Lugubrious

World of Light

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Location: Sandswept Sky - Apex of the World
Level 9 Tora (142/90) Level 9 Poppi (142/90) Level 5 Big Band (85/50)
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, the Scout, Peacock, Mao, Robin, Tharja, Ciella
Word Count: 886

After soaring above Phalanx, Tora and Poppi could get their first really good look at the creature while a number of their allies cruised in for a landing. In the span of just a few moments, the big blue yonder had filled with heroes–or at least, a very small subjection of it, anyway. In addition to the dynamic driver-blade duo, Sectonia, Big Band, Peacock, and all the Phantom Thieves (minus Mona, who would be ascending fashionably late after a quick pep talk with Raz) had taken to the skies in search of a way to bring the airborne colossus down. That, rather than any kind of actual threat, seemed to be the main issue. Although Phalanx made its objections clear with vigorous shakes once boarded, it had yet to attack in any fashion.

The lack of hostility left Tora perplexed. Raising his voice above the wind, he asked, “Why it not fight back? Everything fight back in world of light, right?”

“Maybe bosses exception,” Poppi hazarded a guess. “Or maybe we not actual inflict damage yet?”

Though full of energy and eager to get their hands dirty in this climactic mountaintop fight, Tora and Poppi remained aloft for a few moments longer, trying to figure out a plan of attack. The others’ search continued pretty much fruitlessly, for no matter how much they pummeled, pried, shot, or scorched the creature’s body, none of it seemed to matter. Ciella seemed to be aiming for its eyes, judging the trajectory of her charged water arrows, but given the circumstances hers were some very difficult shots to make. When the thieves took a crack at the eyes themselves, they quickly realized they couldn’t get a clear shot from atop Phalanx, and if they jumped off to use their gliders the colossus would leave them behind in an instant. With the lingering blessing of flight, falling posed little threat, but if left behind the Seekers would have to wait quite some time for another pass at their high-speed adversary.

It was Midna who cracked the case. Thanks to a combination of magical sense, experience, and luck, she managed to spot an unusual glowing glyph hidden beneath a fin atop the creature’s back as she tumbled free into the sky. As Tora and Poppi flew in, they just managed to hear their friend’s words of wisdom on the wind. “Meeeh!” the Nopon exclaimed. “Why Tora not realize it sooner!? This classic stuff!” He extended a wing, pointing down at the sigil Midna spotted like a hero. “Okay, Poppi! All power to thrusters!”

“Roger, roger!”

The two boosted off in hot pursuit, but they weren’t the only ones to hear the Twilight Princess’s advice. Sectonia beat them to the punch, using her aerial expertise and her blinking to circumvent as much wind pressure as she could as she chased the weak spot down. Once there the insect queen mustered her strength and plunged her blades into the runic flesh, as hard and as many times as she could.

Jets of black smoke burst from the stab wounds, and Phalanx screeched. It banked hard enough to jerk Fox and Panther from their handholds, then began to roll. In a desperate attempt to get its assailants off its back, fueled by the agony of its grievous injury, the colossus pulled off a corkscrew maneuver of epic proportions. Sectonia got dislodged and hurled away, and while she could take a few moments to bask in her victory, Tora and Poppi needed to fight to keep up. After putting her thrusters on full blast and having her Masterpon hold on by her ankles, the artificial blade managed to grab onto a prominent ridge in one of Phalanx’s fins. It tested them both, but in the end mechanical might won out, and not just for the two of them.

Farther back, both Big Band and Peacock managed to maintain their hold until Phalanx finally straightened out. “Whew!” the detective exhaled. “Y’know, I wish I could have grandkids, just so I can sit ‘em down and tell ‘em this story, someday.”

“Whatever ya say, old timer!” Peacock handwaved, popping up from a portable hole by fin number two. It seemed to be sealed tight down around the sigil, protecting it like a shield. Andy Anvil and Tommy Ten Tons appeared, but the both of them together couldn’t pry it off. “You quit on me now, you’re dead weights, ya hear me?” the living weapon threatened, but even with that encouragement her cohorts couldn’t budge it, forcing her to look to her elder. “Here, gimme a hand with this thing, wouldja?”

“Ain’t no thing.” Big Band stepped in with brass arms deployed. His pneumatic might did the trick, and in just a few seconds the glyph was easy pickings.

Peacock stepped over it, revolver at the ready. “Reach for the sky!” At a pull of the trigger a giant black blade popped out, it’s gleeful grin only outdone by Peacock’s own. “Yah!” With a grunt she drove the blade in, then hammered the trigger to empty the chambers, splitting five bullets in half on the blade to carve deeper into Phalanx’s weak spot. The colossus shrieked, and the rodeo began anew, stronger and fiercer even than last time.

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Skeleton, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Snowdin
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Papyrus’ @Dark Cloud

In the comfort of the little home’s cozy parlor and the white tiger’s gracious hospitality, both the cold and the stress that clung to the five began to melt away. Even for a Snowdin household, it really was toasty in here, enough to be a little soporific. Barely had Albedo seated himself before he rose again, headed for the coat closet he didn’t think he needed to use. Most of the tiny room seemed to be occupied by what looked like a puffy yellow snow suit, but he managed to hang his coat up alongside it. When he returned he stopped short of the couch, averse to getting into anyone’s personal space again, and stood by with his arms crossed. As Dromarch gingerly -and rather painstakingly, given his lack of opposable thumbs- prepared their refreshments, Frisk sparked up a conversation in front of the blazing hearth, and the alchemist listened in silence.

It proved mildly interesting to hear the child rediscover, bit by bit, the way this bizarre world worked. Its mechanics lay in stark contrast to the state of affairs in Frisk’s home, or so a little reading between the lines would imply, but for better or for worse, they seemed to be both making sense of and coming to terms with it. What Frisk said about luck stood out to him; although not a particularly pious person, Albedo did consider it to be something of a miracle that day-to-day life in the World of Light seemed mostly stable, given the sheer scale upon which worlds were colliding. This hodgepodge reality could just have easily been complete and utter chaos, an indecipherable maelstrom of various places, forces, and phenomena in which no living being could endure, but its creator Galeem seemed to have sewn this tapestry together with logic in mind. But how? And why? It made for a conundrum as intimidating as it was fascinating. It might be nice in here, but the truth was out there. Albedo ended up staring impassively out the window as the fallen child and the silly skeleton traded words.

After their exchange, Treat was surprised to find herself on the receiving end of a most generous offer from Papyrus. “O-oh,” she stammered, suddenly filled with anxiety. “I…I…well, uh, I mean, thank you. You’re way too kind, I really just, don’t deserve it. But I just don’t know…”

She trailed off weakly, unable to articulate her thoughts, although at the very least her reticence showed on her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Papyrus or anything, but did she want to live with him? Aside from him being a guy, and aside from him being a slightly creepy skeleton, she’d already gotten an idea of his exclamatory, goofy, over-the-top, larger-than-life nature, and Treat didn’t know if she could deal with that energy. When Albedo and Linkle mentioned living somewhere else she assumed they meant a different empty house, not cohabitation! If she was going to be living with someone else, whoever it was needed to be a lot more chill and normal than Papyrus, as bad as that conclusion made her feel.

Eventually the chitchat pivoted toward magic. Linkle had a lot of insight to offer on the subject, and after a few words on spirits in general, covered both her inherent talents and those gained through fusion. The Skullgirl’s testimony about the source of her cryomancy, as well as the lack of a Vision on her person, helped to put the nail on the coffin of a worrisome hypothesis that first arose when Albedo noticed the bright blue of her hair when fighting. While not particularly close to the Spindrift Knight Eula, it would have pained him to find out that she died, when she could instead be living free of the scorn heaped upon her Lawrence lineage, somewhere in the world.

When his turn came around, he swallowed, and replied in brief. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to say on the subject. In my world, humans are able to manipulate the elements through the use of Visions. This one is mine.” He held up an amber gemstone inlaid in a winged metal talisman, a geometric pattern shining in its center. “Although, it’s really nothing more than a tool to aid in my experiments, no different from a beaker or crucible. The one thing about it that really intrigues me is the principle behind how it works... One day, I will uncover its secrets, it's only a matter of time.” With nothing else to say, he drew quiet once more.

Once Dromarch delivered everyone’s drinks, he stalked down the hall toward the house’s rear, where he rapped upon a door with his paw. “My lady? Excuse me. We have guests in need of your expertise, if you would be so kind.”

“Eh?” a girl’s voice came in reply. “Oh, sure, sure, I’ll be out in jost a sec.”

True to her word, the healer came right out, but if the newcomers had been expecting a noblewoman befitting Dromarch’s regal treatment they were in for a surprise. A head of dusty gray hair topped by side-turned cat ears poked around the corner, with curious dark yellow eyes just below, and the next moment their owner appeared. Nia was short and thin even for a teenager, cozy a a set of plaid yellow, green, and black pajamas, her unkempt hair not even tied into their customary bundles. As much as she’d been enjoying an afternoon spent reading in bed, however, she greeted her customers with bright eyes and a genial smile.

Dromarch followed her, looking mollified. “My lady, are you quite sure you’re ready? This is most undignified…”

“Aw, no need to stand on ceremony, eh Dromarch?” she told him in a pronounced Welsh accent. “We’re all friends yure, or will be soon enough–ahem! Heya guys,” she greeted the five with a little wave. “So, ‘oo’s our lucky sufferer what needs some ‘ealin’?”

For a moment Treat seemed somewhat dumbstruck, staring with wide eyes at Nia. Albedo cleared his throat. “Treat here has a sprained ankle,” he replied for her, indicating the wolfgirl with his hand.

“Huh, that all?” Nia zeroed in on Treat, but received no response. “Ya alright there? Well, doncha worry, we’ll ‘ave ya patched up before ya find your tongue again.” In just a moment she retrieved the ringblades, and with one in each hand she performed a very short dance. It ended with rings on one upheld arm, spun around her wrist like hula hoops, and from the weapons waves of bright green ether washed across the parlor. Just like that, the wolfgirl was healed.

Treat’s face was one of astonishment as her healer tossed up and caught her ringblades. “Wow, that’s all it takes?” she gasped. “That’s incredible!”

Although she brushed off the praise with a shrug, Nia didn’t bother to hide her grin. “Ah, that’s nothin’. Just glad to help, an’ all.”

It took only a moment for Treat’s elation to turn to misgiving. “Uh, s-so, what do I owe you?” She looked down at the floor. “I-I know I probably shouldn’t have asked you, you being a catgirl and all, so if it’s extra I understand.”

“Eh!?” Nia looked genuinely confused. “A cat…? You mean me? I’ll ‘ave ya know I’m Gormotti, but wot’s that ‘ave to do with anythin’?”

“Ohh…” Ears drooping, Treat looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. “W-well, you know, ‘cause I’m a…a wolfgirl?”

Nia scratched her head, looking at Dromarch and then back again. “I mean, yeah, but…oh, oh! D’ya mean, like, the thing with dogs an’ cats? Pff!” Shaking her head, she crossed her arms. “Well, ya en’t a dog, and I sure en’t a cat. I don’t know where ya gettin’ these funny ideas, but all that matters is that ya needed my ‘elp. Doesn’t matter what ears ya got, or if ya don’t even got ears,” she nodded at Papyrus. “Anyone oo’ stops by our ‘ouse is gonna leave feelin’ better on the way out.”

Although the moment got a little awkward, particularly with so many bystanders around, Nia managed to turn it in a direction Albedo felt pretty good about. For most people, one’s animal features made little to no difference. It was just the same back in Mondstadt, with the Kätzlein. It was high time Treat stopped dwelling on the bad people and see the good in the rest of them.

World of Light

Ms Fortune

Location: Carcass Isle - Where All Things Must Come
Level 8 Nadia (21/80)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Hat Kid’s @Dawnrider, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 2569

For a long moment Nadia stood stock-still atop the roof of her briny, tar-splattered hovel, trying to get herself under control. It came as no surprise that even taking aim with her strange, plasticky firearm she’d been given was a challenge. It extended backward rather than forward, with a tall, heavy body and a large stock, but no forestock or handguard of any kind. The best plan she could come up with was holding the grip with both hands like a fishing rod in front of her, and extending her neck muscles high enough that she could look down the sights.

Of course, the logistics of using the gun was only the tip of the iceberg. Her limbs felt like lead, and perhaps due to the constant and oftentimes external exertion on her muscle fibers, her best efforts couldn’t prevent a bothersome twitch. Her nerves were shot, and not just from all the physical duress she’d undergone. As numb as she’d gotten in recent times, the sight of her beloved Fishbone Gang shook her more than she could describe, reopening the one wound that never quite healed. It would be a while before she could wrap her head around what she saw in that all-too-brief moment, as taunting and ephemeral as a long-forgotten dream, but in a way…it was enough. Nadia didn’t need any scientific explanation or therapeutic soul-searching to know that her family was watching over her. That even if she couldn’t see them, they were right here with her, holding her up and guiding her hand. And that gave her the strength to carry on.

Dimly Nadia was aware of other visitations across the beach, other haunting glimpses of bygone souls offering much-needed relief to her teammates in their hour of need, but she did not dwell on them. As far as she was concerned, these precious memories were private, and none of her business. Instead the feral steeled herself at last, flashed open sea-blue eyes, flattened her ears, bared her fangs, and with her bizarre handgun as well-aimed as it was going to get, squeezed tight. Dutifully the weapon sprang into action, condensing her oceanid blood into bullets that it then launched via magnetic propulsion. “Have a taste of your own medicine!” she cried as her weaponized blood streaked through the air, more than happy to pay the Orphan back in kind for the bloody devastation it had wrought.

Nadia’s visceral charge shots joined their strength to the bombardment of cannon fire and sniper support that had been both whittling away at the giant BT and shooting down its attempts to return fire. None of the Gas Bags withstood more than a single shot from anything, instead bursting like the balloons they so resembled before they could plant themselves like mines in the tarry battlefield the accursed beach had become. The heroes’ ghastly pursuit by golden BT’s warranted more urgency, and though the lustrous fiends managed a couple close calls, they failed to drag anyone down into the muck. As more and more of the Seekers received aid from their phantoms, replenishing not just arsenals but bodies and souls, the cannonade turned into a withering deluge of steel, lead, bombs, flame, electricity, sound, shadow, and blood. Thanks to Blazermate’s healing even Peach could lend a hand, and though she couldn’t blast out railgun shots or deploy bombers like Bella, she had a trick or two of her own. Mr. Grimm’s revolver sent forth screaming spirits of the restless dead to home in on the BT’s blood-drunk heart alongside the Medabot’s purgatory ghosts, where all three specters collided with explosive results.

Working together, the team piled on the damage while keeping one another safe from the hazards that the BT spat back out at them. The punishment culminated in an uproarious fireball from Ace’s alchemy barrel, almost bright as the sun in the stormy dark of the shoreline. Its explosion ruptured the heart in a burst of nauseating, necrotic slime, and with an abysmal moan the eidolon recoiled. Its strands flailed like streamers from the tips of its stricken arms as it took a half-step back, and despite all that ailed her Nadia found herself wearing a gleeful grin. “We’re making progress!” she called out to encourage the others, but by now the feral knew better than to celebrate prematurely. “Just keep your guard up!”

Right on cue, the odious collapsed eyeball slid shut, and began to recede into the BT’s chest. In the span of a second the organ disappeared, and the patch of golden crystal began to slide across the nightmare’s tarry skin. It moved upward and around, coming to rest on BT’s left shoulder, where after another moment the mutilated eye protruded once more. Nadia couldn’t help but let out a wry chuckle. It was such a simple move, but on such a large scale it meant that most if not all the Seekers couldn’t hit that weak spot any more. Not from their current positions, at least. Luckily, the problem had an equally simple solution. As Nadia lowered her gun and prepared to move, though, she realized exactly what was going on. The beach was shifting again, and in a big way. Almost everything that lay above the surface had already begun to sink below, while new fragments pushed up elsewhere. The scraps of shipwreck and shack that bubbled up looked even more rickety and decrepit than what she’d seen already, if that were even possible. She set her sights on the pieces of ancient Atlantean ruins instead, but even they seemed weird, their odd angles impious with horrible images and hieroglyphs. “...Hissterical,” the feral spat. Like it or not, it was time to get a move on.

Loathe to leave her family’s parting gifts behind, Nadia sacrificed the use of one arm to bind the cases and the gun in a sling of muscle fiber. Then she was off to the races. Before her roof could disappear into the mire she got clear with a running jump. She used the prow of an upturned rowboat and the top of a lamp post as stepping stones, then nimbly ran across the top of a crumbling stone wall. Spotting a rotten ship’s figurehead, she jumped for it with a blood-propelled dropkick. The impact snapped the spar supporting the carved maiden, and with Nadia atop it the whole thing fell forward into the quagmire, forming a bridge to a circle of standing fish idols. Breathing heavily, she crossed over, used the statues as stepping stones, and landed on a section of antiquarian aqueduct just in time to see the BT’s strands whipping across the beach. “Whoa!” she yowled, separating at the thighs to avoid the first pitch-black tentacle. As she came together she sprang forward in a jet of blood, diving between two more before she landed with a roll at the end of the aqueduct, blotched by the tar pooled within. “Eugh,” she groaned, getting to her feet to assess the situation. She’d managed to get almost to the beach’s east side cliff, from which she could definitely hit the big bastard’s eye. When she looked back, however, she spotted the BT swinging its strands in a colossal backhand, chasing the heroes as they made their way Nadia’s direction. “Look out, it’s coming around again!” she yelled.

Hat Kid was mid-jump when she got hit, caught wholesale by one of the hands that adorned the BT’s strands. It squeezed her tight, then like a stone from a sling, let her loose. The poor child hurtled out of control, straight toward the rocky cliff. “Hatty!” Nadia screamed, dropping her loot without a second thought. With only a split second to act she launched herself toward the girl as best she could, but it wasn’t good enough, and she realized mid-flight that she and Hat Kid would pass one another by a matter of meters. In an act of desperation she sacrificed a chunk of what little blood she had left to throw a half-formed copycat Hatty’s way. It managed to intercept her, grab hold, and be dragged along as the little girl flew, wrapping itself around her in a hug until the two hit the cliffside. Nadia’s copycat exploded from the impact, but its gelatinous body managed to cushion the kid just enough. She fell onto a stony shelf behind a promontory, and a moment later the real Nadia descended with the help of an airdash. Though lightheaded from the blood loss, the feral crouched down beside her. “Hatty? Hatty!” The girl wasn’t moving, and Nadia didn’t want to touch her, lest she worsen her injuries. “Blaze, over here, hurry!”

There wasn’t much that Nadia could do for her, she knew. Blazermate would have to bring the tyke back from the brink. At the very least, though, the cat burglar could make that monstrosity pay. She dropped down from behind the promontory, retrieved her weird gun, took aim, and fired. As the others let loose, having made their way to new vantage points from which they could strike at the BT’s eyes, Nadia fired and fired and fired again, until the expenditure of blood made her pass out, too.

It wasn’t long after that that the Seekers struck the final blow. The BT has reached the shore, but the relocation of its eye had been its last resort, and once they maneuvered their way across the perilous beach to get a bead on their target, Nadia’s allies finished the job. Their enemy fell to one knee, vying to support its weight on one arm, then with the last of its strength attempted to stand once more. Golden crystallization spread across its entire body, and as it stiffened,the hands that sprouted from its neck splayed wide. As the fingers bent and twisted, as if grasping for any shred of salvation, it shook the beach with one final bellow, like the song of a dying whale. Above it, the tumultuous sky began to calm, and the tar -with all its clutter- began to recede into the earth. Then, with agonizing slowness, the abominable thing toppled backward into the surf. Its golden body shattered like a mirror, and from within surged a tide of darkness. It swept over everyone present, but instead of pain or further horror the heroes found a strange relief in its momentary embrace, like the relief of closing one’s eyes after staring into a bright light.

”Ah, the sweet child of Kos, returned to the ocean…”

Then the shadow passed, and in its wake it left only the Beach, devoid of tar, or corpses, or filth of any kind. The water had receded a couple hundred feet from the black sand, leaving a wealth of chiral crystals, a field of frozen, grasping hands. In the largest formation, the spirit of the Orphan of Kos lay, its visage every bit as horrifying within the cerise swirl. A distant sunrise shone through the clouds, and in its warm rays the last traces of black mist melted away.

”A bottomless curse, a bottomless sea. Accepting of all that there is, and can be.”

After making doubly sure that no more nasty surprises awaited them, the weary heroes reconvened. Those in good shape helped along those who weren’t. Despite being barely conscious, Nadia clung to her gifts as if her life depended on it, which turned out to be oddly appropriate when a friend of hers inspected the containers. One of the labels on the box of cryptobiotes mentioned their ability to restore blood levels when eaten, and once made aware Nadia began to chow down. Though gross, the little bugs proved effective, and after munching through ten of them the feral felt a lot better. “Oh, man…” she exhaled, still a little woozy but able to (mostly) stand on her own. “I hope that worked. Otherwise, my efforts will be…in vein.”

She felt bad the instant she made the pun. Everyone was dirty, in pain, tired, and miserable. Their gear and clothes were in a pitiable state; Nadia was one hundred percent sure she’d have to throw hers away. Her mind swam from the horror of what she’d witnessed as much as from the blood loss, but no amount of not-so-yummy snacks could make that go away. Nobody died, at least. Bowser got whisked away by the cats to go hang out with Mirage, Link overcame his electrocution, Sakura jumped up from the mud like her alarm went off, Hatty got knocked out and...that was all she’d seen. It had been pandemonium, but all of her friends were still here. That’s something worth celebrating, she thought. Aside from the whole saving-the-world thing.

Once everyone left was accounted for, Peach took a deep breath. “Screw this place,” she declared suddenly, all the optimism and goodwill she’d striven for in her earlier speech washed away by the Orphan’s final act. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The princess only got a few steps before she suddenly stopped, an important realization came to mind. “Damn it.” She turned back around. “I know that freak is the last thing we want to think about, but someone needs to fuse with it. It can’t be destroyed, and if we don’t take care of it...well, it’ll probably come back.” She looked around, her expression as apologetic as it was weary.

"Think I might be the best one to take it." Geralt said in response to the question. "That...thing...isn't something to be considered lightly. And Witchers, specifically, are mutated in such a way that allows us to take in alchemically prepared monster parts to gain some of their traits. Spirits are like that, in a way." Looking at the Orphan's Spirit, Geralt nodded. "And I'm willing to take the risk, and the downsides, that come with it. Whatever they are..."

For volunteering the Witcher found himself caught in a deluge of thanks and praise. Nobody wanted the Orphan inside them, horrific as it was, and to have someone willing meant a weight off their backs. Going near the chiralium crystals proved to have an immediate negative effect on his mind, taking the form of a sudden surge of depression, but Geralt’s long stride allowed him to retrieve the Orphan spirit quickly and retreat to a safe distance. There, with everyone looking on in worry, he did the deed.

For Geralt

Guardian spirit Assimilated:
Orphan of Kos
The severity of this fusion has been greatly lessened thanks to Geralt’s mutagenic resistance and his fusion with the harbor demon, whose height, beauty, general thickness, and voluminous hair almost perfectly counteract the Orphan’s shriveled, grotesque, hairless husk. The host is now pale enough to be considered albino, down to 7’7” in height, with a present but not too worrisome decrease in mass, if not physical strength. Harbor demon’s original hair length plus the Orphan’s baldness has resulted in somewhat shaggier hair at only a little longer than the host’s original length. The host’s generally a little less good looking than he was originally, with a ghastly smile and overall more bony structure (prominent ribs, elbows, knee bones, cheek bones, etc). From the shoulders of his gear extend two half-capes of a slightly translucent white material that is mistakable for silk when dry. Confers the Power Eldritch Lightning, which allows the host to call forth waves of electricity with a scream. Also confers the Power Hateful Flesh, which allows to pull the Orphan’s cleaver from within himself at a moderate health cost. The heaviest of his three weapons, it possesses an edge of siderate, a mineral said to have fallen from the great beyond, and rather than men or monsters, it deals extra damage to eldritch and spectral enemies. The host can pull clumps of extremely volatile tissue from the cleaver, which can then be used as contact explosives. Also confers the Strength A Call Beyond, giving the host an affinity for and insight into nightmarish things beyond mortal ken. Confers the Weakness Rager, making it easier for Geralt to give into anger when fighting (or in general) and suffer compromised decision-making with no increase to combat ability

When the light died down the Seekers were relieved to see that their grouchy friend didn’t look all that much worse for wear, somehow. In fact, he looked rather like his original self, if a little worse for wear. With that matter settled better than anyone -Geralt included- could have hoped, there wasn’t much to do other than gather up loot and get the hell away from the beach, as Peach prescribed. Though it glittered, the chiralium was certainly not gold, and just going near such a vast deposit gave rise to a disquieting onset of dark thoughts, so the heroes prepared to hurry on their way.

That left just one question, which Nadia, after blinking a few times, ended up voicing. “So…how do we get back to Limsa, again?”

World of Light

At most I feel like he would have left a note saying something along the lines of 'Dear Papyrus, if you're reading this, it means you got back home before I did, so just sit tight and chill until I get back from looking for you'

World of Light

@Lugubrious I have an important question or rather since I want to include it IC an inquiry; since Snowdin is how it is, can Papyrus & San's house be there too? I have an idea I'm rolling in my head about something to possibly do in regards to it. So I wanted to ask, it would make sense their house would be there tbh.

@Dark Cloud

That would be fine, but keep in mind that Sans isn't there right now and hasn't been in some time.

World of Light

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Location: Sandswept Sky - Graveyard of the Peaks
Level 9 Tora (145/90) Level 9 Poppi (145/90) Level 5 Big Band (83/50)
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, and the Scout
Word Count: 1790

When the majestic colossus crested the ringed peaks, serpentine and monumental, like some deific being of legend, the breathtaking sight left the whole cohort of Seekers a little on edge. Weapons sprang to hand, magic burned at the ready, and gunslingers set their sights as the team prepared for an epic clash. Just the idea of trying to fight this thing left Raz rattled, and as the others spread out the Junior Psychonaut shrank back. Phalanx, however, made no move to attack them, nor even seemed to acknowledge their presence. It merely slid through the air, its movements smooth and serene, unbothered by any potential threats as it loosely traced the circumference of the great bell Jondo. Five seconds became ten, then fifteen, and by twenty the sudden activity of the alarmed newcomers had completely given way to calm.

“Meh,” Tora said, puzzled. Lowering his guard, he turned an inquisitive look to his teammates. “Why it not attack us? Surely it see us by now.”

With his shotgun slung casually over his shoulder, Skull tried to look on the bright side. “Maybe it ain’t hostile!”

“Are you insinuating that the ‘boss’, per se, was more the journey here than the creature itself?” Fox attempted to explain, invoking a little poetic reasoning.

Big Band looked doubtful. “You been hittin’ the jug, son? Ain’t no way we’d get that lucky. It’s just waitin’ for us to make the first move, most like.”

Still, as Midna pointed out, that meant that everyone could take the few moments afforded to them and spend them in preparation for the fight ahead. Their first order of business: to place the portcrystal, and call forth some reinforcements from their holiday down in Tostarena Town. Once set, the cone-sized gemstone began to lustrate. Inside it glimmered an array of lights like the distant cosmos, with a central celestial body orbited by a dozen or so lesser motes of light. In quick succession those orbitals began to glow brighter, and after another moment the portcrystal divulged burst after burst of brilliant cerulean magic, bright enough to be dazzling if not for the splendor of the sky and snowy peaks.

When the lightshow died down, it revealed a handful of allies fresh to the fight. Ciella stood as tall and imposing as ever, her longbow in hand and her cyan-painted lips set in an icy frown. The warm coat of the sorcerer Robin flapped in the breeze as he took in his surroundings, and from his shadow Tharja stared daggers at anyone who got too close to them. As soon as he saw Phalanx, Mao crossed his arms, and from his back all four mechanical limbs deployed, their gadgets ready to cause some mayhem. “Oh, is this all?” he said coolly. “I thought it would be bigger.”

Peacock looked annoyed that she’d been whisked away from watching cartoons, but the sight of a colossal foe brought a wicked smile to her face. “Look out–here comes trouble!” She produced a cigar, flicked it into the air, and caught it in her chompers, then pulled out a gun to light it with.

Among the new arrivals was one face Tora found himself particularly happy to see again. “Jesse!” he sang, flapping his wings with joy. “Tora knew you make it down no problem, meh!” The FBC director looked a little worse for wear after a chilly descent all on her lonesome, but thanks to her invaluable glider and a few lucky wind currents she was still ready to brawl, if a little low-spirited. “Oh, Jesse not slow anyone down, meh meh! It very strange journey toward the end, so it sound like long story for both of us. After we deal with big baddypon, Tora tell all about it over plate of Tasty Sausage!”

At the same time, Midna offered some food to Redento, but the wanderer shook his bowed head. “Oh, you are kind indeed to offer such undeserved grace to one such as I, but I beg you, forgive my refusal. A genuine genuflecting pilgrim must always walk alone. It is the solitary path that will grant him constant meditation and understanding of what it means to be a pilgrim in the lands of the Miracle.” Murmuring his apologies, Redento shuffled sufficiently far from the gathered Seekers.

Jesse went on to request confirmation on whether or not Phalanx was the region boss of the Sandswept Sky, which boggled Tora’s mind. He might have just pointed at it by way of answering, but Poppi took the chance to be more helpful. “It match description we given,” she told Jesse. “Also fit with pattern of baddies so far being big monsters at end of areas. Plus, we did meet Master Hand right before this, and realistically speaking…” the artificial blade shrugged. “It not like we have any better ideas.”

Her reasoning seemed to be more than enough for Sectonia. Invigorated by her mystical restoration, the prospect of a final battle, and the lingering golden aura that made the act of flight easier than ever, the insect queen took to the infinite skies. Without so much as a smidgeon of hesitation she unleashed a torrent of light rings, and though Phalanx soared along at a good clip, its sheer size and predictable flight-pattern made hitting it such a breeze that even a few of Sectonia’s random projectiles ultimately hit their mark. That did her little good in the end, however, for her indiscriminate spells yielded almost nothing in terms of damage. What shallow marks they left across the colossus’ carapace bothered the creature so little that it didn’t even notice, but cruised steadily onward, ignorant of the fly buzzing around it. Only the rings that happened to cut into Phalanx’s three enormous bladders had any real effect; as the gas leaked out from the ruptures, the creature began to sink almost imperceptibly downwards.

“...Meh,” Tora muttered after a few uneventful moments, rather bemused. From below he couldn’t tell that his adversary was riding ever-so-slightly lower. “This might take while. Poppi?” He turned to address his artificial companion. “Run diagnostic, please!”

“Yes, Masterpon,” she replied, and having already done so on her own a few minutes ago, she proceeded to deliver her report. “No indications of damage to chassis or systems found. Ether furnace operating at one hundred percent efficiency. Ambient ether saturation index is high. In addition, can confirm presence of ‘afterglow’ effect that seem to confer both slowfall and updraft, making ideal conditions for flying. Poppi QT Pi is ready for action!”

“Looks like everyone who made the climb got the same buff. Instead of sitting down here and just shooting it, we could probably take the fight straight up to the boss!” Necronomicon added.

Big Band, Fox, and Joker exchanged a nod before the detective spoke. “This time is now. Let’s get to gettin’!”

He jumped, reconfigured to rocket mode, and blasted off in the direction of the colossus with Peacock holding on for dear life. As the Phantom Thieves opened up their gliders and zipped upward on the wind, followed closely and then quickly surpassed by Tora and Poppi, Mona padded over to his fellow big-headed youngster Raz. “Hey, buddy,” the catlike thief greeted him. “Just wanted to say that if you’re scared right now, you’re in good company. I’ve been with the Phantom Thieves from the beginning, and trust me, even if it looks like we know what we’re doing whenever we get up to crazy stuff like this, we’re mostly flying by the seat of our pants. We’re all a little scared deep down, but we know what’s at stake, and more importantly, we know we got each other’s backs. As long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

Mona adopted a heroic pose with his paws akimbo, looking up at his allies as they soared toward Phalanx. “No matter how big or bad the things we face, there’s always a way. Some kind of weak spot to find, or something in the environment we can turn to our advantage.” He glanced down at the four bronze statues on the bridge. “Like those. Kind of conspicuous, don’t you think? I’d check ‘em out myself, but I can’t exactly leave the guys on their own, you know? Heheh.” Turning back to Raz, he gave a big, toothy smile. “Listen, I gotta go now. Whether it’s up there or down here, just do your best, and it’ll all work out in the end.” His glider popped open, and with a salute the little thief shot into the air. “See yaaaaa~!”

Nearby, Ciella had adopted a shooting stance. She nocked her arrow and pulled taut the string, building up a miniature typhoon of water power around the shaft as she adjusted her aim. After a few calculated moments she fired, loosing the arrow not where her target was, but where it was going to be. Even with the Agito’s skill it missed Phalanx’ eye by a wide margin, owing to the wind, distance, and other factors involved, but Ciella was undeterred. She slipped another arrow from her quiver and, with adjustments in mind, prepared to shoot again.

Aside from Raz, that left the Scout, Mao, Braum, Robin, and Tharja on the ground, with only the most mustached among them bearing the ‘afterglow’ that Poppi described. Mao sighed. “Well, this is somewhat inconvenient.”

“You know, tactically speaking, our little friend might have a point,” Robin ventured. “Unless the others find a way to bring that thing down, our options are limited, so we might as well investigate those bronze statues. Surely they’re here for a reason.”

Up in the sky, Tora and Poppi passed Phalanx by for an eagle eye view, but Big Band made straight for the colossus. He redeployed his legs as he came in for a flying Brass Knuckle, his brazen arm extended. “Gimme a…hit!” Unfortunately, his fist glanced off the creature’s scales, and Band skidded backward until he came to the thick carpet of dark fur that ran along the creature’s back. It provided enough purchase for him to come to a stop and upright without being blown around by the wind. Once the heroes boarded Phalanx, it reacted for the first time, letting out a long, low groan as it wove from side to side in an effort to shake its riders off. A good grip proved sufficient to overcome its maneuver. As Band narrowed his eyes, examining the unique situation he found himself in, Peacock hopped down. “Make sure ya grab on tight when it’s fixin’ to bank around,” he told her, but the little menace was already waltzing away. With a shrug of resignation Band turned his gaze elsewhere, hunting for any weak spot.

The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Skeleton, and the Skullgirl

Location: Frozen Highlands - Snowdin
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Papyrus’ @Dark Cloud

Though the unerringly kind-hearted Skullgirl did not fail to offer Treat the encouragement she needed to open up and accept help, Albedo’s attempt to garner support for the trepidatious shut-in resulted in nothing more than taciturn silence from either Frisk or Papyrus. The alchemist fretted that his social inexperience left his outreach more subtle and indirect than it should have been, but he also considered the possibility that the child and the skeleton might still be suffering from the shock of the basement encounter. Once Papyrus no-sold Linkle’s direct request, Albedo began to feel more sure of that secondary hypothesis. For any normal person, particularly one as young and innocent as Frisk, such a nightmarish episode might leave scars that lasted far, far longer than any physical wound. Neither were such injuries as easily healed.

When it came to psychiatric help Albedo regretted that he could offer no assistance of any kind, not even a recommendation on who the two might be able to consult, but for the matter of Treat’s sprained ankle he knew just who to call on. “Let us pay a visit to the town healer,” he suggested, cutting off the awkward moment of silence before it could drag on too long. “Here, just sit tight, miss Treat. I’ll lend a hand.” With both him and Linkle guiding the sled, taking pains to ensure the trip down the mountainside steps wasn’t too uncomfortable, the little group of oddballs made their descent. Wanting no further reminders of the creepy craftsman who would haunt the Beneviento House no longer, they ignored the dolls that dangled overhead in the deadwood copse, and pushed on through the alleyway into Snowdin’s far more wholesome thoroughfare.

Fresh snowflakes were falling, light and fluffy. If it kept up through the afternoon and into the evening, their accumulation would soon wipe away the comings and goings of the day, brushing over the footfall-worn ruts and leaving a perfect blanket of smooth, unblemished white for the villagers to wake up to and look upon with new joy beneath the brilliant colors of the Christmas tree. Smiling snowmen stood beside doorsteps and decorated hedges, snug in their hats and scarves as they silently kept the townsfolk company. “This way,” Albedo murmured, directing his party down the road.

Once Linkle helped Treat off the sled, the alchemist stopped at the door of a little house with a red door, knocking once before he stepped back out from beneath the icicles that hung menacingly from the eaves. No sound reached the newcomers from inside, but after a few seconds, the door swung open. Inside stood none other than an adult male white tiger, regal, armored, and voluminous. Recognizing Albedo, he bowed his head, and in a most gentlemanly baritone, greeted him. “Good afternoon, Mr. Albedo. And to the rest of you, good day as well. Dromarch, at your service, and I bid you welcome to our humble home. Please, come in.” Moving with remarkable strength and silence, he cleared the way, allowing the alchemist and his acquaintances to come in from the snow. With his tail he turned the knob of and opened a little closet in which they could put their coats if so desired. After leading them toward the couches by the fireplace, Dromarch proceeded to tend it. He took a fresh log and tossed it in with such grace that he didn’t even burn his whiskers. “My lady is currently curled up in bed, reading,” he told his guests as the fire crackled merrily away. “Shall I fetch her for you?”

“Please,” Albedo replied. “Our friend here is hurt, and we were hoping ‘your lady’ could take care of it.”

Dromarch bowed his head, the very picture of etiquette. “Certainly. And may I offer you any refreshment? Cocoa, tea perhaps?” He glanced at Papyrus. “We…do have milk as well, if it would do your bones any good.”

“I would be grateful for some tea,” Albedo told him.

Once the tiger had the group’s requests, he went over to the kitchenette to take care of him. He created water using some sort of magic, filling a kettle that he gingerly put on the stove with his mouth. Somehow, he managed to take out not just tea bags but also cocoa bags should the situation call for it, tearing them open with the air of his paws. While doing so he left the guests to their own devices, to warm themselves and chat as they say fit. For her part, Treat kept quiet, quite overwhelmed by all the kindness being shown to her.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Barney Rynsburger

As the others continued to regain their strength, Spindle sought to answer their follow-up questions as best she could. “Yeah, course there’s a way out,” she told Lorenzo as she crossed her arms, a hint of wryness visible in her encouraging smile. “Otherwise, tryin’ ta help folks would be a gosh-darn waste o’ time, ‘cause nobody can keep runnin’ and fightin’ forever. Lose yerself in here, and ya won’t be yerself for long. The Metaverse just ain’t where humans oughta be.” She cleared her throat, then looked between both Lorenzo and Jin and she hurriedly nodded. “But yeah, uh, focusin’ on the bright side, there’s a buncha ways out, in fact. Just gotta find ‘em, and get around anythin’ in the way. That’s my only mission right now.”

Lorenzo, understandably, seemed interested in Personas, although he had the wrong idea about how to obtain one. “Heavens, no, ya can’t even fight a Warlord if ya don’t got one, really.” She ran her fingers through her hair, scratching a nagging itch. “More like…stand up for yourself, I guess? It’s a li’l different for everyone, but when yer nemesis pushes ya to the breakin’ point, ya just gotta keep it together, and you’ll come out stronger.” Unsatisfied, however, Lorenzo kept on asking questions, and the police girl didn’t have answers for all of them. Who would they be fighting? “How the heck should I know? Nobody knows what you’re goin’ through better than you.”

The prevailing sentiment among the group seemed to be a strong aversion to any protracted campaign in the Metaverse, which Spindle regretted, but understood. It wasn’t easy to get by in this cognitive world even for a native, and she couldn’t imagine what was going through the minds of these poor people. As she looked around the spacious hotel lobby, she was glad at least to see that the food and drink left them feeling better. With all of them probably as good as they were going to get, she decided that there was no time like the present to proceed back out into the war-torn world. “Kay folks, now that we’ve had a good break, let’s get a move on before any unsavory types close in. C’mon!”

She took off toward the hotel’s double doors, situated on the north side, and Barney followed. Though he felt alright, all things considered, it was difficult for him to hide his concern for a couple of his new acquaintances. Several group members had elected to not eat or drink anything from the hotel, maybe from a sense of distrust or unwellness, and from the way the hobbled along he feared for them should they come into contact with more monsters. Hopefully, he thought, Spindle can get us to the exit nice and quietly. Although the doors ahead were chained, the glass around them was broken, and a little careful maneuvering the escapees could get through.

On the other side, however, a dangerous landscape awaited them. Without a parking lot of any kind as a cushion between it and the rest of the city, the hotel stood directly on the edge of a sprawling avenue in a state of incredible disarray. To Barney it looked straight out of any one of the innumerable post-apocalyptic movies that portrayed the ruin of civilization, with gutted and burnt-out buildings sagging like dying plants over streets carved into ribbons by a network of large furrows. In addition to the cars and trucks one might expect of a modern metropolis, cannons, tanks and other weapons of war lay here and there, with arrows and medieval weapons sprouting up all over like rusty wildflowers. It would have been intimidating enough if abandoned, but Barney could see plenty of Shadows out and about, whether fighting, wandering, hiding, or merely languishing. The bearded man took a deep breath.

“Welcome to the trenches.” Spindle put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the warzone. “For most folks, life is a constant battle. Even if they ain’t strugglin’ to make ends meet, day by day and week by week, they’ve got other problems.”

Closer inspection only made Barney feel worse, for it revealed woeful details like the unmarked graves, the chains and barbed wire that kept certain Shadows stuck in place, and the broken locks that would have otherwise connected two or more shadows together. “I mean, that makes sense. But why a battleground? Most people’s lives aren’t violent.”

The police girl shrugged. “Maybe, but they’re still hurtin’. A whole lotta folks are so focused on their own problems that they don’t end up givin’ a hoot about anyone else’s, even if they don’t mean it. Askin’ for help can sometimes be even tougher than gettin’ it. If people don’t help each other, they’re left to fend for themselves. Everyone fightin’ their battles all on their own.”

Barney wanted to say that sounded a little pessimistic, but honestly, what did he know? Part of the whole reason why he ended up in this mess was the assumption that everyone had it worse than him–that he didn’t need to burden them with his problems, or need any help to deal with them himself. Too many thoughts swirled around in his head about mankind, leaving a dense, heavy knot deep inside him. I need to focus on getting out here, he reasoned, trying to center himself.

“We ain’t goin’ through there, at least,” Spindle was saying. “The Shadows don’t like anyone bustin’ through their territory. We could fight through for a while, but in the end we’d be stuck in the trenches just like the rest.” She pointed at the sidewalk that ran to the right of the hotel, then turned to act as a border between the trenches and the row of waterfront buildings that ran alongside the edge of the canal. “Once we get off the street, we’ll take the high road. Might seem shut-up and closed off, like ya can’t get through, but they’re all connected. If ya got the right connections, you can get anywhere. A li’l shelter and stability goes a long way, huh?”

She summoned Odradek and climbed aboard. “I’ll be yer eye in the sky. Once yer inside the buildin’s, head north along the river. We’re aimin’ for a park up a ways, right in front o’ the business sector. Now git!”

At her urging Barney began to move. He broke out of the safety of the hotel’s threshold and ran along the sidewalk, like an exposed mouse skirting the wall in search of its hole. Nearby, the shadows along the trenches began to stir, as if noticing a potential threat about to invade. Ignoring them, Barney made for the nearest apartment, summoned his wheel when he grew near, and smashed through the locked wrought-iron fence to run up the stars. The front door featured no lock of any kind, and in just another moment Barney was inside. He turned and held the door for everyone else to hurry inside.

As one might expect given everything thus far, the interior of the apartment was a little weird. It seemed to be a multi-floor labyrinth of rooms that fit together like blocks in a doll house, lacking any coherent aesthetic. No matter which doors he or the others tried, they opened without issue, giving the newcomers access to ever more living rooms, bathrooms, bedrooms, studies, laundry rooms, and so forth. Only the windows on the left that gave a view of the trenches and the windows to the right that offered glimpses at the canal (and sometimes Spindle as she flew by) gave any sense of forward progress.

There were shadows around, too. Murky and indistinct, they lounged on couches in front of TVs, lay in beds, picked away at scraps at the dinner table, or engaged in any number of other ordinary activities. A second glance revealed, however, that much of what was going on here wasn’t quite right. The shadows behaved in an disturbingly repetitive manner, doing things like opening and closing appliances, banging on surfaces, or dancing together in perfect sync. Some reacted to their unwelcome guests’ presence, but slowly, as if in a trance, and Barney deciding to leave them to their business. “This place is creepy,” he murmured, skirting around the shadows as best he could. Still, it wasn’t long before the group ran into a few shadows determined to bar their way.

A group of four child-sized shadows sat on the floor in front of a door that the team needed to get through, smashing toys into one another. When they caught sight of Barney and the others, however, each one began to throw a tantrum, and in quick succession each exploded into a demon. From two of them, lucent Skyfish burst forth, while the other two became a scrawny, kangaroo-sized devil and a beady-eyed gremlin, respectively. “Play with us, play with us!” they cried. Barney inhaled sharply and brought out his wheel, counting on those of his fellow sufferers with Personas to do the same.

World of Light

It's always good to feel like one's characters matter in the world they're immersed in, especially when other PCs are concerned, so I'm sure nobody thinks that sentiment sounds silly. I'm glad you found some fulfillment there, and certainly hope that the next time you put your passion into a character, theirs is a happier -and much farther away- end.

World of Light

Ms Fortune

Location: Carcass Isle - Where All Things Must Come
Level 8 Nadia (15/80)
Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Hat Kid’s @Dawnrider, Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN, Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 2480

The moment that Nadia felt the ground underfoot begin to change, she made a mad dash back to the sanctuary of the nearest boulder. With every step the beach beneath her became more unstable and mucky, less like sand and more like a bog of tar. By the time the feral reached her shelter only a moment later, she needed to pull her leg free from the sticky black quagmire that would in just a matter of moments blanket the entirety of the Kosm’s accursed cove. The morass clutched at her so doggedly that she almost lost her foot to it in the process, and even after popping it back on she soon realized -from the slow ascent of her surroundings- that her refuge wouldn’t keep her safe for long. Grimacing, she bunched herself up and leaped over to the roof of one of the oyster-encrusted hovels that had arisen from below.
Nadia looked around in an effort to grasp the full scope of the changes to the beach, trying to get her bearings. Floating sea corpses, random stuff from around the island, and pitch-back tar. Everywhere. She took a deep breath. If her fears came to pass and the fight really wasn’t over, her team might be in for a seriously bad time. If not for a static and dependable battleground their slobberknocker with the Orphan so far might have gone very differently, and now it looked like the Seekers’ theater of war would be in constant flux. While the others could probably slog through the gunk, especially the tallest and most physically powerful among them, its viscosity limited movement to such a degree that fighting in the muck was basically impossible. “This is some raw-ass butt,” she concluded.

Naturally, it only got worse from there. She stared, paralyzed, as the Beached Thing made its presence known off the coast. Unlike the Orphan, a grisly affair of blood, guts, and twisted flesh that shambled and lunged like a horror movie monster, the BT appeared to be uncannily human in shape, normal except for the strands in place of fingers, the freaky umbilical cord, and the hands where a head ought to be. It walked like a man too, swinging its arms as it ambled toward the shore at what could only be described as a leisurely pace, as if it struggled with the molasses that now coated the beach too. Its cord writhed in a terribly disquieting manner as the creature dragged it along, like a worm in the water. Aside from its staggering size, it almost struck Nadia as something incapable of fighting, or even being fought, which in turn made it all the more ominous.

“You’ve gotta be kitten me,” she groaned, making the pun unconsciously. “That wasn’t even its final form? How’re we even supposed to fight this…this giant-ass ghost?” After taking a second to pull herself together, however, and hearing Link point out a significant silver lining, Nadia began to realize that this might actually not be that bad. In a way it even made sense; when she and the others challenged the Skullgirl back in the Dead Zone, she also evolved throughout the encounter, with her third and last phase the strangest. That form also moved around the least, making it an easy target if you could get past the utter pandemonium of her skeletal legions. After a quick breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, Nadia rolled her neck, then her shoulders, then stretched her arms. “The final stretch,” she murmured, a thin, wry smile on her face. With some of her vitality and stamina restored by her Nyawn, she stanced up, ready as she was going to get for one more round. If this thing was some kind of vengeful spirit, then it was past time the Seekers laid it to rest.

Nadia’s first order of business was to get up to the BT in order to hit it, since that eye over its heart looked like the mother of all weak spots, and Link’s idea gave her one, too. Remembering when the Hero of the Wild used that same lockdown power on his spear earlier, particularly the way it hurtled away with all the motive force it stored up while in stasis, she charged up her water purr-essure to rocket herself his way. As Link walloped the immobile boulder she sailed in to land on top of it, light enough on her feet that one punch from the swordsman was more than enough to counteract her impact. “Don’t mind me!” she told him with as cheery a wave as she could muster. “Just think of me as-?” She fell silent as the shriek of Bella’s leviathan tail heralded the departure of a railgun shot, aimed for the BT’s heart. Owing to the instability of the rowboat beneath her, however, the Abyssal’s shell missed the mark, and slammed into the eidolon’s shoulder, producing a burst of inky, icky tar. “Think of me as-” Nadia tried again, only to be drowned out a second time by a tremendous, deep reverberation, a long and bassy groan almost like the lowing of primeval cattle. It swept over the beach like a gust of wind, playing at the startled feral’s ears and hair alike. She swallowed. “As a…cat-apult,” she finished, and not a moment too soon. The rapid blinking of the boulder beneath her culminated in a shattering of its illusory chains, and very abruptly both rock and rider hurtled away.

When it came to hitting the eye Link aimed well, but not perfectly. His makeshift projectile flew on a collision course toward the vicinity of the lower sternum, and at about the halfway point Nadia sprang off the rock, revving up her right forearm like a drill as she cruised in on borrowed momentum. A burst of vital fluid pushed her faster still, although less-than-ideal aim and timing caused her to overshoot her target, and just a heartbeat later she plunged her arm into the monster’s left bicep. Behind her the boulder strunk the BT’s chest hard enough to stagger it, and with glee the cat burglar carved into the viscous flesh she’d landed on.

Instantaneously her arm started to slow down, and before Nadia knew it she was stuck, buried up to the elbow in the gunk. “Uh oh,” muttered, trying to pull her limb loose, only to find out after repeated attempts that she couldn’t get free without leaving a part of her behind. Even worse, when she braced against the BT’s body to try and yank her arm out, her shins and left palm got stuck, too. “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh.” As her mind raced for any solution, the titan’s lowing drew her attention upward, where she spotted a host of creepy jellyfish-things floating out like balloons from the pit of the BT’s neck. They began to spread over the beach, and as they drifted, the monster began its attack. It lifted its ten finger-strands from the water, revealing a human hand on the end of each, and whipped them toward the gathered heroes like enormous cat-o-nine-tails. Some flailed around with closed fists, but others reached out with open hands, seeking to seize hold of whatever Seekers they could and reel them in for consumption.

The BT’s attack posed an even greater problem for Nadia. When it moved its arm, Nadia moved with it, and when it changed directions it jerked her hard enough to drive her even deeper into the muck. As the side of her head splatted against its body, stuck fast, her brain went haywire from fear. “Nyaaaagh!” she yowled, and from her blue blood she created two copycats to help extract her from the colossal mire. It was then that the feral’s luck took a turn for the better, for the moment the doubles jammed their hands into the goop, it began to sizzle and steam like fat in a frying pan. They went on the offensive, clawing away at the BT’s bizarre flesh until it was weak enough for Nadia to wrench herself out with all her parts intact. Realizing that the turnabout must have something to do with her blood, she planted her feet against the giant’s arm, re-absorbed her copycats and put all that hydropower into a massive double eruption from her legs. The next second she blasted off, leaving a messy crater behind in the nightmare’s bicep as she swooped back down toward the beach.

She struck one of the tar-balloons on the way down, causing it to rupture explosively. The trauma stunned her, rendering her totally unable to optimize her landing. All she could do as she fell, dangerously close to unconsciousness, was hope that one of her allies managed to catch her.

Her comrades did not let her down. “Oof!” she grunted as she came to a stop in Geralt’s strong arms. “My hero,” she gasped, clapping her hand on the Witcher’s shoulder by way of thanks. While she wouldn’t have minded coming to a stop in Ace’s embrace instead, which would have put the shoe on the other foot from earlier, she wasn’t about to be picky when it came to saving her skin. After a brief moment Geralt set her down on solid ground, and as the BT’s strands came whipping their way, they split up once again. Nadia ended up on top of another shack, where she looked up at the Bt to see the extent of the damage. What she found left her disappointed. The hole she’d blown in its arm had already scabbed over with golden crystal, and despite taking an enormous hunk of solid stone to the chest, the BT seemed pretty much fine. Unless the team could crystallize every inch of the colossus and turn it into one big, gaudy statue, it seemed like they would need to target that repulsive eye specifically. That, unfortunately, was a task easier said than done, especially with the diaspora of their enemy’s Gas Bags over the beach.

The team’s ranged fighters had a better time of it, especially Kamek with her snipers. With spell, arrow, or bullet they could blow up the gas bags from afar, and plug away at the eye from a safe distance while avoiding the BT’s strands without too much trouble. Before they could get too comfortable, however, it revealed another nasty trick. With a wave of its arms it hurled handfuls of golden, goopy humanoids that homed in on their targets, curving through the air like wraiths from beyond. Though vulnerable to being shot down themselves, those living missiles aimed to tackle the Seekers from their perches and into the tar, where they could try to drag them beneath.

Still panting, Nadia bent over again, her hands on her knees as she shook her head in frustration. Not every crazy idea was meant to be, and even if it couldn’t be called a disaster, her latest stunt had taken a lot out of her. Now, with no good way to attack this thing owing to her close range and flagging stamina, she found herself up the creek without a paddle. But she couldn’t just sit back and let the others struggle without her. Think, you stupid cat, think, she thought, glancing around. There has to be something, anything…!

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye, and she glanced over with a snarl. “What now!?” She spotted four dark shapes waving at her as they stood in the tar, murky and indistinct, and for a moment she couldn’t tell what she was looking at. Something about them bothered her, however–some inexplicable familiarity. The cat burglar looked closer, the giant BT all but forgotten. She crouched on the edge of her shack's roof, squinting, but even then it took her another couple seconds to recognize what stood before her.

When she did, Nadia fell to her knees, her mouth hung ever-so-slightly ajar. For the first time in untold years, tears welled up in her eyes. Those four figures, those Dagonians…one tall and chiseled, one long and lean, one broad and boisterous, one squat and surly. Just the same as she remembered them from that old drawing, one of the few mementos that withstood the test of time. As she stared, spellbound and speechless, the broad one hucked something at her. Though lobbed underhanded and slow, it bounced off the feral’s forehead before dropping right down into her hands. She glanced down to see a small container with a number of pinkish grubs floating around inside, with a label that read LIVE CRYPTOBIOTES - FOR HUMAN CONSUMPTION. She looked back up to see the thrower laughing. The familiarity of his raucous guffaws, so strong that they just about bent him over, caused her tears to run down her cheeks–even if she couldn’t hear them now, she remembered just what they sounded like. The others threw their gifts one at a time, and Nadia caught them all. From the tall one she received a box that jangled as if full of coins, from the skinny one she got frame housing a collapsed weapon of some kind, and from the squat one she was somehow not at all surprised to receive a six-pack of beer. Timefall porter, she read. When she looked up again Nadia saw the four men turn away, as if to leave. “Wait!” she cried, springing to her feet. “Don’t go! I have so much to tell you! I…” Powerless to do anything, she could only watch as the Dagonian thieves disappeared one by one. The broad one saluted, the skinny one bowed, the tall one blew a kiss and finally, after a moment of glowering, the squat one cracked a side-grin. He winked, waved goodbye, and was gone.

“You jerks.” Nadia’s head fell, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “Always got places to…to be, h-huh? Couldn’t spare your…your little girl any more time?” she whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “Well…I can’t explain it. Not even a li’l bit. But ya gave me somethin’ precious. Then…and now.” At the press of a button the collapsed firearm expanded to its full size, bursting out of the frame in the process. Nadia planted her feet and took aim, wincing for only a moment as the gun drew a measure of blood from her to load. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna waste it.” Even if she’d never used a gun before, they all operated on a similar principle: aim and pull the trigger. And with a target this big, how could she miss?

World of Light

If that's how you feel, I'm not going to suggest otherwise.

World of Light

@Lugubrious Hey Lu is it cool if I sorta just timeskip and have the two be in the town where Raiden is?

@Dark Cloud

Going down the mountain can be treacherous and take a while even with a glider, which is not made for two people, but I'm sure the kids can manage. Just as a heads up I'm currently doing a collab with Raiden.