand mage’s assessment of Augusta’s powers…well, that too was a nice bonus. What applied to the reincarnated Sirithen applied to himself as well, after all, and the little display from Raezel helped as well, in offering a view of ‘magic’ as an energy in and of itself, capable of existing outside one’s body.

“Thank you,” he intoned after some contemplation. “It was enlightening.”

The nature of magic was that of creation. Creation of flame, creation of flesh, creation of restraints. So everything around him, in some way, possessed magic. Which meant that his visualization of a furnace wasn’t wholly correct. Which meant…

Isidore re-imagined his core, burning bright, burning hot. There had never been a real fire in his stomach though, nor real coals that searing blue and white. Rather, it must have all taken the shape of that strange light that passed from that Urutha apprentice’s hands. And the fuel it took in must not have been oxygen, but some form of atmospheric mana. Connections were made more and more easily now, synapses forming in a brain unfettered by age or scientific sense. Augusta’s physical form was still merely a construct of mana. That was why she became translucent, fragile when the demon flower tried to draw her into the depths. What was magical could create the physical, and what was physical could return to the magical. In which case, it was only natural that the magical could also augment the physical.

The dark-haired man tightened his stomach, focused his will…and did not take a breath.

Slowly, his body relaxed. He let go of that image of a furnace within his stomach. It was rude for an observer to participate in a lesson that someone else had paid for, after all. Instead, Isidore reached into the folds of his ragged outfit again, and this time handed the seed of the demonic plant to Rullphana. “It’ll be a privilege to witness the work of a professional, if you'll allow us.”
In Cacophony Concord → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
While Raime and Amulak malded, the two of them collectively getting high blood pressure from the sheer inanity of a gamer farming monsters inside a dungeon, Lugh remained unaffected, the words of the scout just rolling off his back as he remained where he was. “Relax, relax,” the swordsman said. “Dunno what system you’re talking about, but she’s only worried cause she doesn’t know, yeah? I’ve just been killing those mobs off down there myself, really. Met some folks that told me about this spot, even.”

He nodded then tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Still, just the two of you here? C’mon, I’ll introduce you two to them. Maybe with three, they’ll introduce us to a better spot and you can get your, y’know, farming stuff done. For whatever that event is.”
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

The voice of a boy sounded, annoyingly high-pitched and raspy. “Um, three of them left, and one of them stayed. Really weird looking girl with cat ears. You sure she wasn’t a monster? She was there just a while ago though.”

“Is that so?” Man-Joji intoned.

Within the span of that short conversation, Ari burst into action, wriggling out of the carpet she had rolled inside by mimicking the same movements of a snake. If it had been a heavier one, or perhaps a fluffier one, the task would have been much more difficult, but the thinness of the material meant that it was easy enough to slip out without too much sound. Perhaps a couple of the adjacent rolls of carpets shifted during her movements, but such could also have been explained by them just having been moved while the cart made it across hills and rocks. There hadn’t been any pattern to the ordering, after all.

Or, at least, none that Ari noticed.

Sliding onto the front seat and eliciting only a dull neigh of acknowledgement from the old mule, the catgirl flopped herself into a vaguely uncomfortable position on the front seat right as Man-Joji checked the interior of the cart once more. But Ari was long gone, and the merchant’s steps, heavy and slow within the dilated time that she still experienced, drew closer and closer to the front.
Her eyes were closed, and her body was in a facsimile of relaxation, but her traitorous heart continued to pound while her mind danced with thoughts of what exactly a ‘robust’ floor was supposed to mean.

And in the light of evening, a shadow was cast over her, a cold stillness.

Man-Joji, the merchant, stood beside the front seat, not a word spoken since coming across Ari. He lifted a hand adorned with many rings and extended it towards the prone catgirl.

Even with her eyes closed, she could feel it closing in on her throat or her head, the space between the two becoming smaller and smaller, like a noose tightening around a criminal’s neck as the executioner continued to turn the wheel.

Then, the hand touched her shoulder, and shook.

“Not a comfy bed, is it, Ari?” Man-Joji said, his tone…jovial. “Come with me, I’ve got you Immortals two huts to rest in for the night.”
@GreenGoat
In Silver Gate Academy [Accepting New Players] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Sho Minazuki

Two sides of the same coin? It was an interesting analogy, one that mapped well with Otis's own Wikipedia-level understanding of Shintoism and the origin of Fuujin. Birthed from an individual that could be considered the 'demon queen', and one who escaped from hell to terrorize the living alongside his brother, Fuujin may have become worshiped to appease, rather than worshiped for greater boons. From Motsumine's own words, however, it looked as if the ancient exorcism that the Kyoto Alliance practiced was only a shallow tool, capable of scratching one face of a coin but not another. Unfortunate in the present, but another thing worth studying in the future.

On Earth, the divine and the demonic seemed to be separated by some curious universal morality, formulated from the zeitgeist of the human consciousness, but in Arcanis, gods were gods whether they were good or evil. If he had a chance to check in with his former profs, Otis would definitely do so. Shame they didn't have an e-mail address or a Facebook account though. Would've made hitting up those fellows at Maxillius so much easier.

Well, no matter. The Sennen no Matsuri were demons and Otis couldn't safely research the egg with them still around, so he would rein in his questions this time around and make it fast.

"There was no luck involved," he spoke, tone measured. "The first instance, he was matched by a Yatagarasu. The second instance, he was underestimating us. I simply need to know though. During our second fight, he used a certain technique to mold his essence into a sword, and yet that sword was never actually used. Through detection magics, it looked to have become a part of his body. What is that? Is there any record of it? What does it do? Is it magic or natural ability?"
In Cacophony Concord → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
With the frontline staying back and the backline moving in, there was once again some sort of strange inversion happening with the party. Perhaps it would be fine though; after all, Amulak was still one of the tankiest members of the team, while Raime was still reasonably fast. It would be fine. It was fine.

Scaling through the ruins with as much stealth as possible from a mage in plate and a one-armed scout, the duo were fortunate enough to avoid encountering any monsters, taking to the shadows of moss-grown walls and ducking beneath gnarled, uprooted trees. Beyond the muted extolment of near-demonic violence, there was nothing that clued them in whether or not the gang of lamias had actually nested here. No scales, no trails, and certainly no glimpses of half-snake booty. It made reaching Lugh easier at least, with the duo taking to the outside of dilapidated building, just in case the old ruins collapsed. Occasionally scrambling over rubble and occasionally climbing up with cracks and windowsills as holds, they ascended swiftly, the quick glances they took of the building's interior not showing them any monstrous threats.

And then, just like that, they were up on the roof, just ten meters below the treetop-bound Lugh. Before either of them could get a word in edgewise, however, the man himself turned, his bangs having gotten edgy enough that both his eyes were covered now, like the protagonist of a more...illicit work.

"Oh hey," Lugh said in a neutral tone. "Where's the rest of you?"
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

Cramped, claustrophobic, yet incredibly thin. Like hiding in a cardboard box, Ari's choice of a hiding spot constrained herself yet did not dull her sense of hearing in any way. Was the carpet threadbare, enough that it was obvious? Was her tail actually tucked into the furled fabrics? Had she perhaps made a mistake with her model's assets, and there were actually three distinct bulges in what should've been a uniform cylinder? All those questions and more may have raced through the catgirl's head, if she hadn't yet surrendered herself to the peace that was 'brain empty', but the footsteps of Man-Joji continued to approach, all the way until it sounded as if the ring-adorned merchant was standing right behind her.

Seconds crawled to minutes, her fight-or-flight instincts triggering the time perception dilution that ordinarily should've only happened during combat. She could hear him now, a murmur mixed between confusion and irritation. Yet his hands did not reach into the cart, and Ari remained unrevealed.

That was, until Man-Joji called out. "Oi, you there! Where did those Immortals go?"

And Ari remembered. The fisher boy by the river, who had stolen glances in her direction on more than just a few occasions. Had he seen her slip in? Or would he have just thought she'd left afterwards? In the breadth of time between question and answer, there was a choice to make.

Ante up or fold.
@GreenGoat
In -FV- → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
“Kyouko!” Tian-Gui beamed, motioning with his stump. “There’s another famous face. Been eating well, I hope?” Well, considering the reality-warper’s specific set of abilities, she was likely able to just refresh herself with her own powers, but the psychological effect of having a proper meal break couldn’t be understated.

Not that Tian-Gui was one to talk.

With the gang all together and John beginning his long talk, the Flamestone-wielder settled comfortably into his chair and began to consider the options. The Musicians of Bremen and the Church of Gears were both organizations, and handling organizations was a messy task, especially when they’re united by ideology rather than hierarchy. These were long-term problems, in the end, while Yesterday’s Promise was certainly the more punchable one here. A group of mercenaries who ascribed to the Thremont patriarch’s own ideals? It practically sounded like a sequel, doubly so when he considered the possibility that they may be more than a little interested in repossessing the Abyssal Engine currently under the Final Five’s jurisdiction.

The PSYBLOC Incident, however, gave him pause. Ten thousand square miles in Russia may not have been enough to swallow up anything major, but if this was something that spread, if this was something that occurred around the world, another ten thousand square miles of sudden emptiness could be devastating. It would be enough to handily swallow Shanhu whole. A separated space, an alternate dimension. He recalled that strange occurrence back in Mars. They had managed to return from alien places before, and, between Runa’s nigh-immortal physiology, his Flamestone’s anti-supernatural properties, and Kyouko’s time-reversal powers, they were well-equipped to do it again.

A trip to Iphie’s homeland sounded like a fun vacation, but compared to the sheer amount of unknowns PSYBLOC presented, chasing after a phantom thief would have to wait.

Tian-Gui placed his hand upon that document, his eyes sweeping across the room. “If no one else has any complaints, PSYBLOC’s got the most potential for a world-ending danger if left unchecked.” A grin flashed. “And I’m personally interested in experiencing a Russian winter. How ‘bout the rest of you?”
In Silver Gate Academy [Accepting New Players] → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Sho Minazuki

Such little information, such little promise. No plans that they were privy to, only the promise of being able to participate. Once again, the lack of knowledge pissed Otis off, but between Utsumi and Kuuto, it was clear that the former didn’t know what the latter did. Disappointing, yet there was no reason to lash out. The Strigidae drew in a deep breath, then nodded once, tersely.

“Fine.”

He finished his food, went into his empty, empty room, and got to work.

The weaknesses were clear now, both in the limitations and inefficiencies of his current magecraft, as well as in what more needed to be done in order to handle a transitional existence such as Shinzou. Though he had previously possessed knowledge of the half-yokai’s lineage, it seems as if leaning on one side of his bloodline or the other didn’t increase his vulnerability to anti-demon techniques noticeably. Strategies and tactics would have to be adjusted accordingly, and that wasn’t even taking into account the sheer amount of unknown factors that surrounded the site of any possible conflict, nor any other allies that the Sennen-no-Matsuri may bring to fold. Honestly, even if the students were brought into this conflict, there was no guarantee that they would personally face off against Shinzou.

It would be strange to do so, even, considering the disparity of power that the man had so casually displayed.

But that didn’t change Otis’s own decision-making. He was smart, but he was also stubborn. And while intelligence told him that not nearly enough time has passed for him to be able to pull a W out against Shinzou after two definitively Ls, obstinacy kept him going, kept him thinking. A meeting, arranged with Motsuhime to discuss what the man knew of that wind-wielding terrorist. And then…

The grind began.

It had been lonely, just a little bit, having such a large bedroom for himself, but now, it was for the betterment of all. Otis was a night owl, and experimentations in magecraft were oft times ill-conducive towards sleep. With chisel, hammer, reagents, and vials, he began his dark work, plagiarizing and reworking the techniques he’s learned to suit his own needs.

Back in Arcanis, he sought general combative ability to keep up with his magically-inclined peers.

Now in Kyoto, he was gonna shoot a goddamn ghost in the head and kill it.
In Cacophony Concord → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
“Oh yeah, sure.”

With that, the mud-drenched warrior released his hold on Amulak, allowing the mage to fall onto the ground with a ‘pomf’. They reached out and interacted with a window that only they could see, red eyes flickering back and forth through various details, before finally saying, “The ruins are up and east from here. Backtrack a bit, then take the left turn down this mossy tunnel, climb up the cliff, then the second right, then keep going through and you’ll make it out through this honeycomb-looking tunnel system. That should bring you about, what, twenty meters above the ruins? Should be able to figure out the rest from there.”

He grinned at Ames’s own reaction to the place, flashing a set of pearly whites. “Dunno what’s up with you, but I love this place. God the atmosphere’s great for some good ol’ fashion hacking and slashing. But yeah, sounds like y’all aren’t looking for shit here, so go on, skedaddle!”

And so the party did.

Leaving behind their unfortunate, yet ultimately helpful encounter with the mudbather, the party headed on, conversation between them quiet and largely inconsequential. Over time, their Resources would regenerate again, leaving them with only the memory of the short skirmish, and perhaps in another few days, another few weeks, another few months, even that would be forgotten. Through the desecrated tunnels, the cold dank and the clinging shadows, they walked, climbed, and slid until their destination revealed itself before them.

The eastern cavern, home to the remnants of an underground ruins, was closer to the surface than any of the other places they’ve visited before. Perhaps a few hundred years ago, a sinkhole had been what dropped the village into the depths of the Blasphemed Tunnels, and over time, the roots of the withered tree above had caught and coagulated soil and lesser vegetation until a scattered roof formed overhead, where the white fog of the grove above leaked in, letting some natural light as well. Scattered spotlights lit up various sections of the ruins; mossy heaps where wooden structures once have collapsed, rusted sculptures of some metal framework, and crumpled reminders of where stone walls may have been. From the vantage point they had within the honeycomb tunnels (perhaps openings used by some bug-like creatures that were no longer present), the party could make out movements within the ruins as well.

Amulak and Ames, with their supernatural senses honed by their differing disciplines, were naturally drawn to the southwestern section of the ruins, where the pure-white bones of the skeletons stood in contrast to their filthy surroundings. Though inanimate and all just laid out in unassuming heaps, a keen eye could tell that their skulls were opening and closing, teeth clicking together in a facsimile of speech. Scattered broadly over around a rotten estate, the skeletons didn’t look like they were a threat, but perhaps it was simply a matter of proximity. Anyone who played a horror game would know to treat dead bodies as possible threats, after all.

Raime, his physical senses sharper than most, picked out the presence of the goat-headed monsters that the necromancer had recalled before. Taking the entire northern section of the ruins, they seemed to possess some degree of human intellect and were even disturbingly human in form. Every single specimen looked to be male, with the bare chest of a muscular human and the furred limbs and hooves of a goat, accompanied by a goat head that looked twice as large as it should be on a body their size. Walking around with hunched poses, they stoked fire, worked leather, and affixed the skulls of various other monsters onto stakes, as if establishing their own territory. Occasionally, bursts of activity would catch his attention as well, the scout watching as two or three of the goat-headed monsters would break into a violent brawl, their fists blasting chunks of flesh off each others’ bodies until one of them fell and were promptly eaten by the other. Violent, bloody business, brutality crystallized into further revulsion with his realistic visuals setting.

It was Magpie and Klein, unburdened by any particular ‘sense’ granted by their jobs, who spotted that motionless figure sitting atop a withered tree that sprouted out from the center of a mostly intact but heavily dilapidated building. Wrapped in a dark cloak and cradling a sheathed katana that occasionally sparked with lightning, their face was turned to face northwards, trained on the boundary between the north and the southeastern portions of the ruins. Corpses of goat-headed monsters, numbering almost a dozen, cooled upon the cold stone of that same invisible boundary. A guard then. A familiar one.

Lugh.
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

Ari’s head remained connected to her head as she quickly scampered into the cramped wagon. Inside, it felt as if the floor of the wagon was higher than it needed to be, but a sturdy bottom may be what was needed to hold up the weight of all the carpets heaped on top. Rolling out one of the fluffiest ones wasn’t much of a great experience though, as even the most luxurious feeling one just felt more like a mat rather than anything that one could sink their exhausted feet into. Better than hard stone, perhaps, but nothing meant for a rich man to have. Surrounded by these carpets, however, it was clear that more than a few of them smelled old. Moldy may not have been the right word for it, but there was a definite smell of dirt and moss.

A strange smell for sure, when they haven’t even spent a full day in the wild yet.

But another problem emerged soon enough. Her ears perked up at Man-Joji calling out behind him in a foreign tongue, before footsteps sounded closer and closer to the wagon. Ari had seconds at most to respond, whether to come up with a lie or to hide herself. Escaping undetected, certainly, would be even more difficult than those two options: while her speed was superhuman, such speed was without a doubt loud. Whatever evidence of misdeeds Ari looked for was not yet found, and the merchant who expressively forbid interaction with the wagon was now approaching.

What was she to do?
@GreenGoat

In Cacophony Concord → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
“Never seen someone go mudbathing, huh?”

The warrior watched, vaguely bemused, as most of the party said their apologies in turn, with varying amounts of sincerity or formality. That wall-bashing girl in particular remained a pretty little riot, and all in all, he felt satisfied with how everything was resolved. No five new corpses, but at least they’ve all been nice about it. Nodding in approval and definitely not flustered by Magpie’s flying dogeza (after all, this was nothing compared to the triple axel dogeza), he took a brief moment to savor psychological victory, before tossing them a bone.

“Now, I dunno about horny for snake ladies, but there was this one edgelord in particular who was going around the tunnels, muttering about purging the darkness that laid within for the sake of his goddess. Bumped into him a few times, and last I saw, he was headed towards this old underground village thing.”
@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee

What did not happen was Ari instantly having her head cut off or for Man-Joji to suddenly appear behind her with some ominous words to say.

Rather, once the catgirl stuck her head into the wagon she was greeted with the sight of...well, rolled up fabrics. Some had fancier patterns than others, while others smelled of faint perfume, the essence of oranges and the like. A few looked exceptionally fluffy, but all of them looked like they'd fetch a good price. There were, however, no physical signs of the Rien that Xu Fu had initially detected.

And it was curious too, why a merchant would peddle fabrics to a city-state soon to be at war.
@GreenGoat
In The Epic of Beginnings - Fragments of a weathered scroll → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay

@Pyromania99@Rune_Alchemist


“Unfortunate.”

Isidore removed his hand from the folds of his cloak without retrieving the demon seed. Rullphana was certainly a character, wasn’t she? And Augusta as well, for brokering a deal without going into the specifics. In another situation perhaps, he would have handed over the demon seed without any incident. It was already valuable enough, just to have a knowledgeable individual look over it and to share that information with the rest of them. But now that the queen’s advisor had made it clear that such a seed had a special value, the dark-haired youth had no intent of letting it go so easily.

And perhaps, he was somewhat displeased as well.

“This is a deal between Augusta and yourself,” Isidore said. “But one of the assets to be exchanged is mine. Without my cooperation, this ‘deal’ cannot be completed. You understand, then, that this is not a deal between two individuals, but three.” He paused, his eyes sliding towards Octavia and Raelzeth, before returning to Rullphana. “And as Augusta and I have no plans to remain at Gloomhaven permanently, you should understand as well that Raelzeth’s opinion of your abilities as an instructor doesn’t paint a promising picture of what progress can be made.”

Isidore cradled his fingers, allowing them to rest above his navel.

“But we are all busy people, so allow me to offer a simple amendment, Lady Rullphana. You assess Augusta’s capabilities and talent as a mage and give her specifics on how much she can expect to improve under your tutelage, as well as give us a lecture on the theory behind magic, enough that one can self-study from that point. I only need that one lecture, and in return, your current deal with Augusta and myself can continue as is.”

He smiled with his mouth, not his eyes.

“Still a fair deal, yes? You will gain two rather unique assets, in exchange for what’s largely mundane to you.”
In -FV- → 3 yrs ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Every night, Tian-Gui could feel the arm he lost, the pain from the phantom limb that had been pulverized in his clash against the Thremont patriarch. It kept him awake, a constant reminder of the limits of his durability, a limit that he had finally met, after overcoming the ferocity of the Abyssals’ blasts and the roar of the battleships’ cannons. But it didn’t matter.

The Shield that Bore the Sun would bear all his scars with pride.

And while Runa and Kyouko continued their education, while Jin-Sun became reclusive and Iphie became exclusive, Tian-Gui had continued to work, growing more and more accustomed to doing what he did, except without a left arm. Flamestone constructions gave him the limb he needed when he fought, but for interviews, from press conferences that he attended alongside the others to one-on-one conversations with talk show hosts, he simply tied the sleeve down for his leftside stump and continued on as normal. No tricks, no gimmicks, no cybernetic gadgets to play with, no matter how many times Anfisa enticed him with gears that would augment his supernatural capabilities. It was a message, perhaps. Even with one arm missing, he was sufficient to safeguard Shanhu.

Not, of course, that there was no change at all.

Jin-Sun, the other armored combatant in the Final Five, would have noticed the transformation first, if only because Tian-Gui had sought him out for a couple of sparring sessions. Gone were the lion-headed pauldrons and the draconic headpiece; the Flamestone vestments that he clad himself with became sleeker and more angular, pushing for greater mobility and flexibility. More lessons learned versus the Thremonts: when he needed added durability, his ability to sense killing intent gave him more than enough time to build up Flamestone. When he didn’t need it, he could opt for his more mobile form, which soon became the standard on most missions.

Some internet denizens dubbed it ‘Rider Form’, compared to the ‘Mecha Form’ of the previous era. Others lamented that Tian-Gui had gone from gigachad to soycuck. The man himself didn’t care. Added mobility gave him more options.

And of course, that same mobility was what got him to the newly-constructed Fort Five on time to not keep the others waiting.

A draft of cold air blasted into the apartments as Tian-Gui entered from the patio, his armor dissolving into rust as he stepped in. The other members, sans Kyouko, were already present, and he smiled at some familiar faces. “Sorry for my lateness; had to deal with a couple incidents on my way here,” the blue-eyed man said. “Jin-Sun, Runa, hope y’all enjoyed what downtime you’ve got. And Iphie! Swear I see you more from the screens than in-person these days.” He patted John on the back as he passed by as well, before grabbing a pitcher of tea from the open-concept kitchen and pouring it out for the others. “Whatcha got for us, my guy?”

Turns out, a whole lotta stuff that Tian-Gui really didn’t have an opinion on. The armorer sounded useful for Jin-Sun and Iphie, the doctor would be a cool dude to have on their side if dealing with some special freak disease that’s messing up the general populace, and the bureaucrat was the sorta individual who’d be shouldering all the political headaches that another member of the Final Five’s support team would’ve. Ultimately though? Tian-Gui didn’t use weapons, he recovered from most wounds with a long rest, and he generally ended up chest-first through red tape like a sprinter. It wasn’t all too interesting for him, so instead, he simply co-oped Runa’s enthusiasm instead.

“Yeah, how’s the leads looking, John? Anything big enough that’d require the whole squad to get together again?”
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