"Huh." Linkle said, leaning back against the table as she watched Cuphead ascend up the hole with Jak and the newly freed Daxter. "You know, I always thought red eyed people hearing about this might react more...violently." She said with interest.
Once Linkle had started on her little explanation she hadn't really stopped. Galeem, spirits, friend hearts, how The lord of light and his hand minions could invade your mind if you still had red eyes and make you do stuff, how they planned to beat its butt and send everyone back home, even the uncomfortable revelation that being freed wasn't a permanent thing. "I was kinda hoping he'd go all weird and attack me or something! It'd be so much easier if the people I wanted free were trying to kill me. You can't just go around kicking people in the head, though. People start thinking you're crazy if you do that sort of thing." Linkle was speaking from experience. There was hardly a childhood bully or troublemaker in her village that hadn't ended up with one of young Linkle's boot-prints squarely on their keister. It was one heroic escapade her grandmother had not been thrilled by, mostly because it kept bringing disgruntled parents to their door.
She turned to Geralt. "Sorry this took a while. You must have been real confused for a little bit. I'm actually really surprised you came out of the control so clear headed. When I got free it was like waking up from a dream, I could hardly remember anything that had happened recently. Oh, speaking of!" She pulled her cloak around, running her finger around charred rim of the fresh burn holes the cigarette bats had put in it. "You wouldn't happen to know if Lumbridge has a expert tailor, would you?"
Seeing as there didn't seem to be anything left to do in the Casino, Linkle bid farewell to Pirouletta. "So long as this place is closed you could probably make some money up in Lumbridge. I know for a fact they appreciate dancers up there." There was no hint left of the girl that had threatened to feed the living roulette wheel to her pets, though the cucoos riding on her head and shoulders still promised retribution with their eyes. She didn't seem to notice the dissonance at all. "Well, take care of yourself. We'll probably be back eventually."
With that out of the way Linkle was free to jump up and grab on to one of the ropes handing down from the land of adventure. She went hand over hand, quickly propelling herself up into the busy guild hall.
After a few hours St. Lucifer's officially caught on to the fact that school was over for the day, and the dismissal bell sounded across the campus to tell anyone who had continued to stick around that they had better have a compelling reason to.
Bak took up her customary position by the school gate, seeing off the go-home club as they filed off campus back into their lives. Her clothes were scuffed and she stank vaguely of alchemical components but the most striking thing about her was the long white sheet she had clutched in one arm as her sewing needle went to work on it, in and out, in and out, shortening the thing by sewing ruffles into it.
"Are things always this much of a hassle around here?" Without prior announcing himself, Ward had joined Bak by the gate, leaning against one of the gate pillars. "Quite frankly, you look exhausted. Out of your depth, perhaps?"
Bak finished up the last of the first layer of ruffles and held the sheet out in front of her. The bottom half of it fell and piled on the the dusty ground. She would need to sew a few more. "Is unfortunate, but we have had some truant members last few days, and I am only really useful for blowing people up."
"And yet here you are taking charge." Ward observed. "There are three important traits for leadership. More, honestly, but three is good number for now. Will, inspiration, and foresight. The first is perhaps the rarest and most important. Nothing else much matters if you aren't willing to take action to begin with," he told her. "Then you must be able to inspire those beneath you. Whether it be loyalty or fear changes depending on the person, but it's usually one of those and both have been effective at times. Lastly, you need the foresight to make calculated decisions.
"You seem to have the first. You may even have the second. As for the third? Well I really can't say. But what I can say is that two out of three isn't terrible for someone who is 'only good at blowing people up'." He shrugged. "You're an interesting little group of people here, that's for certain."
"You must at least be interesting to be chosen for not-so-secret anymore evil organization." Bak said, stepping forward to bring her foot down on one of the flyers still littering the ground and scraping back to shred it into little pieces. Will, huh? He should have seen her last week. Or, maybe, right before he'd walked in on that meeting. "What is it that drew you to us? For all you are aware of we helped with big cult attack. Is what newspeople thought at first."
"Oh I've heard plenty of people blame you for the cult attacks. Many of them were very sure of themselves and made very convincing arguments," Ward told her with a smirk. "I just happen to know better. I believe I mentioned I've dealt with them before. Or at least my family has. Mind you, it's not impossible for one or two to be part of your school, but that's the theoretical extent of it. They loathe the gods, and last I checked a majority of you still happily get your powers from them. They think you're mindless sheep. Conversely, I think they're shortsighted fools."
He sighed and shook his head.
"Ah, but you asked what led me to you. I was intrigued by the nature of your group. I believe there is a great potential to get things done with you lot. You work with a distinct lack of red-tape or ethical quandaries. A focus on what needs doing is what is necessary with the situation facing us."
Bak huffed. The nerve of of the cult people. Sheep were cool, that should be a compliment. "Big cult talk man talked very big about hurting Tovarish's city. You know so much, who is this man and where is his house?"
"That... I do not know, I'm afraid," Ward told her. "Their goals and their beliefs I know of to a degree, based off of their actions and their whinging and bluster. Their true identities are closely guarded, however."
He then narrowed his eyes, "Listen to me well, Bak. I believe I mentioned I was not alone in coming to this city, so to speak. The other noble heirs of my country followed, and claim similar goals. Their motives are flawed, however. They seek glory and status solely whereas I have a more personal motive. My patron god of my family has anointed me as a jailor of sorts. The cult would see my prisoner freed in the hopes of a reward. They think that by serving demons they will have more choice in their fates. They fail to see that the price they'll pay in the end will leave them... wanting. The point being is that I have very personal stakes in this matter and I would see this cult banished for good. I would much enjoy a partnership with your council, barring a full membership. You've already faced them and survived and no higher authority would want to work with some foreign student... so that leaves me with you. I don't mean to suggest you're bottom of the barrel, but you remain my best and only option at present."
Bak closed her eyes and considered while the last of the St. Lucifer's students filed past. Finally he opened them and turned to Ward. "Tell to me one more thing: did you beat up Gabriel?"
"The boy with a bit too much to prove? Yes, I believe we did have an altercation." Ward shrugged. "And I suppose I won."
Bak nodded, stepping away from the wall. "He may not ever attend meeting, but he is nonetheless member of council. Even if he were just regular student I do not condone fighting in classroom. I do not think Tovarish would think such a thing was so wrong. She would think someone with knowledge and strength like you would be very useful and welcome you with open arms. Would probably laugh out loud at people serving demons. But this is not thing I can overlook."
She suddenly turned, reaching out around the corner and grasping something hidden just behind the school gate before bringing it forward to face Ward.
It was a push-broom that she extended to him, handle first.
"I do not think I will be able to punish you for this the usual way, not if you could beat him. But, if you would like our help and are willing to help us, you should make amends. Afternoon detention for fighting, cleaning up all these dumb flyers with me. Then we will make plans for destroying foolish cult, da?"
Ward's mouth fell open slightly. She wanted him to do... chores? His mouth opened and closed a few more times silently.
"But..." He began to make an excuse but then went quiet again. He'd been about to make an excuse like some sort of naughty child.
He let out a ragged sigh and took the broom, "You're very straightforward, aren't you?" He'd never say it out loud, but maybe he had learned something from Diana. His way of doing things was wasted on these people. He'd have to adapt. This strange girl who seemed as much gun as she was person might be his best chance to learn. "Very well. Amends it is. Then the cult."
Bak nodded happily, stomping around the gate and emerging with a pair of rolling trashcans clearly having been prepared for this purpose.
Matthew in all honesty wasn't entirely sure how long they'd been rolling on account of how he was able to disassociate behind the wheel, only rising up out of the vault of his own thoughts when he got his directions from Mira, stopped at an out of the way gas station when food or a bathroom break was demanded, and swapping out his drivers position whenever the need for sleep or the biting nausea of a headache became too much for him and he laid across the back seat letting the rumble of the engine carry him away to dreamland.
As for what he spent most of his time thinking about, it was a mix. Sometimes it was FOE, a slow burning fear that he felt blossoming into full blown paranoia with every car he stared down in the rear view mirror. As the full implications of his new life as a fugitive began to bear down on him he felt himself tense up every time he saw a car coming toward them in the other lane or heard one speeding up behind him, his foot jittering on the gas pedal in case he had to counter a pit maneuver or suddenly deal with a tire being shot out from under him. He was a wanted man. He was hunted. Maybe if they were just looking for him as a mage he'd be able to deal with it better.
But he was also a murderer.
He tried to keep his mind from going there but wherever his eyes wandered to the red and blue bands of string coiled around his wright wrist, so close together, he flashed back to the red spots blooming in the uniform of that cop. It was clear, too. His recollection was perfect, and though he'd spun away before he could see the end of it his imagination threw up helpful little suggestions for how the rest of that scene had played out. Of the guy flopping over, of a few wet coughs, of red soaking into the morning snow. One particularly frightful tableau even feature the centipede crawling over, fangs dripping, giving him a mercy that was anything but. After he'd thought up that one he'd had to pull over on the side of the road and spill his meager lunch onto the shoulder. Mira had taken over for the rest of that day.
By far the worst, though, was when his mind drifted back to his sister and whether this was just...life, now. Whether she lived like this every day.
Their journey had ended at a portal of swirling blue that made him sick just to look at. As he'd climbed out of the car looking a little worse than he had when he'd first entered he shouldered his bag, shielded his eyes from the light, and stepped through when instructed.
As the applause washed over the room Matthew felt himself get swept up in the collective relief of the room, clapping it up with the rest of them from his position in the back before letting out a sigh and rubbing his head with his palm. "Hahaha, seems like we were right on time. Look's like my delivery streak ain't broken yet." He smiled at Jan and Mira. It was the most jovial he'd seemed since they'd started their journey. It was amazing what a promise of safety and showers could do for a mans mood, but more than that he now had something else to think about.
The Violet Underground. A safe haven for mages of all shapes and sizes. He'd read rumors on the in internet about stuff like this, but whenever he'd imagine it it had always been people huddling in basements or meeting in the smokey backroom of a KFC. He didn't think they would be able to occupy a building like this, much less under the FOEs nose. Either these guys were much better at hiding mages than he'd imagined or the FOE wasn't nearly as omnipresent as he'd feared. Either gave him hope/
"Pretty niffy set up, don't you think?" he said to no one in particular. "I mean, when you're talking about places to hide out during a crisis the mall's a classic for a reason." He scowled slightly. "Oh please, god, don't let there be any graffiti."
Penny set the book down and rummaged through her bag, pushing past a canteen, a towel, a woefully underused bottle of sunscreen, and a few old hard bitten paperbacks to try and find where her wallet had settled at. As she did she listened to he bearded man sell this board game to his other prospective customer. Boy, could that guy talk. It was like a lecture on the finer points of leading an army and how best to use your soldiers skills to your advantage. It reminded her of the way her Sensei talked, taking the stress out of conversation by making it so she was really only a bit part in the conversation. It was comforting, she felt like she could get along with this guy. He was just getting to the part about the Diamond Duke of Dorn and his ability to block off four whole spaces with an impassible wall when she finally found her wallet and pulled out two tens from it. "Uhhhhh, can I get a copy of that game to?"
Penny didn't know why she'd bought it, and if she'd known how big it was she probably wouldn't have. She walked away with the book of Otterholt Legends tucked safely in her bag and a long tower like box under her other arm, feeling awfully conspicuous and not a little bit stupid for spending over twenty bucks on something "Fun for up to Twelve Players." This was the travel version too, the home game apparently came with a miniature 3D printer so you could scan any knight cards you drew and get a little miniature to play with. She at least fully understood why she'd wanted the book, especially after he'd mentioned it covered the old living graffiti rumors. She'd been interested in that stuff ever since she'd seen an Insight Unknown episode about a pizza guy that claimed he'd been hunted by a giant centipede which had pulled itself right off a wall. If she had to guess what had drawn her to the game if was the idea of drawing Knights that could reliably do their jobs. Maybe she could convince mom and dad that playing this was also a way to develop her Kingly attributes.
As she turned to head back to the hotel she noticed the steps leading down the beach had been gummed up a little with tourists of all shapes and sizes, looking at something with a sort of nervous herd energy that was infectious even from here. That was probably none of her business. Probably.
She checked anyway, stepping around the side of the group and placing her box on one of the wooden guardrail's designed to discourage people from climbing all over the dunes before hopping up and sitting beside it. She could see the cause of the congestion from here, a dude built like a bear with features chiseled from solid stone was helping up some girl. Not wanting to be thought of as some gawker she cast her eyes down the beach, past the girl getting chewed out by a woman that screamed "teacher" from stance alone and the volleyball bros, all the way down to the children gathered excitedly by the shore. From where she was the people noise on the beach practically blended together into one tone, joining up with the wind and waves to become just another sound.
"Hmmm. This spot's not bad." She said. Then the girl that the teacher was scolding started speaking, the occasional word rising out of the mire to be distinctly human through the power of her voice. "'Cept for her."
You could just find you lost your wallet or phone and retrace your steps looking for where it might have fallen out of your pocket. Nothing wrong with an early morning race, after all.
Linkle had never seen one of the pre-war whatevers the Courier spoke of as he marched off to get patched up by Blazermate, and for that she felt a pang of jealousy. The closest thing she had to compare these strange stretchy squashing people to was the color. Not in how they made her feel, even seeing something like Cuphead effortless lift off and tip his own head to her hadn’t been anything other than delightful and amazing, but in how unreal they were. The way Pirouletta had moved during their fight, the way King Dice’s face had contorted despite seeming solid, the way this boy in front of her was able to change the shape of his eyes, sometimes they were less like people and more like water bound up into shapes.
She kind of loved it.
“Thanks for the help.” she said to Cuphead, walking over to one of the tables the robot had flipped over in its rampage against The Power , its cards and chips scattered all over the floor around, and righted it with one hand. “I’m Linkle. I’ve never really questioned somebody before, but...he was just so weird. And then he just up and left.” She grabbed one of the high backed chairs and slid it to the table, patting the red cushion while looking at Cuphead expectantly before plopping Pirouletta onto the plush green center of the table. On the ground cucoos circled like sharks. Linkle herself leaned down, elbows on the tables. “All right Miss Pirouletta. Tell me everything you know about your boss.”
To say Geralt was surprised by the recent developments would be an understatement. He simply couldn’t have expected any of what happened. He was still fumbling around in the dark, and by the time he’d gotten himself up and dusted himself off, new developments were still happening. The reinforcements, the other dark-robed person of seemingly great power, and the fact that apparently this group of misfit heroes was even bigger. Oh joy, more people to be a royal pain in his ass. At least they couldn’t be worse than Dandelion.
Geralt followed Linkle, figuring he could at least be of help for an interrogation. It certainly wouldn’t be the first one he’d done, as well. He stood before their prey and crossed his arms. “Don’t forget the little details, either.” He said with a sneer.
Peach drew up alongside him, quietly menacing in her own way.
The little gizmo looked thoroughly unhappy. With all of these people around, there didn’t seem to be any chance of non-cooperation. Any of them could probably wallop her soundly, most likely without even using their abilities, and she knew that Cuphead could from firsthand experience. So her choice of action seemed pretty obvious.
“After big light explosion, casino and islands still here, same as before. But pretty soon new people come, all sorts we never see before. Boss was thrilled, and Devil too, but then come storm. I never see what happen outside, but I hear lightning, chaos, horrible shrieks. Devil go out to deal with it, but all that comes back is spirit, carried by boss. Things get back to normal, but boss sad and angry. After time he disappear, gone for while, then he come back in black coat. After that he only come sometimes, and he always acted different, trying to be like before. Seemed like he had new job. Instead casino run by manager, who only come by once to leave lackey in charge. Manager never say name, but lackey is called Moneybags. Probably at hotel.”
Cuphead listened while bopping his head up and down in his seat. Once she finished, he thought over the words. ”Golly, if someone walloped the devil hard enough to make him a spirit, I can imagine why Dice would have a case of the moody blues! I don’t know nuthin’ ‘bout no storm though. Muggy and I live waaaaay on the other end of Inkwell Isle. Never heard of this Moneybags goon neither.”
As if on cue the doors to the devil’s casino burst open again, pushing back a couple of the patrons on their way out, whose number by now had dwindled almost to zero. “Oh, the humanity! Everything’s in terrible disarray! The absolute state of it…!” he cried. Portly but well-dressed, he appeared to be some sort of animal-person, maybe a bear. With an outraged and indignant look on his face the suited fellow bustled over to the largest gathering of newcomers, which included the interrogation committee, Peach, and the Houndmaster nearby. “I say! Who in blazes are you all? What is the meaning of this disaster?” He stared, wide-eyed, at the hole in the ceiling and the general movement through it. “And what happened to my poor casino?!”
Linkle looked up as the talking bear burst through the door, not really impressed. Talking bears got less impressive after the first one. “King Dice did it.” she said, pointing down at Pirouletta. “Ask her.”
Moneybags looked confused. All his indignity had nowhere to go. “King Dice? The old manager? That scoundrel! I’ll give him a piece of my mind!” As prompted, he asked Pirouletta, bending down to shake his fist at her. “Is he here?”
Pirouletta shook her head. “No. He went away.”
“Blast!” Thoroughly irritated, Moneybags looked around. “This place will take a fortune to fix up. And how am I supposed to run it with a...a hole in the ceiling?”
The Houndmaster walked over. “You are not supposed to run it. Gneidxick...or Dice, or the Guildmaster, or whoever he is, is a wanted criminal. He appears to have absconded, but until such time as we have searched the premises this establishment’s operation is halted.”
Moneybags leered at the smaller man. “Who are you supposed to be, who can tell me how to run my casino?”
“The sherriff of Lumbridge,” the Houndmaster said, crossing his arms. His wolfhound padded over, baring her teeth at Moneybags. “Are you at odds with the law, Mr. Moneybags?”
“Police?” The bear leaned back, looking alarmed. “Er, no! Not at all! Everything perfectly legal here, yes sir.” With obvious fear he glanced at the wolfhound. “Nice...doggy?”
“In that case, once we confirm that this institution represents no illegality, nor threat to Lumbridge or its denizens, its operation may resume. You may even discover your business fomented by this unnatural connection.”
“‘Fomented’, eh?” Moneybags weighed his options, clearly swayed by the possibility of more profits. “Well then, by all means, search away. You shall have my full support. Perhaps I could negotiate some help to deal with this mess.” He took another look around and for the first time noticed the robot pillaging his casino floor. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Hey, you! Stop that!” He ran a few steps before having to stop, huffing wildly. Instead he shook his fist at the robot. “That’s...my...property!”
“Is it?” Linkle asked, looking around to the others as the bear ran off. “I mean, it’d be the manager's stuff right?”
Gaige-Tron stopped in its single-wheeled tracks as the well dressed bear started yelling at it. “Uuuuh….” a few poker chips fell to the floor, then it quickly stuffed some in its chest cavity. “These are being taken for the investigation!” The robot then wheeled off in a hurry. Cuphead couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
“That’s…! Uuuuugh.” Moneybags groaned, realizing that he couldn’t object without contradicting what he said earlier. He sighed and turned towards Linkle. “Well, my employer’s not here right now, is he? We never signed any contracts. I just went along with him to get my foot in the door. If I sow the seeds, I eat the bread.” He patted his chest, looking proud. “Besides, he was beyond arrogant. Always strutting around in that checkered suit, surrounded by suck-ups, going on about this and that. Any man with a lick of sense would strike out on his own.”
”Golly gee, that sure sounds like King Dice alright!” Cuphead added, punching his open palm. ”A real class act! The bee’s knees of sleaze! Are you folks sure he was behaving strange?” He looked more at Pirouletta for confirmation.
Pirouletta looked at him like he was stupid. “Da. Fat man says checker suit. Boss wears purple, always.”
“Why, you…! Have some respect!”
Cuphead gasped, his arms flailing around like limp noodles, completely devoid of bones, and his straw turning into an exclamation point. ”Why I outta!” he pulled off the glove on his left hand (revealing his hand to be a slightly smaller glove) and slapped the casino goon across the face with it before putting it back on. ”She’s right though… King Dice ALWAYS wears purple!”
Linkle thought for a moment, frowning. “I was sure the new manager would have been a lady.”“ At least, that’s what she’d guessed considering who the others said had come and taken him away. “If King Dice was always such a bad guy then what I found weird about him isn’t too weird I guess, but still.” She looked Pirouletta right in the eye. “This might seem like a strange question, but did you notice King Dice’s eyes ever change colors? Or, did he ever give anything like a heart to you and your friends?”
Confused, Pirouletta shook her head. “Boss eyes...uh, green. Never give us heart.”
“Did he ever do anything else to you guys? Something that seemed weird to you?” Linkle continued. “Anything at all.”
“Er…” The strange line of questioning clearly confounded the dancer, but after a moment something did seem to occur to her. “One time, after he come back there was blackout in casino. Most of us sleeping when it happened, but we all get weird dreams. But nothing happen after.”
Of all the things that had been said, that caught Geralt’s attention. Sudden infliction of strange dreams? He could work with that. Cutting in, he questioned the dancer. “Did you all have the same dream? What happened in it?”
“Yeah.” Linkle said, nodding eagerly. She knew about this from the Legends. “Dreams can be super important.”
”I once dreamed that I was a water bottle,” Cuphead cut in, offering essentially nothing of value.
Pirouletta ignored him. “Dream was...dark. Just darkness. But there was something in the dark. Big. Everywhere. Moving. Could not tell what it was.” She shuddered.
“Hmm.” Geralt mused. That was both helpful and unhelpful at the same time. “Nothing else? Just...darkness, moving around, everywhere? Not even a pinprick of light?”
Pirouletta shook her head. “Some colors in the dark, here and there, but no light. Mostly...pink?”
Linkle, for the first time, thought back to the wave of darkness that had swept out of Peach’s castle and seemingly freed everyone it touched. It didn’t seem right, everything she’d ever heard was fighting against the idea, but could this darkness be some kind of positive thing? The thought of pink being mixed into it, the same color as a certain friend shaped little savior, only made that impression stronger. “That might have been it. The one that brought everyone here is the lord of light, so maybe dark is good? Dark has helped us out before.” She growled, shaking her head. “No, I still don’t get why he attacked us then.”
Moneybags laughed as though Linkle said something silly. “Pff, hohoho! Not a chance. Money is good, not dark.”
The Houndmaster looked a lot more serious. He spoke from experience. “I cannot say. A creeping gloom can be every bit as maleficent as a baleful luminosity. The dream she speaks of...a vision of an eldritch abyss. It is most worrisome.”
“I’d agree, but it free-,” Linkle stopped, looking around the table. Cuphead, Moneybags, the Sheriff, they were just like Din. Even if she explained they wouldn't get it. The only ones that would understand were Geralt and Pirouletta. “Maybe I’m thinking too hard. Ummm, do you have any idea why your boss would go and get a job as guildmaster? Actually,” she looked up at the Sheriff. “How long was he the guildmaster for? How did he get the job?”
The Houndmaster scratched his dog. “I arrived after he did, in actuality. It was my belief that he was with Lumbridge since its early days. Several months, at least. As for how, I suppose he just wanted the job. Demand always outpaces supply in Lumbridge, and the Guildmarm required aid.”
Linkle stared at the man. What the man had said hadn’t been very helpful, save for pretty much confirming what King Dice’s new job had been. A single word he’d used, though, threw her for a loop. “Months?” She asked, more to herself than anyone else. That was way longer than it felt like she’d been in this world. She’d never really given it much thought, she’d just assumed that this whole thing was fairly recent on account that she could remember at most three and a half days. What in Hylia’s name had she been up to for months?
“Uhhhh...I can’t think of anything else to ask.” She said slowly, trying to take her mind off that. “Anybody else have anything?”
The Houndmaster exhaled. “No. Regrettably this did not yield any revelations. Regardless I am pleased that force went unneeded.”
”Most of this is going over my head.” Cuphead’s, well, cup head popped off and did a flip before landing back in place. ”But golly gee, I’m super keen to be getting that mean ol’ King Dice back. He may be an untrustworthy weasel, but he’s our weasel by gum! I’ll stick with ya as long as I can help!”
Peach nodded to him. “We’ll be happy to have you.” She then panned over the group in general. “Things just got a little more complicated. It looks like there’s another major faction at work, one with some sort of affinity for darkness. One member, Gneidxick, established himself in an important position in the Land of Adventure’s only permanent fixture. There’s someone named King Dice, who he seemed to be trying to impersonate. He attacked us, but it seems like he did it as part of an act, pretending to be King Dice. Someone else from his faction appeared and stopped him, berating him for doing so. It seems like the darkness is somehow linked to freeing people from Galeem’s influence, which makes sense…” she squinted. “Sort of...given what the Master of Masters said about Galeem’s light binding hearts.”
Moneybags looked flabbergasted. “Goodness. I haven’t the slightest what you’re going on about, but it seems highly convoluted.”
Linkle just nodded. “One more thing to keep a lookout for.” She needed one of those wrist things like the Courier had to keep track of all the things she had to look out for. She never thought she’d have enough to need a list.
“Yeah,” Peach said, rubbing her temples. “I bet it’s only going to get weirder.”
”Hey toots, recognize me? I wouldn’t be offended if you said no on account of how I’M A FREAKING TREE NOW! So if you would be so kind, please GET THIS TREE OUT OF ME!”
The princess noticed, and closed her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, as if trying to keep herself from losing it. “Yeah, alright.” Shrugging apologetically at the others, she reached down and jammed her hand into Daxter’s chest. When she pulled it out, he shrunk in a burst of multicolored light and became his old self. The Ent spirit she placed in Jak’s waiting, eager hand.
You have Acquired: Sporebloom A mode for the Morphgun that turns it into a shotgun that pumps out high-power, short-range bursts of rot. It does not have to be reloaded between each shot, and has 21 shots total, requiring a lot of Red Eco to be replenished. It comes equipped with the Spore Shot mod, which builds up a ‘super’ as the gun inflicts damage that can be spent to unleash an arcing glob that creates a cloud of gas in an area that inflicts Root Rot. Any built-up ‘‘super’ is lost if the Morphgun’s mode is switched
It wasn’t a moment after the spirit had been wrenched from the little weasel and he was no longer more tumbleweed than mammal that Linkle had scooped him up and hugged him to her chest. Her hands had been full when she’d seen Donnie. Blazermate had been too far away. Daxter was close enough to grab and small enough to lift. “I’m so happy you guys are all alright. You must have run into some really weird stuff out there if you’re turning into ghosts and plants.” If she was being honest, she’d assumed the worst when the pair had suddenly flown down. At least until Jak turned back to normal.
Geralt mostly followed along with Peach’s summary of events, but he got stuck on something towards the end. “Wait a second,” He called out, “who’s this Galeem? What’s he doing to people?”
“You remember that bright light you saw just before you appeared in this world? That was Galeem.” Linkle answered, pointing one finger up. “It’s the sun here.”
As Linkle threw her cloak back on and refastened it with one hand she reflected on how relived she was to see that Blazermate was okay too. So long as she was still around it was super unlikely that anyone else had gone down in the dead zone. In fact she'd overheard a lot of stuff that answered a few of her lingering questions, such as where their mysterious guild master had gone off too and that there was somebody in the room that had battled him before. So, seemingly free of the obligation she'd put on herself to go save the people in the Dead Zone she focused entirely on the current problem and that meant staying down here for a little while longer.
"Hey." she said, approach where the Courier was having his little pow-wow with the cup headed guy, stopping momentarily to gawk at the big tv faced robot. She tilted her head curiously. "Have we met?" she asked it.
"Wait, I shouldn't get distracted." she said, shaking her head and turning back to the cup head. He certainly looked like he belonged to whatever weird noodle like species the guild-master belonged too. "You know that dice headed guy? I"M asking because, look." Linkle proudly held Pirouletta up to the Courier, Gaige-Tron, and Cuphead. "I captured one of his friends, so I was hoping you'd be able to tell us if she's lying when we ask her some questions."
Penny, not for the first time this morning, looked up in irritation from her book as some kids charged past on their way out to that raft and signed. Between them, the sporty volleyball going on, and the classic rock tunes drifting over the dunes she could barely appreciate the calm quiet she'd come out here to get. "Geeze, it's your vacation." she muttered to no one in particular, placing a bookmark in the small tome of old fairy stories she'd been reading and snapping it closed. "Can't you guys afford to sleep in a little?"
Of course, Penny had been out here since six so she had no room to talk. She'd risen early on her second day here at the resort after spending most of the previous day relaxing on her balcony, packing her essentials and heading down to the beach to flop down in a chair and enjoy the sounds of the wind and waves as she watched the sun rise over the water. She'd spent over thirty minutes smiling dreamily as she basked in the quiet, the only motion to break the stillness being the movement of the earth itself. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Then the shopkeepers arrived and started setting up the market stalls, and the zen place she had been in vanished like a mirage in the bustle of activity.
She got up off the chair, stretching out as her ankle length black skirt ruffled in the soft sea breeze. It wouldn't be long now, she thought, before the beach was unbearably full. She grabbed her long brown coat and threw it over her shoulders like a cape, it being so warm now that the sun was out that she couldn't justify buttoning it up over the sleeveless white blouse she had on. It had gotten her an odd look or two from the volleyball boys as they'd filed in, but what did they know? It had been kind of chilly this morning. Besides, she had sandals on and that was the be all end all definition of beachwear. You never wore sandals if you weren't on the beach. She threw her book in her bag and threw it's strap over her shoulder to make her way off the each.
On her way up the beach she passed a young girl building a sandcastle that waved her small pink shovel as Penny passed by, eliciting a grimace from her and a quick turn of the head to focus somewhere else. Maybe that was really what was bugging her, that she really did have something she needed to do today. Later this afternoon was that sandcastle contest, and her guts twisted themselves into knots with dread over the fun activity that she had signed up for every time she was reminded of it.
She made her way through the mini bazaar that had been set up on the beach looking around for something to distract her when her eyes landed on Diversion, her eyes sliding instantly off the bearded man who manned the stall and onto the stand of soft cover books her had for sale. Interested, she approached and lifted a few titles off to take a closer look before finding one with an appropriately macabre cover and opening it. Beach's like this usually had at least one or two real ghost stories and and whole horde of embellished ones. It was something about the ocean she guessed. There was always a captains wife, or a ghost ship, or buried pirate treasure being guarded by hideous specters, something guest could tell stories about when the beach was dark and spoky. If you were lucky there could even be a local sea monster. "Hey?" she said, closing the book and holding it up. "How much."
Lugubrious
Izurich
Yankee
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