Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
As it turned out, Faetalis did have something else in mind. Everyone approached the task they'd been given in their own way, several through the lens of pragmatism. It made sense, after all, to forego any special effort when one already owned an item capable of bestowing a human guise, or one could already boast a human appearance. Why wouldn't the more unusually shaped monsters present approach the idea of being stuffed into a human-sized suit with caution, even if Mae herself just accepted the impossible as a matter of course for Supreme Beings, without thinking? In their best efforts to accomplish their objective in as sensible and efficient a manner as possible, however, it seemed as though the Overseers missed out on a crucial piece of their master's assignment: her intent.
Mae crossed her arms -an impossible feat in her typical form- and developed a pensive expression as she ruminated on what Faetalis had to say. Like some of the others, she'd assumed that her boss simply wanted them to be disguised. To that end, the obvious choice was to select a skin from the grisly spoils of bygone victories, which magic would then allow them to inhabit. When she remembered a way to disguise herself without needing to sacrifice one of these trophies, Mae had been all too pleased at her own supposed cleverness, not realizing that she'd missed the mark. The hidden horror's simulated eyes went wide, mirroring her true self's thoughts, as the corrective words of Faetalis sank in. While she didn't immediately grasp the meaning of everything the Supreme One said, she knew in an instant when she'd messed up. Just being disguised in some way wasn't important; it was how that mattered. Suddenly the Witching Veil seemed like a cheap trick, a stop-gap solution that didn't actually address the issue. Like cooking in a bucket instead of a pot, just because she saw a bucket first.
Moreover, these once-glorious husks weren't hers, or any Overseer's to take. It soon became apparent that the much smarter Overseers were just as mistaken as Mae. As Faetalis continued to explain, however, things didn't necessarily become clearer. She wanted the members of her Raid Council to not look around, but within. Mae blinked a couple times as she looked down, trying to see what Faetalis evidently saw in her, although all she ended up seeing at the moment was her human guise's bosom. A 'Human', inside her? During and after the Guild's more high-profile invasions Mae had a bunch of humans inside her, whether minced, ground, juiced, baked, or raw. It had been a long time, however, since mankind had been on the menu, so she somehow doubted that was what Faetalis meant. But then what did she mean? Unlike her Maneaters, who at one point had been ordinary people before succumbing to their unholy, mutative curse, Mae had never been human, at least as far as she knew. As a Great Old One, she existed as a ghoulish monstrosity wholly beyond the ordinary world, a fearsome deity borne of gluttonous depravity whose hideous flesh made mockery of the human form, of the depths to which their sin could lead them. Maybe...that was what Faetalis alluded to? As Great Old Ones went, Mae did sit comfortably at the tamer end of the spectrum, far less cosmic and incomprehensible than her more 'outer' kindred, as far as she knew. Maybe, instead of a pretty form chosen for Mae, in order to cover her up with a much more appreciable veneer, her boss wanted a human that is Mae, or at least what she represents.
Or maybe that was all just a bunch of hogwash. Mae did feel a little hungry, and nothing distracted her from the monumental task of critical thinking like an empty stomach.
Either way, the headless horror did feel like she had a slightly better grasp of what Faetalis wanted. Her glamour watched, and her blindsight scanned, as her master finished her great work with a flourish and slipped on her new flesh like a jacket. In just a moment the deception was complete, and a totally unfamiliar human stood before the group of monsters, a pretty little thing that smacked of none of the Conquering Technomancer's genius or ambition. Mae couldn't even feel her pressure anymore; there wasn't a single trace of the slightly oppressive 'gravity' that naturally emanated from a Supreme One to weigh down upon lesser beings, such as herself. "Dad-gum!" she breathed, re-evaluating any detail for even the slightest hint of a flaw in the disguise, but just as she expected she found none. "Well, butter me up an' call me a biscuit, that's one downright immaculate costume there, Lady Faetalis!" She then internalized that her boss was cold. Somewhat sheepishly, Mae removed her Witching Veil, and in a matter of seconds the lovely chef ballooned back out into her true, abominable form. Promptly she removed her sleek, dark brown Night-lined Mantle and offered it to Faetalis to drape around her shoulders like a cloak.
No longer possessed of a head to emote with, the great ghoul stepped back and put her hands on her hips as she considered what to do. This place wasn't supposed to be a boutique where the Overseers shopped around for a good fit, but a tailor where they could get the perfect fit custom-ordered. As far as Mae could tell, the 'human' Faetalis asked for wasn't what Mae wanted out of those available, but what she wanted, period. But what did she want? It was a dizzying question. Right now, she mostly wanted a snack, and failing that, to be back in her kitchen cooking something, since that was what she enjoyed the most. But she also wanted to do a good job for Faetalis, of course. And that meant showing her 'innermost soul'. But what was that? Mae felt like she was thinking in circles, getting nowhere. "I don't got the INT for this," she mumbled to herself in resignation. What did Canology Mae want out of herself?
Try as she might, she could think of nothing she wanted more than to provide for her Guild, to make meals that could satisfy body and soul, then send her friends off with full hearts and all the boosts and buffs they might need to do their jobs. As fun as terrorizing that expedition had been, she possessed no particular bloodlust or grand ambition, other than to obtain fine ingredients for the craft of exquisite dishes. Of course, any who threatened her kitchen would soon find themselves on the menu, and she did feel a little ashamed that she'd never earned glory for her guild on the field of battle, but was that what she really wanted? ....No. Let the others pillage, adventure, scheme, and conquer; Mae would be here to get them ready when they left, and to welcome them home when they returned.
A vision sprang into mind--either hers or that of Faetalis, or maybe both. A woman, somewhere in her mid-thirties, at least. Quite stout, but nowhere near as much as Mae herself. Possessed of ruddy, ordinary features, chestnut-brown eyes, crow's feet, and wavy, mousy brown hair, pulled together in a ponytail over one shoulder, covered partially by a white cloth wound around the top of the head. Dressed in a simple forest-green overdress over an ankle-length smock, yellowish in color, and sporting a well-used apron and rolled-up sleeves. Hers was a face that could be found most anywhere, whether in a tavern making beds or doling out food and drink to weary travelers, in a farmhouse over a roaring stove after a long day's work, or at market bargaining for the freshest meat and produce from the countryside. This sort of face belonged to countless mothers and wives, and it was one that just about anyone would happy to see, for it belonged to someone who knew how to take good care of you. Not someone who would ever change the face of the world, whether through war or politics, or who would earn the admiration of heroes or kings, but someone who ran a tight kitchen and kept a good home, beloved by many and respected by anyone with a lick of sense. There could be no doubt about it; for all of Mae's monstrosity, and despite the Witching Veil's glamour, this better represented who she really was.
Location: Sandswept Sky Level 9 Tora (222/90) Level 9 Poppi (222/90) Level 7 Big Band (50/70) Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, Raiden’s @XoXKieroBombXoX, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, the Scout, Peacock, Tharja Word Count: 2511
The matter of money, and especially due recompense, was one near and dear to a lot of the Seekers’ hearts. Sectonia pointed out one avenue for getting paid, that being an extravagant treasure hunt across the entirety of the Sandswept Sky, exploring far and wide in a bid to leave no stone unturned when it came to making bank. Midna ruminated on the possibility as well, remembering both previous transportation used and promises made. Normally Tora would be all for it, anything to make a quick buck, but right now he could only think of it as an attractive possibility. Even if they weren’t totally done with the Sandswept Sky just yet after all, everyone needed time to recuperate after weathering the incredible trial they’d undergone.
Though cooled, sheltered, and comfortable as they were going to get out here, their muscles still burned from overexertion, throats hurt from hyperventilation, ears rang, and bones hurt. The efforts of the medics meant that their fatigue would outlast their injuries, but it would still be a good while before anyone could seriously consider getting back into action. Luckily, time was one thing the weary heroes had in abundance as they waited for extraction, along with heat, space, and sand. Soon only Big Band’s saxophone could be heard over the desert ambiance, playing a slow, melancholy tune in a heartfelt and soulful attempt to set aching hearts at ease. With the big man as tired and torn up as everyone else, however, it wasn’t long before only the whispers of wind and sand stood between the Seekers and silence.
It wasn’t ideal, but at least it wasn't humid either, and it was rather peaceful out here. Now that they’d come back down to earth after the outrageous highs and lows of their fight against Red Eye, the team could get acquainted -or reacquainted- with the same feeling that confronted the first Seekers when they first emerged from the mountain range that encircled Alcamoth’s Eryth Sea to witness the Sandswept Sky in its staggering entirety. Though large for a Nopon, Tora still seldom beat any humans out in terms of height, and in this barren expanse he felt even smaller than usual. At least the likes of Big Band and Braum couldn’t be doing much better, he figured.
It was weird staring across the miles and miles of wide-open land back at Split Mountain, knowing that he’d just been there and having a much stronger appreciation for just how massive it really was. Worse still, even after their grueling effort to attain that lofty peak, the Seekers still never quite reached that mysterious pinnacle, and found out what lay beyond its heavenly light. Tora sighed and laid his head back down to rest, but Poppi continued to stare at that zenith, unbothered by the glare of the sun. What prompted mere curiosity in her Masterpon, she found herself thinking about with almost spiritual reverence, like that peak represented the ultimate end of one’s story, distant and unknowable no matter how far one got. She felt a little foolish just thinking about it, unable to explain or even properly understand that sort of sensation as an artificial being, but she felt it nonetheless. Poppi wondered if she even really wanted to know what lay at the end. What answer could live up to the journey there?
In time the heroes recovered and recomposed themselves, cleaned up and breathing a little easier. As the sun dipped down to the horizon and Split Peak’s glow grew bolder, long shadows stretched across the sand, cast first by the Seekers and then by the dunes. When Ciella’s shoulder finally felt good enough to bear her off into the gathering dusk, she stood up from the sand and dusted herself off. “With Robin’s death, his visage of Grima, and these new revelations, the Grimleal will have much to consider,” she said. “Though your strength and teamwork leaves much to be desired, I can see that you’re not deceiving yourselves. If the Galeem you speak of truly believes itself lord of all, someone must show it that even gods may know despair.” Ciella bid her temporary allies a begrudging farewell, transformed, and flew off in the direction of the far-off, heatwave-distorted blur that was Al Mamoon.
Whatever uneasiness the Agito left behind her, the minutes that followed did not. Dust devils and cactus were nothing new to the Sandswept Sky, but when Midna’s intrigue prompted her comrades to look out across the desert, they wound up echoing her bemusement. Had there always been cacti so close, and didn’t those plumes of sand seem oddly stronger than usual? Band’s eyes narrowed as he took in his team’s surroundings. As much as he wanted to take it easy, he hadn’t been able to get comfortable out here, and a professional detective couldn’t just switch off his instincts, either. He’d been watching enough to know that Midna’s hunch was right; these disturbances weren’t business as usual.
“Poppi,” he said suddenly. “You’ve got good eyes, right? Any chance you can tell what’s goin’ on out there?”
After taking a moment to zoom and refocus her optics, Poppi kept her expression as neutral as she could. “Poppi not want alarm everyone, but there probable trouble approaching.”
“Trouble? Whaddya mean, what kind?” Band asked as he rose to his feet, reasonably alarmed despite Poppi’s disclaimer.
“Poppi is detecting numerous creatures incoming, like cross between cactus and reptile. Also see sand kicked up by multiple underground entities. Further details Poppi cannot make out, but sand trail consistent with jaw fish friends encounter en route to dessert village Parnasse.”
“That ain’t good,” Skull remarked. The commotion had drawn the Phantom Thieves over from where they rested, and while still clothed in their civilian attire for now, the imminent danger left them ready to switch gears into combat mode at any second. Just about everyone beneath Sectonia’s crystal began making preparations for a fight. Skull his head and groaned, “Why they gotta come after us now? Haven’t we dealt with enough crap today already?”
Poppi tilted her head and put a finger to her cheek. “Could be due to giant monster disturbing area. Reacting to dark wave, energy fluctuation, or maybe just chance for food.”
“That not important right now, meh!” Tora yelped. “With biggy big pit behind us, our back to wall, and friends have nowhere to run! How long ‘til monsters get here, Poppi?”
“Based on current speed, we have only few minutes,” she told the group, her expression cloudy.
Joker crossed his arms. “Moogle!” One of the faerie-koalas appeared in front of him, and the Thieves’ ringleader wasted no time laying the situation out. “We’re about to be attacked. Is there any way the airship could pick up the pace?”
“H-huh!? Oh!” The moogle nearly panicked, but managed to swallow her nerves. “I’ll go over and tell them. Just hang tight, guys!”
A nail-biting minute dragged by as the monsters grew closer and closer. As they closed the distance, more of the Seekers could get a good look at them, or at least the ones above ground. An entire pack of Sabogar were headed the heroes’ way at a gallop, thorns sharp and red eyes bright with hunger. With them were two fearsome, draconic Saboquill that flew at such a low altitude that their tailfruit scraped grooves in the sand for their pack to follow. As if one squadron of carnivorous plants wasn’t enough, a second buzzed along over the earth nearby, consisting of a few Piximi escorting a lone Florami, all of them a strange combination of serpent, dragonfly, and orchid that looked as majestic as they did dangerous. Of course, given whatever lurked beneath the sand, the Spectrobes were still only the tip of the iceberg. As everyone’s tension and impatience mounted, his own not least of all, Joker couldn’t help but want to call out again. Just as he opened his mouth, however, Poppi pointed to the sky. “Look!”
Those already scanning the sky to the south for any sign of rescue followed her finger to see a dark dot approaching fast, difficult at first to discern from the darkening sky if not for the triple corona of light behind it. Palpable relief spread across the group as the Virgin Victory blazed toward them at full throttle, Tora going so far as to topple over from the release of tension. No matter how capable his team might be, this was a bad situation that they did not want to fight on the enemy’s terms, but now backup had arrived.
The ship descended over Hollow Heights, slowing down until it came to a stop above everyone. At first Tora thought it was going to land in order to pick everyone up, but he quickly noticed that the fin on its underside rendered that impossible. “Do they expect us to fly up there?” he wondered aloud, his nerves beginning to show as his gaze flipped between the Virgin Victory and the wave of monsters quickly getting too close for comfort.
Then four figures appeared on the edge of the ship’s upper deck. Tora squinted to try and see, but before he could make anything out they jumped down. All four landed together, with their leader a sight for sore eyes. “Vandham!” Tora and Poppi cried together. With him were Shovel Knight, Asbestos, and of course, Wonder Red.
“Ey, kids!” Vandham grinned. “Love to catch up an’ all, but it looks like we’re on a tight schedule, so ‘ere!” He cracked open a metal case and laid it on the ground, revealing a number of futuristic-looking badges. “Everyone ‘urry an’ grab one, and we’ll beam ya up!”
Neither Tora nor Poppi moved to take one, instead allowing the others to go. “We can just fly!” the Nopon explained. As he looked between the other members of the rescue team, his attention predictably landed on Asbestos. For a moment he stared at her in confusion, but what he was looking at quickly dawned on her. “Oh, you lizard girl! Never seen one before, meh.”
Asbestos looked like she wanted nothing more than to punt him. “Huh? You some kinda stupid, pal? Why doncha take a pictcha, it’s last loahngah.”
Before Tora could reply, the ground nearby erupted. A Molduga emerged from the ground in a huge blast of sand, well ahead of the other monsters. Tora yelped, scrambling to ready his Drill Shield, as the boast threw itself toward the assembled heroes. Asbestos, however, charged right back. “Tch!” Asbestos spat, clenching her teeth as she hefted her own massive shield. “SCREW OAHFF!” Shield met Molduga jaw in a tooth-rattling collision, but before the monster’s momentum could push it through, the impact triggered the shield’s hidden mechanism. It retaliated with a massive outward explosion, dealing all the Molduga’s damage right back to it. With a guttural howl it flipped end over end before the heroes’ awestruck eyes and slammed down with its back on the sand, its little legs flailing helplessly in the air.
From the point where it landed, the land suddenly teemed with sandworms. Before the Seekers could face the new threat, Shovel Knight stepped forward. “I shall handle this!” he declared, moving in with his shovel in hand. “Go! We canst already warp back up as needed!” As he ran he deftly plunged his spade into the ground again and again, flipping sand worms from the earth like a teenager would flip burgers. None could so much as touch him.
The cactus monsters bore down on the heroes next, but Vandham did not seem concerned. “Yeah, g’wan!” he told everyone as he pulled twin hand scythes from his belt. “If you wanna knock a few ‘eads together I won’t stop ya, but we got things taken care of down ‘ere ‘til everyone’s aboard!”
Band nodded and swiped a badge. “Got it. I’ll leave it to y’all then.” Barely had he clipped the thing on before he disappeared in a beam of light, teleported to safety inside the Virgin Victory. Peacock followed suit, and the Phantom Thieves not far behind. The Scout hurried to do the same, but Braum took a moment to lay an encouraging hand on Tharja’s shoulder and urge her to escape along with him.
Tora and Poppi, however, lingered. While they trusted Vandham, they couldn’t bear the thought of witnessing another heroic sacrifice. They nodded at one another, then ran to their friend’s side. “We leave when you do!” the Nopon declared.
“Roger, roger!”
Vandham gave a booming laugh. “You’re on, pipsqueaks!”
In the end, though, the dynamic duo had little to worry about. Only a frantic few moments were spent fighting before everyone got aboard the Virgin Victory, so both the rescue team and Tora and Poppi soon joined them. As the ship lifted up into the sky with the Seekers on deck, it left what remained of the monsters behind, with only the fliers a potential threat. Even those became a non-issue when the Virgin Victory got going, cruising across the sunset desert.
“Welcome aboard,” the voice of the captain greeted them. “It looks like we caught you all in the nick of time. Good show getting everyone out of there in one piece. Feel free to peruse the ship as we make our way to our destination, I daresay its air-conditioned interior would interest you all.” Nelson cleared his throat over the intercom. “The recon teams have informed us about a settlement known as Gerudo Town to the east, which is where we are headed for maintenance overnight, as putting the Virgin Victory into overdrive to reach you in time was not without its costs. While there are rather strict rules about who may enter, it is a secure area where we will be able to rest, repair, and refuel.”
As the intercom cut off, Band sighed. “Well, dunno if I like the sound of the whole ‘strict rules’ thing, but it beats roughin’ it out in the desert, or openin’ up any cans of worms in Al Mamoon.” He made his way over to the door leading inside, eager for some air conditioning. “Hooh. I could use some quiet nights with quiet stars. Take it easy, folks. See y’all in a bit.” With that the Seekers could disperse throughout the Virgin Victory, and get a feel for the ship that would no doubt play a large part in the adventure yet to come.
Ms Fortune
Location: Deep Blue Seaside - Limsa Lominscuttle Town Level 9 Nadia (15/90) Word Count: 1639
Nadia winced as Ace flinched under her touch, not realizing that she’d actually laid hands on one of the sunburns she alluded to. “”Oh, ow, sorry,” she murmured in sympathy. With the Cadet tough as nails and cheery of disposition, however, he was back to laughing in no time. While Nadia had no clue what Carapaceons were and their purported attempt to bring Ace into the fold sounded rather alarming, he didn’t seem that concerned about the experience, so she opted not to pry.
When the monster hunter mentioned loot, however, she was all ears, and despite the copious amount of treasure stashed in her new bag the feral trotted after him with bright eyes. “Nyaow we’re talkin’! Ya mean ya actually went and found real buried treasure? That’s a claws for celebration if I’ve ever heard one, nyeheh!” Her fishtail swished back and forth in excitement as she bent over the trove with him. When Ace unveiled his haul, Nadia could scarcely believe her eyes. “Holy cow, are those all real pearls!?” he breathed, utterly gobsmacked and practically drooling with greed. And Ace was just offering them to her!? She couldn’t do much more than squeak out a helpless laugh. “You’re crazy! In my world, a haul like this’d leave you set for life! Or bump ya right up to the tippity-top of the mafia’s hit list, more likely…” she cleared her throat and composed herself, holding up a hand of denial as she averted her gaze. “Nah dude, it’s all yours,” she told him, as much as it hurt to say. “Finders keepers, right? Got enough goodies burnin’ a hole in my pocket. If ya don’t want it, maybe ya oughta split the proceeds across the whole group so we’re better prepared goin’ forward, or somethin’. Spurread the love, y’know.”
That said, Ace had plans for at least one of the treasures. He offered her a gorgeous necklace, its flawless spiral shell almost like sapphire, as blue and brilliant as the glittering sea beside them. Despite what she’d just said, Nadia was beyond tempted by what she saw as the best bauble in the whole hoard. Besides, this came as a particular gift from Ace, right? That gave it sentimental value. After a scant second or two of convincing herself she allowed herself to be swayed, and with a resigned grin Nadia accepted the pendant. “It is my color, after all,” she joked as she hung it around her neck. “One hell of a gift, huh? Guess I’ve got to give ya somethin’ in return~”
Wearing a mischievous smile, the feral made her move. She stepped real close, stood on her tiptoes, and smacked the big goof with a kiss on the cheek. When the deed was done she bumped shoulders with him playfully, just as they had before departing for naval warfare the day before.
After that it took Ace a moment to recover, but even then he barely got two words out before Sakura and Karin’s duel came to its thrilling conclusion. Ace got one last look at Nadia’s gleeful grin before she turned around to lead the way back toward the others. She’d been meaning to watch their fight at rapt attention the whole time she could, taking notes the whole time that she might be able to use to improve her own fighting ability, but in the end other matters just happened to get in the way. Oh well, Nadia thought, nothing close to regret in her heart for what just transpired. “Good stuff ya two!” she called to the street fighters as she walked over to rejoin the main group. From what she’d seen just now and in the course of the team’s campaign so far, Nadia really didn’t relish her chances if she ever were to come up against Sakura for whatever reason. In terms of raw power and defense the well-trained martial artist had her beat, but hey, maybe the sheer dishonesty of Nadia’s unrelenting and unpredictable offense would turn the tables. Either way, the feral was happier than ever that Sakura -and now Karin, too- was on her side.
After arriving Nadia took a seat beside Ace among the group, looking terribly smug about her pretty new necklace. It looked like the Koopas had given the new mage Rubick a crash course in spirits while she hadn’t been paying attention. Even if the arcanist didn’t look super trustworthy at first glance, she figured that by now he must have an idea of the caliber of the group he’d be up against if he started causing trouble, so she wasn’t going to worry about it. What worried her more was what he, and by extension all her other new friends, would be up against as their adventure continues. If the Orphan of Kos was just the third of thirteen big, bad bosses, it was only going to get rougher from here on it. Speaking of looks though, Nadia noticed for the first time since her arrival that Bowser seemed a little different. In fact, he looked a lot more like his old self, without all the strange proportional distortions caused by a somewhat carefree attitude toward fusion. She nodded her approval. “Lookin’ good, boss man!”
Geralt then came her way, which sort of caught Nadia by surprise. While their team-up attacks worked out pretty well against the Harbor Demon and the brutal third round of Master Hand’s Trial of Purity, they hadn’t really spoken much outside of combat. That just meant, of course, that a welcome from him was extra special, and Nadia returned his cordiality. “Heya!” Since he approached her she then expected him to continue, but instead he just looked at her in a pointed, rather intimidating way. Nadia’s ears flattened instinctively. He continued to speak, and while his words were pleasant enough his question came across as oddly loaded. Nadia, confused by his mixed signals and not exactly putting two and two together as to what he was getting at, fumbled her response like a dolt. “...Haha, yeah!” While she tried to laugh it off, she got the impression that whatever this was, it wasn’t over.
In desperate search of an out, she turned her attention back to Karin and Sakura. Miss Ringlets seemed to have her hands -and head- full as she attempted to come to grips with the fractured state of the world. Hearing Karin bemoan all the property and servants and orbital weapons and collectible cars struck Nadia as funny in a mildly sadistic sort of way. “She’s definitely someone I would steal from,” she muttered to herself. Always a pleasure to see a spoiled brat get humbled. Pretty damn hard to feel bad for her when she’s still living so large, too. Her brow furrowed as she ran those thoughts back. Then again, she did all this just to thank us. I’m kinda being a bitch. Karin went away, but Nadia resolved to be friendlier to her when she returned.
Now that the show was over and everyone was together, it was getting to be about the time to bid the beach farewell. It had been wonderful, a much-needed breath of fresh air in paradise after yesterday’s horrors, but after having their fill of sand, surf, and sun, most everyone felt like a change of pace. Despite Karin’s catered feast stomachs were beginning to rumble again, even for the likes of the elegant Princess Peach. She clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Well then! How about we head to dinner? Nadia, do you know the way there?”
As a bunch of eyes turned her way Nadia scratched her head, unable to suppress a bashful smile. “Eheh, ah, not really actually.”
“Where were you thinking of going?” Ishizaki asked, helpful as ever. When supplied with an answer, he provided the Seekers and their guests with the directions they needed. As it turned out, Rum for Ale could be found in the southern shore district, among the colorful collection of homes and businesses known as Mist. After thanking him, and asking him to let Karin know when she came back, Peach set off at the head of the group in search of fine Cuban cuisine.
Rum for Ale took the form of a unique building, in which all the kitchens, pantries, and other facilities encircled a central courtyard. There, with ivy-covered walls and fragrant flowers on all sides, the customers could dine open to the air in the shade of palm trees. It was very pretty and, as the Seekers saw when escorted inside, largely unoccupied. Nadia couldn’t even guess as to why since the place seemed so nice and came recommended by the Half-Genie Hero herself, but she wasn’t about to question her luck, either. The staff allowed the group to put four tables together, and while the heroes went about trying to find the best arrangement, the staff rolled out the heavy-duty stool for Bowser and the high seats for Junior and Hatty. When the waiter apologized that the wait time for food might be a while on account of a staff shortage, Cerberus for some reason thought it would be fun to offer to help out as waitresses. While a little dubious, the manager needed the help given this party size, and the three were at least dressed for it, so he accepted their aid and the enthusiastic Triple Demon sprang into action.
In short order the tablecloths were spread, everyone found somewhere at the tables to sit, menus got circulated, and the servers readied to notebook to take the group’s drink orders. Whether or not Cerberus knew how to read was a separate issue, but it was hard to deny their spirit.
The Prisoner found Albedo to be an altogether manageable burden, helped not just by his slender build but also by the fact that he wasn’t just dead weight. Thanks in large part to Frisk’s single-minded determination, it seemed as though the duo successfully retrieved the alchemist from what would otherwise be a snowy grave before he succumbed to either suffocation or the cold. Wary of any possible pursuers, the Prisoner steered the others well clear of where the avalanche came to rest in its terrifying enormity, burying both the battlefield and any leftover would-be ambushers beneath tons upon tons of crunchy, chunky snow. When it became clear that no snowmen remained to challenge them the three could slow down, the frigid alpine air burning the throats of those who still possessed the ability to hyperventilate.
Not far behind them trailed Linkle, jogging along with an uncharacteristic solemn expression on her face. Despite all her power, she hadn’t anticipated that the tremors created by Bad Mr. Frosty’s ground pounds would actually sweep her off her feet. She picked herself up from those quakes just in time to see the fate in store for Albedo, and after that nothing else seemed to matter. In her mad dash to reach and save him she too fell victim to the polar landslide that engulfed him. Tumbled end over end to the point of total disorientation and deposited upside down, Linkle came to in the same terrible predicament that her new friend faced. Unlike him, however, she felt not the slightest trace of cold–only the anger and desperation to act. So too did she possess the physical strength and the elemental magic to break herself loose from the snow entombing her, and once back on her feet the Skullgirl turned her tranquil fury on Bad Mr. Frosty, far colder and deadlier than the thuggish snowman could ever be, and alongside the Prisoner she took him down.
It came as a relief to everyone that Albedo seemed more or less okay. While he’d lost his new murky green overcoat in the chaos, leaving him a mess of caked snow and mussed hair, he was free of any cuts, stab wounds, or broken bones courtesy of wood or stone debris caught in the avalanche. When Frisk sacrificed their coat for him he gave a slow, deliberate nod of gratitude, although trying to pull it tight around him to preserve his heat didn’t accomplish much. “I’m afraid it’s too small to do me much good,” he remarked matter-of-factly. “I would rather you keep it for yourself than risk exposure for little return. I would hazard a guess that I sustained a minor concussion at most. After all my time on Dragonspine I am somewhat used to the cold myself, and seldom did I wear an extra coat, anyway.” With the same measured stiffness he patted the kid on the head, his neutral expression saying that yes, he really would be fine.
The other two exchanged a few words, including introductions. From the looks of it, the Prisoner would be happy to join the merry little band as they made their way around the mountain to the fishing village, and naturally Frisk welcomed him into the fold. Albedo didn’t seem too elated, although by now his previous companions could assume that to just be par for the course. Instead he considered the new partnership with a pragmatic air, as if it presented some sort of complication. “An interesting choice considering that you don’t know our intentions, or where we’re headed,” he said after a moment. “But since you lent us your aid, we are in your debt, and far be it from me to deny you.” He nodded his affirmation, but did not extend a hand for the dead man to shake.
Then the alchemist tried to stand, but the way he wobbled after gaining his feet left a lot to be desired, as if his wipeout in the avalanche knocked his sense of balance out of him. He held out his arms to steady himself in place, breathing in and out slowly to maintain control. “Excuse me,” he said, his look apologetic as he regarded the others. “I seem to be…a little off-kilter. Perhaps I could trouble you to take the lead…as we continue.”
Ahead of them lay the devastation of the avalanche, which took up pretty much the entire width of the shallow river valley the team had been following northwest before. A far cry from the pristine smoothness of the open fields, it was an absolute mess of disturbed snow and debris. Entire pieces of splintered trees jutted from its misshapen surface at odd angles, and of the valley pines only the pointy green tops poked out. Still, the forces at play left the snow hard-packed, so the travelers could walk on and climb it just like any other ground, and the elevation change also gave them the option of an easy shortcut across the layer-cake hills that originally hemmed in the valley to begin with. Albedo followed the others with a little difficulty at first, but he composed himself bit by bit as they went along, and soon enough the formidable alchemist seemed to be right as rain. Whether or not his companions still worried about him, of course, was another matter, and while neither Linkle nor Prisoner might care about the cold, Frisk certainly did. Once started, shivers were hard to stop, and no amount of conversation over the course of a half-hour or so would halt the cold’s relentless, grasping progress through the bodies of the travelers.
As such, when they spotted a telltale trail of smoke rising skyward from a site among the conifers a little higher up on Dragonspine, the groups concern’s made the chance for shelter and warmth made it an appealing prospect despite the detour. From the hills, however, they could also trace the path of the icy river onward, snaking through the mountain’s sparsely forested foothills toward a bay on the northeastern shore, where the faintest suggestions of a gray-brown township could be glimpsed through squinted eyes. The four found themselves faced with a choice: persevere and stay the course for their destination, or seek a reprieve on Dragonspine itself to make sure that everyone in the expedition could continue free of worry.
Location: Sandswept Sky Level 9 Tora (219/90) Level 9 Poppi (219/90) Level 7 Big Band (47/70) Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, Raiden’s @XoXKieroBombXoX, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, the Scout, Peacock, Tharja, Ciella Word Count: 1690
Despite Tora’s proclamation, there would be no such thing as getting comfortable out on the scorching desert sands under the ruthless glare of the sun, especially after an irate Big Band rolled his eyes and moved to deprive the incorrigible Nopon of his shade. With the sun well into its descent its rays weren’t as intense as they would be at noon, but the Sandswept Sky had made the most of an entire day to soak up its warmth and create a layer of sweltering residual heat, so there was no relief in sight. Tora quickly found out that Poppi had no intention of exhausting her entire ether supply in a bid to keep her Masterpon cool, and that he would receive no such preferential treatment from the team’s other purveyors of cold either, so as far as he was concerned things were looking grim.
Fortune was still smiling on Tora and his merry band, however, and Sectonia’s bottomless bag of tricks saved the day once again. She conjured a handful of huge crystals overhead, covering a wide area in shade. What light filtered through the magical gemstone lattice turned all the colors of the rainbow, while the heat got absorbed by the crystal above. The desert’s residual heat still smoldered around them, but with the sun effectively blocked it was a lot better. Poppi, the Ice Antlions, and Goemon had less heat to contend with as well, so their efforts to beat the heat went a lot farther. In its shelter the victorious heroes could actually take a load off and wind down from their unforgettable experience.
From the looks of it, Therion planned to stick with the Seekers, after all. While he didn’t really know the man yet, or what he could do to help out other than press buttons, Tora was glad to have him. In the two days he, Poppi, and the others had been traipsing across the Sandswept Sky, the position of stoic, pragmatic rogue had gone unfulfilled, courtesy of the Courier’s sudden, inexplicable departure. Of course, they had the Phantom Thieves, but their brand of rebellious and stylish didn’t quite fit the bill. With the gunslinger still nowhere to be seen after all this time, not even showing up at the eleventh hour to save the day during the biggest boss fight of Tora’s life, the Nopon couldn’t help but think he was gone for good. So Therion was welcome, and the rotund engineer resolved to do better by this man than the last.
The thief inquired about payment, a subject near and dear to Tora’s heart. He had a lot to say on the subject, so much so that by the time he’d inhaled enough to fill his lungs, Midna cut in front of him. She mentioned Princess Peach as a potential source of remuneration, after which Tora launched into speech. “Tora sure hope so, meh! We out here risking life and limb, burning alive, freezing solid, flying around, fighting big bugs and small bugs and bomby bugs and all sorts of horrible rubbish. Tora should be rolling in cash!” He flopped back down on his back, only to get nudged in his side by Poppi. “Uh, friends too, meh.”
Poppi nodded slowly. Given everything that happened, even an Artificial Blade feeling weary wasn’t out of the question. “Back in Alrest, our group get money by completing quests, slaying monsters, salvaging, and selling collectibles. But here, we not really have time for anything but main mission.” After seating herself by Tora, she crossed her arms atop her knees. “Back in Al Mamoon, we only had time for one quest, and other than that, best we got was loot from mountain catacombs.”
“Mm-hm. Couldn’t buy much.” Tora looked sad. “Meh-meh. Usually, we very thorough. Scrape every corner for goody-goodies. But this team not have time for picking places clean, and it job of tank to be up in front, meh.” He sighed. “Once Tora get paid, first thing to do is eat own weight in Tasty Sausage!”
His companion shook her head with a wry smile. “If Masterpon overstuff himself, all that food could go to waste, and then Masterpon right back at square one.” She tilted her head a little and looked at Therion. “That remind Poppi, though. One silver lining is that in both places we save so far, everyone so grateful that they give us food and shelter for free. Maybe Validar in Al Mamoon do same.”
Until now Band had been sitting nearby, content to listen to the others talk while he fanned himself with his hat, but now he broke his silence. “Hmph,” he grunted, his brows skeptical. “Somethin’ tells me Validar ain’t gonna be as accommodatin’. You mighta saved those other places, but the big grub wasn’t goin’ anywhere up on that mountain. Way he likely sees it, we were just cleanin’ up the mess we made. Man’s too deliberate, if you get what I’m sayin’.”
He glanced at Ciella, but the rabbit-eared archer just shrugged. “Don’t kid yourselves. For unleashing such a threat upon the Eastern Desert and endangering Al Mamoon, I’m sure he would hold you personally responsible.”
“Figures.” Band huffed. “No wonder you didn’t shoot out any of the statues up there.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “What’re you still ‘round for now the job’s done, anyhow? You ain’t plannin’ to tag along, are ya?”
Ciella snorted in indignation and looked away. “Just catching my breath before I fly back. My mission is far from over.”
“Ughhhhh,” the Nopon moaned. “Tora just want out of sandyland, meh. It feel like we here forever.”
And yet, we’ve seen so little, Band mused. This went double for him, seeing as he only joined forces with the Seekers in Al Mamoon, roughly two thirds across the Sandswept Sky from the point that the team evidently departed. This region seemed stupidly vast, ostensibly barren and inhospitable, but who knew how many more hidden temples, ancient ruins, and unfathomable secrets lay scattered across it? Just Split Mountain on its own had been like a realm unto itself, from the alpine wilderness and frosty heights above, to frozen caverns and accursed catacombs below. Just who was that giant, entombed in the ice? That big bear who slumbered in with his snout in autumnal redwood forest and his rump in winter wonderland? He remembered seeing lights in the windows of that convent, nestled as it was in the inhospitable Graveyard of the Peaks. Maybe the treasure troves Tora dreamed of did lie undisturbed in the Inner-Mountain’s dark recesses even now, their gems and baubles never to see the light of day. For Band, however, the prospect of inordinate wealth didn’t ruffle his feathers. Just the chance to do real, tangible good for the people of the world was more than he was used to, and that was what he wanted the most.
The detective evaluated the group. Able to take a break at long last, the airborne mages Midna and Sectonia could set themselves down at last, and do little more than converse as they saw fit. Now that Therion was with the group officially, he and Primrose could reconnect properly. The Phantom Thieves sat off to the side in their own little group, talking among themselves. Even with the desert heat, Skull and Panther in particular didn’t seem to mind sitting very close together indeed. Only Joker really kept quiet, though he did scratch at Mona’s ears just like a cat’s. Braum had planted his shield in the sand at an angle and reclined on its cold-enchanted surface with his arms behind his head, dozing away. When Raz mentioned a shower, Poppi offered to switch to her Water Core and douse him, which promised to leave him both clean and cool in the desert breeze. Now that he’d given his name and formally pledged his blade to the cause, Raiden received both a literal and figurative warm welcome from the others, even the Scout. When he got the chance, Band made sure to introduce himself in return. “I’m all there of the most real,” he said in customary fashion. “Big Band. You got yourself some sharp notes there, son. I’m sure we’ll play together just fine.”
“Poppi is Poppi!” the Artificial Blade told Raiden.
“Am Tora!” her Nopon creator added without sitting up.
That left just a couple others. Like Joker, Jesse remained taciturn, although not in a hostile way. Maybe she just wasn’t used to a group this big, or more likely, how strange its members were. For Band’s part, working for the Anti-Skullgirl Labs did a lot to desensitize him to colorful characters. Mao and Fox weren’t around, but with how aloof they’d been, Band wondered how soon he’d see them again. That just left Tharja, who the others had left alone with her grief–everyone except Peacock, at least. The crazy little redhead and her zany gang of minions seemed to have surrounded the dark mage with their hijinx, either trying to lift her mood or just distract her from her misery. To their credit, Tharja looked gloomy and annoyed, but not miserable, so maybe it was working. Band closed his eyes. As much as it hurt to lose Robin, he was grateful that nobody else had died over the course of the Seekers’ journey. Even Sora and Yoshitsune, gravely wounded by the Wendigo underground, were going to be okay, and Laharl didn’t seem like the type to go off and die in a blizzard. That almost everyone made it was a miracle, considering what they’d been through, and it was one for which Big Band was profoundly grateful.
“Ey, pops!”
Band opened his eyes to see Peacock standing in front of him, her mechanical arms crossed. “I told Miss Diaphanous over there you could belt out a mean tune, and wouldn’tcha know it, she wants an earful. I’ve gotten more than enough earfuls from you ovah the ears, but howsaboutcha play ‘er a li’l somethin’-somethin’, eh?”
The detective smiled as he rose to his feet, shaking the sand off. “I’d be happy to.”
Ms Fortune
Location: Deep Blue Seaside - Limsa Lominscuttle Town Level 9 Nadia (12/90) Word Count: 4518
“You’re DOG FOOD!” Flush with anger and scowling ferociously, the so-called Pirate Lord Barth clenched his teeth and began to hoist himself up over the bar.
In his single-minded fury to get at Nadia and rip her limb from limb he nearly sent the burglar’s gold-laden bag to the floor, which the indignant thief narrowly managed to yank out of the way in time. “Watch it!” he snapped as he stumbled out of his chair, his efforts to play it cool ruined. With a curled lip the man resigned himself to an ungainly barfight, which he started with a bang by kicking his barstool out of the way.
Nearby, all three of the hooligans rose from their booze-soaked table at about the same time, either eager to fight or just to follow along. The bearded cat-caller owned a hatchet slung across his back, but rather than wield it alongside Barth he just cracked his knuckles, ready to brawl.
Though the five made for an intimidating sight, especially with Barth just about to charge Nadia down like a raging bull, the feral had a more immediate problem to worry about: the oversized gecko between her and the swinging saloon doors. Her eyebrows furrowed. She’d pretended to forget about the guy whilst trading barbs with the boss, but she bet her bottom dollar he meant to grapple her from behind and hold her like firewood for Barth to hack apart. Sure enough, the creak of aged planks behind her made her cat ears twitch; there was no time to lose.
She spread her arms suddenly, unleashing a voluminous splash of blue blood that coalesced into three feline doppelgangers. Her copycats surged forward like a tidal wave, catching her foes off guard just enough that they couldn’t react in time. Barth’s wild swing cleaved straight through the first one, but it wasn’t enough to stop her, and all three mimics pounced on him in a triple tackle that knocked him right off his feet and smashed him through his lackeys’ table. All of them went down in a tremendous crash that caught the slack-jawed trio mid-rise, and in one big burst of wood chips and lifeblood the crew went down with their captain. Only the thief escaped the destruction, but with the mess in his way he had to go around.
Unfortunately, Nadia couldn’t afford to relish the havoc caused by her copycats. Right after dispatching them she’d twisted halfway around, grabbing her wrist with her other hand, then in a blast of blood launched her elbow right into the pirate Techo’s snout, aiming for the bandage. “Gyahh!” he grunted, his headlock foiled and his hands instinctively clapped on his nose. With a snarl he pulled his right back for a haymaker hook punch, but Nadia was faster. She moved in with a double claw slice, left then right, then a back-leg round that flowed smoothly into a turn kick. Her foot planted in the Techo’s belly, prompting a gasp, and with a grin on her face Nadia raised her arms for a big X-Scrape Claws to finish him off.
Her opponent had other plans. Recovering faster than she thought, he lunged forward and latched onto her forearms with his big, clammy hands, stopping her cold. He then leaned back, using his tail as a support so that he could pick up one big, muscular leg and kick her right in the ribcage. Instead, Nadia detached her arms at the biceps and headbutted the Techo right in the schnozz. “GYAHH!” He released Nadia’s arms as he stumbled backward, his hands on his poor nose again.
The feral rolled after him, sticking her arms back on as she tumbled, and flipped over to launch a point-blank Fibber Upper, propelled to new heights by her internal purr-essure. “Hasta l’away-go!” Her legs’ explosive full extension blew the Techo through the saloon doors, across the boardwalk, and into the murky seawater below.
A booming laugh reached Nadia’s ears, and in the middle of her extension she looked up to see Barth almost upon her. Though roughed-up from her doubles’ stunt earlier, he’d broken free from the mayhem and thundered across the bar toward Nadia, his axe held overhead with the murderous intent of an executioner. Her eyes went wide, and she snapped together again like a rubber band, yanking her upper half out from under him to rejoin her legs in midair. Barth’s axe came down on nothing, splitting apart several planks of the Sturmbreacher’s wooden floor but missing his target completely. “Huh!?”
“Nice try, Pirate Lard!” The big oaf rubbernecked upward, his face twisted by the transformation of gleeful assurance into angry confusion. He found Nadia clinging to the wall above the door where the momentum of her snap-back carried her, a gleeful smirk stretched ear to ear. Much to the feral’s delight, it looked like he had yet to understand her true ability, having only just come to terms with her copycats. “What, cat got your tongue?” As he lifted up his axe, Nadia kicked off the wall in a blood jet, somersaulted in midair, and landed on Barth’s face with a double stomp that bent him backward and carried him into the floor. He swung at her even still, but she was already gone, having rolled forward and sprung to her feet.
As Barth fought to get back up, frothing with both swears and spittle the whole time, Nadia got a look at how his mooks were doing. After they decked the head honcho, her copycats tried to pin her opposition down as long as they could in order to buy the original time. One lay in a puddle on the floor thanks to Barth, leaking down into the grooves between the planks, but the others managed to keep the bearded catcaller and the boozy lass down. Only the masked guy was on his feet, but his attempts to get the girl free had gotten him slapped around by her captor’s fishtail. “Ouchie!” he yelped, his palm on his stinging cheek.
“Cooooooole!” his little friend blubbered, face-down and too sloshed to do anything but struggle weakly beneath the weight of Nadia’s copycat. “I’m stuuuuuuck!”
“‘Old on, Ducky!” With his other hand the dude reached down to his pouch, from which he produced a sea-blue sphere, a little like the balls that Nadia remembered Junior tossing around. “R-roight then!” he stammered, breathing deep to center himself. “Up an’ at ‘em, Pudgy!”
He tossed the ball, and in a burst of light a big seal manifested. Nadia’s eyebrows rose. Oh no, it’s cute!. At her trainer’s behest the Sealeo shot the copycat holding the scoundrel girl down with Ice Beam, freezing it solid. “That’s it, Pudgy!” the bandit cheered. “Let’s get it off Ducky, quick now!” Together he and his Pokemon started kicking, shoving, and otherwise beating the frozen clone to get it off. It was actually kind of sweet in a way, but Nadia had already paid the pair’s antics too much attention. The bearded catcaller had fared better against his assailant. After taking a series of punishing slugs and knees his copycat had lost too much mass to sustain herself and plopped down, allowing the brigand to get back up. Now he shuffled toward her in stance, his fists raised like a boxer, and the white-haired thief strolled after him. Behind her, Barth was nearly back up, too. Nadia moved in.
She and the brigand closed the distance in a second. Knowing that she had only a couple seconds to deal with the thug before his friend joined in the fun, Nadia went low beneath his right cross. As she ducked she moved past him, slapped him in the face with her fishtail, and elbowed him in the spine. He turned with a full-force backhand, poised to knock her block off with one massive hammerfist, but Nadia popped her head up and out of the way. He followed through with a mighty hook to the feral’s ribs, and it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. “Head’s up!” She caught her head and slammed it into the brigand’s like a rock. A loud BONK rang out as both staggered, but with his temple struck versus Nadia’s parietal, the catcaller had it a lot worse.
Before she could fully recover, the thief made his move. He threw his grappling hook and ensnared Nadia’s leg, which he yanked out from under her using both hands. She went down hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs. As he dragged her across the floor Nadia passed the leftovers of a copycat, which she strained to reach out for and absorb. The clever thief slung his rope over a hook hanging from the ceiling, coiled the line, then used his body weight to hoist Nadia into the air, where she dangled by one leg. Just as she got her breath back she received a sharp kick to the back of her head, hard enough to prompt a grimace and screw her eyes shut. “Oww!” When she opened one she got an upside-down look at both the brigand and Barth storming her way, axes in hand. The boss shoved his lackey aside, however, and closed in as he wound up a timber-felling chop.
“Oh, crumbs.” She detached her leg at the thigh and dropped to the ground just as Barth swung. His mighty overswing left him off balance, and as Nadia came down hardened her ears to stick in the floor. From there she rotated at the neck to pull off a Wheel of Fortune to cut into barth’s belly with tail and talon alike. “Spin cycle!” She ended with a flourish, holding herself up by her hands with her stump aimed behind her as a thruster and her other leg extended. “Off your feet!”
The sweep to Barth’s knee dropped him to the floor for a third time, where he landed hard with a garbled howl. As he fell Nadia rose, a new mimic leg growing to replace that limb that was still tied up. Unfortunately, the brigand cut short her cool pose as he surged in. He planted his foot hard enough to shake the floorboards, but instead of coming down, his axe went low. “Agh, kitty litter!” Nadia cursed when the blow opened her up, bloodying her good leg. I hate blocking! I hate blocking! The brigand swung upward, replacing the axe on his back as he kicked her. He continued the combo with a burst of body blow and ended with an uppercut. After that he reached back and pulled out his axe for a massive overhead chop, but in the clarity that accompanied her numbness, Nadia got an inkling that his finisher couldn’t be true. She let out a burst of blood and backdashed out of harm’s way to land on top of the bar. Determined to not give her a moment to breathe, the thief sliced at her calves with a dagger, but Nadia cartwheeled out of the way along the countertop. “Nuh uh!” Her hand closed around the neck of a beer bottle, and the next second it hurled the brigand’s way. To the feral’s chagrin it missed, but there were plenty more where those came from.
“Drinks on me!” As the two men chased after her she absolutely pelted them with bottles. They pushed through, shielding their eyes from shattered glass and fiery grog, until Nadia switched things up by hurling her own hardened fishtail like a big battle-axe of her own. The sharp-eyed thief ducked, but the brigand took it to the chest and bowled over backward to land on and crash through a stool. “Nyahaha, can’t hold your liquor!” Soaked in alcohol and spiked by splinters, he attempted to rise, but Barth stepped on his chest as he made a beeline for his nemesis.
At some point the thief had retrieved his grappling hook. Now it whirled around in his grasp, primed for another expert throw, but to Barth it was just in the way. “MOVE!” He elbowed the thief into the bar and stomped past, only for his underling to spring toward him and jam his dagger right into the ringleader’s gut. “GRAGH!” Barth howled, his rancor changing targets in an instant. “WHAT THE HELL!?”
The sunset light of Galeem burned like coal in the thief’s eyes. “Don’t you ever touch me, you cretin! You hear me!?”
As the two began their own fight Nadia crouched down on the bar, using the chance to take a deep breath. “So much for our honorable thief duel later,” she murmured. Still, if not exactly what she planned, she’d avoided hitting her fellow burglar on purpose, so this worked out well enough. Her break came to an abrupt end when an Ice Beam blasted her back off the bar and froze her to the shelves behind. “Oof!” she gasped, her eyes on Ducky and Cole as they approached. The girl swayed drunkenly, but she held a table leg almost as big as she was like a greatclub, and Cole wielded twin chair legs as he stood by Pudgy the Sealeo. Nadia smiled. “Ice to meetcha.”
“Loikewise!” Cole chucked his table legs like throwing knives. Nadia rolled her head from one side to the other to avoid them, then shot it in a spurt of blood. The sight of the head flying toward him, mouth wide open and fangs exposed, shocked Cole so badly he couldn’t move. “Wot the!? Gaaaagh!”
“Omnomnomnom!” Nadia’s head darted around his body, biting again and again.
“Oogh, ow, eek!” Cole squealed. “Ducky, you gotta help me! Ducky!”
The girl shambled toward him, lifting up her table leg. “...I got it. Hold…still!”
Her friend’s eyes went wide. “W-wait, no!”
BONK!
As Cole fell like a sack of bricks, Ducky bent over him. “Did…did I get it? Hic!”
“Oof, right on the noggin!” Nadia’s head remarked cheerfully, very much not gotten. Frightened, Ducky lifted her impromptu bludgeon for another swing, but Nadia’s head rolled back. From her neck flew a spray of blue blood, right into Ducky’s eyes. The girl yelped and fell backward thanks to her oversized weapon, which left just one problem.
“Ee!” Pudgy grumbled as she flopped toward Nadia’s head, trying to squash it. With a yowl the feral flipped her head upside down, and using her ears like tiny legs she took off running. The bizarre chase went on for a couple moments, beneath tables and chairs, as Nadia worked her body free from the ice. Finally she broke out, the crash loud enough to get Pudgy’s attention. “Ee?” Barely had the Pokemon looked over, however, then the body landed on her flabby back and bounced off her like an exercise ball. “Oh!” she grunted, turning back to see Nadia’s head and body reunited once more. The feral dashed in, but when Pudgy scrunched up to block, she got thrown instead. Nadia wrapped the Sealeo up in a yarn ball of muscle fiber, spinning her around and around.
A few feet away, Cole and Ducky both sat up, ready to vent their frustrations. Before they could start arguing, their eyes settled on the giant ball of blue tissue rolling straight toward them, and in comedic fashion they grabbed onto one another while screaming. Nadia’s ball rolled them over and exploded through the bar, where it unwound to leave the catgirl back in one piece and the odd pair in a dazed heap with their Sealeo.
“And that seals the deal, whew!” Nadia sighed, stretching before she pulled out and flicked away a wood chip. She spotted the thief’s bag on the counter, full of her stolen gold, and scooped it up to wear over her shoulder. Only then did she become aware of labored breathing and turn to see Barth, supporting himself on the bar with one hand while the other staunched a stab wound in his midsection. Behind him a body lay in two halves on the floor, half-dissolved into ash in a pool of blood. Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a real vicious sonuva bitch, huh, Barf?”
The so-called Pirate Lord chuckled darkly, his bloody teeth bared in a gruesome grin. Nearby the bearded brigand pulled himself up too. Nadia circled toward the door, unsteady on her mimic leg. Can’t leave my real leg behind she realized. Or my tail, for that matter. She scanned the floor but found no sign, even when she gave a mental signal for it to kick a little.
“Lookin’ for this, ya freak?”
Nadia locked onto Barth to find him holding her twitching leg on the counter. With one giant mitt he held it down, and with the other he held up his bloody axe. “You…”
“I figured it out,” he growled. “All yer bits are still alive, wherever they might be.” The man lifted his axeblade. “Which means ye can still feel THIS!”
Fear curdled in Nadia’s stomach. He was going to chop her, just like Dahlia did, and she was too far away to do a thing about it. “Dammit!” In an instant her blood pressure maxed out, and she remembered her idea from earlier. Now’s as good a time as any.
“DIE!” In a blast of blood she launched her arm, connected by cords of muscle fiber. Her punch hurtled across the room like a miniature rocket, missed Barth’s ugly mug, and shattered a bottle on the shelf behind him. Nadia grit her teeth, despair threatening to well up inside her as she dreaded the all-too-familiar agony soon to come. Of course she wasn’t going to hit the first time she tried this; why didn’t she practice earlier!?
But wait. The combination of her vehement outburst, plus the unexpected projectile, had given Barth pause. He thought her long-range punch was going to hit him, and when it missed, the big lout couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see what it hit. Now’s still my chance! Nadia seized the shattered glass, ignoring how it pierced her, and snapped back on her arm. In an instant her limb retracted, pulling along with it a fistfill of glass that sliced through Barth’s face as it went. A wordless scream erupted from him along with the blood, and his hands went to his face.
Nadia grimaced as she retracted her arm, pulling her leg through and reabsorbing her last copycat puddle as she did. No matter how bad a man Barth might be, the grisly wound turned her stomach, and his cries of agony chilled her spine. Regret gnawed at her insides as she searched for justification. There was no time, she thought. It was my only choice. He probably deserves it. But it didn’t make her feel any better, and seeing the look on the faces of Barth’s crew made it worse. With her ears flattened in horror and her mind racing, Nadia didn’t hear the creak of footsteps behind her. Not until the knife pierced her back.
“Huuuuh…” she gasped, eyes wide as shock and pain filled her body. Her vision lost focus, and her head lost forward as shadow crept across her face. “Hagh…hagh…”
Behind her, Red Band Rita bared her teeth in an ugly, crooked smile. “‘Ow’s it feel? ‘Matey’…” Her hand came to rest on Nadia’s shoulder, sliding up toward the neck. “Me carvin’ knife. Special made for works of art, but it cuts up mouthy li’l wenches just as nice, heheh.”
Up toward the bar, Barth took his hands off his face. He was still bleeding from a half-dozen scars and breathing heavily, but for all his wailing he seemed strangely composed. “Rita,” he rumbled, pulling out a cloth to wipe his head with. “What’re ye doin’ here?”
“Just settlin’ a score,” the pirate woman told him. Taking in the state of the Sturmbreacher, she narrowed her eye. “Don’t tell me this scrawny whelp did all this?”
Barth spat out a wad of blood. “She’s got powers,” he growled. “Copies ‘erself, and splits ‘erself apart.”
Rita smirked. “Hm. Maybe ‘er soul will fetch us a good price, eh?” She shook Nadia roughly by the knife in her back. “Once the bitch ‘urries up an’ dies.”
“Heheheh…”
Rita blinked. “...What?”
“Heeheehee,” Nadia giggled, fighting through the pain. “Man…that hurt…” Her head rotated around to stare Rita square in her flabbergasted eye. Her hands softly closed around the pirate’s. “Well,” she whispered, her left eye ablaze with blue light. “Maybe a whittle bit…”
Rita reeled back in shock. “What the-!”
A beam of radiant azure water burst out from Nadia’s eye, blowing first through her eyepatch, then through her would-be killer. It blazed through the Sturmbreacher’s saloon doors, along the piers, and above dark waters. Rita screamed, but the sound was drowned out in the torrent, and a moment later she was gone. Only her forearm remained, which Nadia dropped to melt away on the floor as her head spun back around. Behind her, the late afternoon light silhouetted a very angry cat, her left eye still aglow with oceanic power.
“H-huh!?” Barth backed into the bar, aghast. His crew members shrank away behind the furniture. “Stop! Please! W-what are you!? Y-you lot, get ‘er!”
But nobody did. Nadia took a long, slow deep breath and dropped her new bag to the ground. “I’m…” Her eyes lingered on the gold that glittered within, the cause of all this trouble. The reason why people thought it was okay to murder her in cold blood, Galeem’s influence or not. It was stolen treasure that brought on the wrath of the Medici Mafia too, that led to the deaths of her family, and almost to hers. People like this, like Barth and Rita, or Lorenzo and Dahlia, so consumed by greed that any tragedy was excusable…how much blood was on their hands? How could they ever be forgiven? In their world, only two options existed: kill, or be killed. Nadia’s eyes opened.
“I’m…still alive.”
The sky was beginning to turn pink and orange, and the sun’s slow but steady slide brought it closer and closer to the horizon that lay across told depths of water. All along the ocean waves, but especially across the gorgeous shallows of Heaven’s Edge, the water glinted with reflected luster. It was a dazzling sight, and all the more wonderful that it came as the send-off for a perfect afternoon of enjoyment and relaxation. Whether spent stuffing oneself at the buffet, luxuriating in tropical drinks, engaging in various competitions, exploring the beautiful surroundings, building sand castles, chatting together, or just dozing the hours away on a beach chair in the sun’s immaculate radiance, a good time was had by all. Even the fighters between the street fighters, or between Cerberus and Link, did little to spoil the experience. Moreover, while originally meant to be a time for peace and privacy for the weary Seekers, the time spent at the Kanzuki Beachfront Estate ended up introducing them to a couple promising new faces. Cerberus, Rubick, Susie, and of course the illustrious Karin herself found themselves welcome among the heroes who’d made the Deep Blue Seaside a safer place.
While the matches between Sakura and Karin had yet to conclude, they ultimately occupied only a small fraction of the beach, a sense of tranquility reigned. Everyone got a chance to sit back and breathe easy, recounting the afternoon’s events with Peach and Hat Kid now that the two had arrived from Alcamoth. As the Seekers talked over a fresh round of smoothies and virgin pina coladas from the bar, they got a chance to see something interesting on the water: an incredibly huge vessel of red metal cruising along the water, suspended beneath a a live, balloon-like sea creature of even greater side. It sailed at a leisurely pace for Limsa Lominscuttle Town, bound for its main harbor to make port. Here and there the more astute of them could catch some chatter from passers-by, and glean a sense of the general excitement that the Argentum Trade Guild had come to do business in Limsa once more. At least, when the combatants weren’t calling their attacks, that is.
Not long after the merchant mega-ship passed, the Seekers spotted one last familiar face headed their way. Nadia Fortune strolled toward them across the sand, a little more tired and less exuberant than usual, but visibly none the worse for wear. Her white tank had been replaced by a deep blue tee knotted at her diaphragm, and over her shoulder was slung a teal-colored bag, the contents of which clinked softly with every step. “Heya,” she smiled softly, waving as she approached. “Miss me?”
“Hello yourself.” Peach returned the smile. “I was just wondering where you were, actually. Everything okay?”
Hatty’s eyes lit up at the sight of Nadia, and she ran over with open arms. “Hi!”
The feral knelt down to give the kid a hug. “Hi, Hatty! You feeling alright?” When the girl nodded, Nadia took off her hat to pat her head. “I’m so glad.” She rose back up to her full height and glanced at Peach. “I’m feline fine, yeah. Always nice to be missed, y’know? Plus, check this out. I’m filthy rich!”
While it wasn’t much compared to the Mushroom Kingdom treasury, Peach gave an impressed nod anyway. “Looks like you’re one lucky cat.”
“Mhm, yeah. So, what’re you all up to?”
Peach shrugged. “Nothing much. We were just starting to discuss where to go for dinner once the girls finish their little tussle, since it’s getting to be that time. Now that you’re back, I think everyone’s here, too.”
“Oh!” Nadia crossed her arms. She glanced at Rubick for a moment, but despite his arcane appearance took him to be just another new friend. “That reminds me. I heard of a place called Rum for Ale. It’s food from Cuba, wherever that is. Really flavorful, or so it’s said. My treat!”
“That sounds nice. And you’re really too kind.” Peach looked around at the rest of the group. “Any thoughts? Other ideas?”
“Whatever’s good with us!” Cerberus chorused, sharply-dressed in their newly cleaned and dried suits. Nadia couldn’t help but smile when looking their way. They’re like dog girls, how cute! she thought.
Of course, they didn’t compare to Ace. She moseyed over next to him to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Hey dude. Lookin’ a little red there.” As she took in the gathered Seekers and guests, she found herself more grateful than ever for good company. For a little while at least she’d had quite enough of going it alone.
Location: Sandswept Sky Level 9 Tora (216/90) Level 9 Poppi (216/90) Level 7 Big Band (44/70) Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Raz’s @TruthHurts22, Raiden’s @XoXKieroBombXoX, the Phantom Thieves, Braum, the Scout, Peacock, Mao, Tharja, Ciella Word Count: 1548
As weary and sore as the Seekers were, nobody planned on plumbing the depths of Hollow Heights, so they had no choice but to drag themselves up off the girders and onto terra firma once more. Part of it had bent downward but not collapsed, so after all the sand slid off into the void the team could just hike on up to the desert surface above, so long as they watched their step. The knowledge that at least part of the Sandswept Sky lay suspended on a metal floor atop untold fathoms of pitch-black space was a little disconcerting, but as long as they got away from the edge they could focus on the bigger problems at hand: the interminable vastness and untenable, searing heat of the desert itself.
Before anyone could set off anywhere they needed to cool off, at least enough to ward off heatstroke and stymie the sticky sweat that flowed so freely that it stung the eyes and made dehydration a legitimate -and dangerous- possibility. Poppi and Sectonia worked together to alleviate the heat with their elemental power. While the artificial blade channeled ether through her Ice Core to spray her Masterpon and then her allies down with frosty mist, the insect queen -as ever- deferred the work, this time to her Ice Antlions. Fox lent a hand too as best he could, calling upon Goemon to manifest chunks of ice, and Ciella certainly spared no effort cooling herself down by inundating herself in her own frigid water. Even after wriggling out of his overalls and tasting sweet relief in the nude, Tora continued to cling to his companion’s leg the whole time. “Need...cold,” he muttered over and over, his eyes shut and his mouth open as he panted. “Need…cold…meh…”
“You’re welcome!” Poppi told Jesse, smiling cheerfully. “That was certainly outrageous battle, and absurd experience, overall. All way up mountain, all way down, then all across desert. Truth be told, things turn out way better than Poppi projections indicate. So Poppi happy as clam!”
“Tora happier after ten-hour nap,” her Masterpon moaned.
Big Band let out a long, slow breath. “I’m just about played out, myself. We could all use a good, long break after all that hullabaloo. Hell, they oughta make a picture outta what we went through today. If we don’t get filthy stinkin’ rich off the movie rights, there ain’t no justice left in the world, after all.”
“Say, now there’s an idea!” his young charge grinned. “Peacock and the gang on the silver screen at last! I’d buy that for a dollar!”
Aside from the temperature problem, there was the matter of the team’s health. Nobody had escaped unscathed, with injuries ranging from bruises, sprains, and minor breaks from being thrown around on the train, to burns, shrapnel, and ruptures from Akrid attacks. After the shockwave of the armory car exploding, few people were still breathing or hearing quite right, either. Sectonia’s passive healing wasn’t going to cut it, so Mona set up triage. “If you’re hurting bad, right this way!” the little guy called. “I’ve got plenty of spirit left, so I’ll get you fixed up, lickety-split!”
“I can help!” Panther volunteered, already in the middle of tending to Skull’s bloodied arm.
The various Seekers worked their magic, endeavoring to undo all the damage inflicted by Red Eye and red-hot sun alike throughout the course of the long and hectic boss battle. Still, despite their efforts, none of their attempts to help got through to Tharja, who remained dead silent and blank-faced despite the incredible misery that clotted inside her. As the others did what they could, Midna took the opportunity to explain about the World of Light, mostly for Raiden’s sake. Her explanation ended in a mission statement, and while it was true that their campaign had a long way to go, four bosses out of thirteen was nothing to sneeze at. Nothing eased the pain of one’s trials and tribulations quite like victory, after all. Once sufficiently cooled off and patched up, some of the heroes started to walk, with Jesse leading the way. Tora and Poppi just sort of followed along, but it didn’t take long for the Nopon to think twice about the journey he was embarking on. “Hang on, meh. Where we going?”
Poppi glanced at Jesse. “She heading toward Al Mamoon,” she postulated based on the FBC director’s direction and purposeful stride.”
Tora squinted, trying to peer through the heatwaves that distorted the desert air. “That way? Tora not see anything, meh.”
“Well, it pretty far,” Poppi allowed.
“And you people okay with just walking there. Ugh.” Tora plopped down in Big Band’s shade, sitting on the ground. He had yet to put his overalls back on, so the hot sand burned his rear a little. “That crazy, meh. We sure there not better way? Maybe we could signal train!”
“Not unless there’s more tracks nearby,” Band observed. “That monster tore up the rails behind us the whole way.”
Skull patted Mona’s head, his expression hopeful. “Oh hey, maybe you could drive us there?” The little thief, however, looked profoundly unhappy about the suggestion after considering the distance, effort, and group size involved.
Having already changed back into civilian attire to prevent his black Phantom Thief outfit soaking up the sun, Joker thought about what to do. With Fox still at Tostarena to help out its citizens, he tried to put himself in the expedition leader’s shoes, thinking back to all the means of transportation the group used to cross the vast, sandy waste. He remembered Vah Naboris, the mechanical camel that ferried his team across the first third, but that immense wall of ruins had proved impassable for it. Some of the others could fly, but not enough of them to carry the rest, provided they even had the stamina for it. Joker furrowed his brow and cast his mind farther back, all the way to Alcamoth. The team had a whole city of allies out there, just waiting to lend a hand, but Vandham and the others back there didn’t even have a way to reach the Seekers, let alone the means to reach them. Or…did they?
Joker suddenly recalled Fox stepping away from the group for a moment to make contact with home base, offering status reports and requesting mercenary missions. To do so he’d summoned a cute little critter in a puff of smoke. But how? The boy didn’t remember any sort of phone, whistle, or other item. Fox had just…called out its name. Could it really be that easy?
“Moogle!” he said suddenly, drawing a couple glances.
Without a moment’s delay one such critter poofed into existence next to him, all done up in a thinning combover and a spotted red tie. “Yessir!” the moogle greeted him. “What can I do ya for, boss?”
“Oh!” Tora slapped a hand to his head. “After everything, Tora forget about that!” He glanced at Poppi, one eyebrow raised. “Wait, but what about you? Shouldn’t Poppi have perfect recall?”
The artificial blade shrugged. “Poppi thought it group leader responsibility and not pin memory data, so it slip away.”
Joker crossed his arms, his focus on the moogle. “We’ve taken down the Sandswept Sky boss, but we’re stranded in the middle of the desert, a very long way from the nearest city. While we’re okay for now, we’re pretty exhausted. Is there anything you guys can do to help? Some kind of emergency evac, perhaps?”
“Uh, maybe!” The moogle seemed optimistic. “Heard it through the grapevine we got a ship last night. Could be fixed up and ready to fly by now. Gimme a sec.” He poofed away, and a few moments passed by in relative silence, the wind blowing softly across the sand. Joker removed his glasses and wiped his brow with the back of his hand, then brushed his hair back to unstick the strands from his forehead. Band turned his back to the sun so that at least his face was in the shade, and Peacock flipped through a comic book she’d pulled from nowhere. After a minute or so the moogle returned, waving his little nubs in excitement. “Good news, pal!” he exclaimed. “I got word the ship can take off as soon as possible, and head on out to pick ya up! Here!” He tossed a device at Joker, which the teen snatched from the air. It was round, with a flashing light and not much else. “This’ll help ‘em find you. The only thing is, the ship isn’t at one hundred percent just yet, so they might end up stoppin’ over at wherever’s closest, just to make sure everything’s good to go.”
“No problem,” Joker breathed, relieved that he wouldn’t need to hotfoot it all the way back to Al Mamoon after all. By the looks of them, just about everyone else shared his elation. As the moogle disappeared again he turned to face the others. “Guess we’ll just make ourselves comfortable ‘til help arrives, then?”
The team’s mechanic had already rolled onto his back in the shade cast by Big Band, his limbs splayed across the sand. “Way ahead of you! That what Tora does best!”
Ms Fortune
Location: Deep Blue Seaside - Limsa Lominscuttle Town Level 9 Nadia (7/90) Word Count: 3777
“Sorry, emergency!” Nadia blurted out by way of explanation as she vaulted over the front counter to enter the Mizzenmast Inn, earning not just a shocked expression from the unsuspecting receptionist, but also a handful of curious looks from the customers of the Drowning Wench nearby. Ignoring them completely, the feral raced down the inn’s main hall, past room after room until she skidded to a stop in front of her own. Closed. No sign of a break-in. She tried the knob, her face contorted into a pre-emptive wince, only to find that it was locked, after all. The sour sense of unease in her guts wouldn’t let her leave it at that, however. Without the key, I couldn’t have locked it. So why is it?.
Behind her, the sound of footsteps got her attention. She turned to see the receptionist approaching her, his expression one of professional concern. “Ye were in a right hurry there, lass. Anythin’ amiss?” he asked, his hands clasped behind his back.
“I, uh…” Nadia made a show of patting down her shorts. “I fur-got somethin’ in my room, only to realize, uh, well, I fur-got my key in there too, heheh.”
The man gave a sympathetic nod. “Happens all the time. Just leave it to me, lass. I’ll ‘ave it open in a jiffy, or my name ain’t Ezekiel Keys.” From a pocket he produced a metal ring laden with jingling keys.
“Oh! Thanks!” Nadia flashed him a grateful smile and cleared the way. As he combed over his keyring for the correct one, something occurred to the feral, and she leaned against the nearby wall with her arms crossed. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re such a trustin’ guy. Woulda figured you’d be a li’l more reluctant to help, what with the possibility of thieves and such.”
Mr. Keys humored her with a smile. “Not exactly, lass. I just remember ye from the registry, is all.” He turned the latch and swung wide the door, then held out a hand to usher her inside. “Enjoy.”
“You’re the best!” As Mr. Keys peeled away, Nadia went inside and immediately began to scan her room for any evidence of a disturbance. At a glance, the difference between the room as she left it earlier and how it looked now was like night and day, but not in the sense that it had been ransacked. Instead, it was the picture of clean and tidy. The blankets she left in a state of incredible disarray from a night of frenzied tossing and turning were nowhere to be seen, and their spotless replacements lay as flat and serene across the bed as a sheet of fresh snow, so pristine that Nadia had to suppress the urge to throw herself down on them all over again. She also found none of her old garments or beer cans in the trash can, thankfully. A cleaner must have come in and fixed everything up earlier that afternoon, she figured. But not everything was as it should be. Sure enough, on her desk was the futuristic container she’d been given last night on that nightmarish beach, and when she popped it open, there wasn’t a coin to be found.
She’d been robbed.
“Aaaaagh!” Nadia groaned. “Dammit, I’m so stupid!” She went rigid, her hands clapped to her head in despair, then abruptly fell to pieces. As fantastic -and melancholy- as the circumstances had been in which she’d received that bounty, it hadn’t been a dream, and losing it was no joke. Especially when it came as the parting gift of her beloved Fishbone Gang, the found family she’d once lost on a night of dire consequence, and witnessed again one last time at the seam between this world and the next. Nadia wanted to bang her head against the wall; how could she let this happen to such a personal treasure!?
After a moment spent moaning in a pile on the floor, Nadia sighed and began to pull herself together. Once back on one piece, she plopped down with her back against the foot of the bed, her head in her hands. Slowly she massaged her temples with her palms, as if to churn her brain back into working order. “Okay, okay. This isn’t the end of the world,” she thought aloud, her eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed. “I can fix this. Think, dummy. You’re a thief, this should be easy. Just gotta get in his head…”
Nadia rocked onto her feet, sprang up, grabbed the case, and hightailed it back down the hallway. A moment later she turned up in front of the receptionist. “‘Scure me, Mr. Keys?”
“Hm? Oh.” While the man looked at her with mild concern, the fact that he stayed up here rather than pursuing her meant that he recognized her as a legitimate customer of the inn, which hopefully meant he knew all of them. “Hello again, lass. Everythin’ alright?”
With a wry smile and a helpless shrug, Nadia leaned on the desk. “Well, y’know, could be better. Turns out, I’ve been burgled!”
The receptionist’s brows rose a touch. Though pretty well-composed, he did make sure not to hide his genuine worry. “Cripes, ‘ow terrible. Should I send word to the Maelstrom, then?”
“Uh, not yet, nah,” Nadia shook her head. “I just wanna ask a couple questions, if ya don’t mind.”
Impressed by what he took to be his guest’s commitment to solve the problem on her own, the fellow placed his clasped hands on his counter. “Well. Fire away then.”
“Ya mentioned a registry earlier. You keep an eye on everyone goin’ in and out, right?” Nadia queried. When she received a nod, she continued. “Did you see anyone suspicious? Or carryin’ this case, maybe?”
She showed the Mr. Keys the container. His gaze lingered on it a moment, then on Nadia, as if to ask if she was sure she didn’t see anything wrong with her question. “...No,” he replied after a couple seconds. “Can’t say I did. Nobody goes in or out, ‘cept payin’ customers, an’ Mizzenmast staff. All of ‘em get written down in my li’l book ‘ere, too.”
“Mm, must’ve used his own bag then,” Nadia mused before clearing her throat. “Ahem! That reminds me. My room got cleaned up since I left. Maybe the thief is a staff member?”
Mr. Keys’ eyes narrowed. “Very unlikely, lass. Not only are the maids vetted, but we got safeguards in place. Gotta make sure customer security’s our priority. None of the maids mentioned an unlocked room this afternoon, either.”
Nadia blinked twice, thinking. “Huh. So the culprit either came in before, or picked and then re-locked it after…maybe I could check your notebook?” It took her only a short time to peruse the handful of entries logged between the time she’d left and the time she’d returned. Most people, it seemed, spent this part of the day out and about. It helped that a number of the Mizzenmast guests right now were fellow Seekers, although not all of them. She couldn’t glean much from the names and times of the four entries that remained, other than the second one being the cleaning woman, courtesy of Mr. Keys. That meant two possible suspects–unless the robber didn’t come in the inn’s front door. It was possible that the thief was a guest here too, with a room elsewhere in the inn and maybe a fake name, but was it likely? If the shoe was on the other foot, Nadia certainly wouldn’t have. No matter how good your act, every witness and every record was a liability; a skilled thief got in and out without ever being seen by anyone, or leaving any trace to suggest that he or she was ever there at all.
Finally, the gears were beginning to turn. She thanked Mr. Keys and jogged back to her room, where her focus immediately gravitated toward the window. What happened was no grand heist, but a spur-of-the-moment act committed by someone on the hunt for an easy mark. There were other windows the culprit could have used to enter, but what mattered was the one used to leave. Only a stupid or greedy thief would have stuck around after lucking into such a bounty. Nadia approached the window that she remembered leaving open earlier, and peeked her head out. No balcony of any kind, and no nearby fire escapes or other such easy method of escape. Narrowing her eyes, she ran her finger along the windowsill, and found a mark in the wood on the side of the room. While small, it was deep, and a quick examination determined that the board seemed to be pried up a short distance. A grappling hook, supporting the weight of a man, Nadia reasoned. She leaned out the window and squinted downward. And his ill-gotten loot!
Her window looked out over the Aftcastle, the largest public courtyard to be found to be found on the Upper Decks, so named due to the nautical convention of being behind the Mizzenmast. It sported a smattering of people around its wide-open space, most on official business as far as Nadia could tell. From the Aftcastle, sturdy bridges extended to the Missing Member pub, the Blacksmiths’ Guild, the Hyaline hub tower, and most notably, Maelstrom command. With what amounted to Limsa’s police station right there, she seriously doubted that a small-time thief had the guts to just walk across the plaza. Nadia’s eyes glossed over the largely uninteresting courtyard to land on the real problem: the wharftown. A direct descent from here led not to the marble-white towers and suspension bridges of the Upper Decks, but to the shanties that occupied the five or so stories of vertical space between the Lower Decks and the water’s surface, crowded like thickets and bushes around the ‘trees’ of this maritime forest. The feral slowly exhaled, mulling over her options. If that’s where her thief went, he was as good as gone. For that amount of money, though? “Doesn’t hurt to try.”
Nadia threw herself out the window, performed a somersault in midair, shot past the seastacks, and bounced off an awning like a trampoline to land with a roll on the top layer of the shanties. She stood, moved to the side to let a burly workman by, and took a look around. A second look at the canvas she landed on confirmed that it was, in fact, a sail, and that large sections of this upper layer seemed to be using sails to provide shade from the sun. As her search continued she spotted many sets of wooden stairs that led either up to the Lower Decks or down to interior levels of the shanties, as well as crates, cranes, and cargo operations of all kinds. It looked like the top layer served to load and unload shipments, stockpile material, and so forth. In short, it was everything one would expect from a wharf–and with nowhere to hide, not where Nadia’s quarry would be found.
A set of nearby stairs brought her below, where for the first time the cat burglar laid eyes on the shanties’ true ecosystem. The remaining four layers were a conglomerate of multi-leveled piers integrated with the pirate ships, frigates, galleons, and sloops that had gone out of use long ago, salvaged for lumber or lashed to the docks wholesale and converted into the shantytown’s buildings. Their hulls were the shantytown’s walls, their holds the apartments, their decks the floors, and their cabins the houses, although Nadia could see plenty of more conventional shacks, too. The smells of fresh fish, lamp oil, pine tar caulk, and medicinal remedies hit her all at once. Beneath her feet she could feel the whole place rock steadily with the ebb and flow of the tide. In an odd way it reminded her of the violated fishing village up north, bolted together from the doomed ships that wrecked upon the beaches of Carcass Isle. This was where the refugees of the war with the Abyssals and castaways from all over, without the money to get by in Limsa’ Lominscutte Town’s sunlit decks, found themselves: holed up in a labyrinth of barnacle-crusted wood and gutted vessels going nowhere, getting by however they could in the lamplight. It didn’t look that bad, but it was quite the change of pace from the Limsa that Nadia knew. She could feel the eyes on her, leering, suspicious, hungry. The bottom line was that if the Azure Navy and Maelstrom kept the town above picture-perfect, then this was where the displaced pirates and scoundrels surely dwelled, including the thief who’d made off with her precious hoard.
The only problem was actually finding him. Nadia glanced over at the stairs. If her target was eager to disappear, he most likely came this way. Someone must have seen him. At a measured pace she made her way over to a dingy stall nearby, where a stocky carver seemed to be working at some wood. “Hey,” Nadia greeted her. “Oh, I get it, you must be a c-arr-penter. Well, I don’t wanna holdja up, but any chance ya seen a someone run through here lately with a grapplin’ hook and a bag?”
In reply she got only a surly, squinted stare. Nadia got the feeling that she was being sized up, and that this tough-looking lady wasn’t impressed. Her patience ran out fast, and with it her friendly smile wavered. After a few seconds the trader crossed her arms. “...Maybe,” she growled, her voice grievously hoarse. “What’s it worth to ya?”
Of course. This hoodlum wasn’t going to divulge anything without something on Nadia’s part to sweeten the deal. Unfortunately, the feral was fresh out of cash, and every second that passed was another that let the thief get farther away. Her annoyance was already starting to boil over, so she slapped her palms down on the table. “Look, I don’t have time for this. If ya know somethin’, cough it up, matey!”
The carver suddenly lunged, grabbing Nadia by her baggy tank top and pulling her forward onto the counter with her shirt twisted up in a knot. All of a sudden her face was in the feral’s, so close that she could smell the stink of the pirate’s breath. “Maybe those funny ears o’ yers don’t work so good,” she snarled. “‘Round here, we ain’t fond o’ outsiders struttin’ in, actin’ like they own the place. Ya think I’m some kinda rat!? So I’m askin’...what it’s worth to ya. Is it worth dyin’ for?”
After getting over her initial surprise, Nadia bared her teeth. She didn’t appreciate being put through the wringer like this on her day off. If this person felt like being an asshole, fine. “Let’s find out.” She opened her neck scar and released a spray of blood into the carver’s eyes. As she reeled back Nadia delivered a headbutt to the woman’s nose, then grabbed her head and slammed it down into the counter. The next second she flipped into the air, her leg held high, and before Rita could recover Nadia brought down an axe kick that smashed the jerk through the table and laid her out flat on the deck.
As she sputtered, Nadia crouched beside her. Next door, the drunken bone peddler looked on with alarm, but made no move to stop the newcomer. With a flash Nadia hardened her nails into claws. As much as she wanted to try intimidation, Galeem’s influence wasn’t about to let Rita go quietly. As if on cue Rita let out a bellow, rising from the ground with her whittling knife in hand. The feral spun out of the way and delivered a revolving slash to Rita’s head that cut her eyepatch to ribbons and left clawmarks from temple to jaw. “Wagh!” she yellowed, but rather than falter as Nadia expected, Rita shoulder-barged her. As she got knocked back, the pirate followed up with a slice of surgical precision, only for her blade to slide harmlessly through the scar tissue of Nadia’s neck.
“What!?” Rita snapped, not sure what just happened. Her enemy, meanwhile, realized that this must be no ordinary hoodlum. When she found her footing, Nadia went low, then kicked high, going for the throat with Nail Clipper. It left Rita gurgling, and the feral wasted no time comboing into High Brow to launch her into the roof. The carver landed in a heap, all the fight knocked out of her and her knife lost.
This time Nadia put her foot on Rita’s elbow before crouching down. “Ya asked for it,” she sighed. “Now, where’s that thief, huh? What, cat got your tongue? Nyahah, not yet I don’t. Course, we need that if you’re gonna spill the beans. I betcha you ‘wood’ not be happy if I broke your carvin’ arm, though…”
Not conscious enough to resist, Rita grit her teeth. “...I know ‘em. He’ll’ve gone to…Sturmbreacher.”
“Sturmbreacher,” Nadia repeated. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? You pirates ‘arr’ gonna hafta work on your people skills.” She patted Rita on the back. “Smell ya later!”
A dozen minutes and a couple floors later, the cat burglar found just what she was looking for: an old galleon with the name she wanted to see emblazoned on the hull in faded paint. It floated listlessly on the water with one side torn open, replaced by a facade with swinging doors and shuttered windows. She stepped inside and discovered that it was a bar, and one rank with disreputable grog and body odor, to boot. Though not jam-packed by any means, it harbored a handful of crooked-looking customers, including a scoundrel, arapscallion, and a ne’er-do-well. Behind the bar stood a huge man with a purple cape, but Nadia was more interested in the fellow sitting in front of him, with his back to her. The white-haired man sported a grappling hook on the end of a rope wound around his shoulder, and on the bar lay an aquamarine bag that glittered with gold. Everyone but him turned to look at Nadia as she entered, bemused and angered by the stranger that clearly didn’t belong.
“We-he-hell, who do we got here?” one of the brigands drawled as the three goons looked over from their table. The bearded man leaned back in his chair. “A pretty li’l miqo’te gal, out all on ‘er own? Now ain’t that just the sorriest thing I ever did see!”
“Heheh,” the girl giggled, obviously drunk and not on the same page. “Yeah, look what the *hic* cat dragged in.”
A noise prompted Nadia to look over her shoulder. From the shadows out of view, a pirate gecko had moved to block the way out, his arms crossed. He looked tough, with a lot of meat on his bones and a big bandage on his nose from a recent scrap. “Well, guess it’s up to us to keep ‘er company!” the first brigand continued. “En’t that just lovely! Well, what’re ye waitin’ for, then! ‘Ere, kitty-kitty!”
Nadia smirked at him. “You just keep on drinkin’, booze-for-brains, ‘cause I pack a hell of a lot more punch than whatever that crap is you’re chokin’ down, and I’ll leave you a whole lot groggier, too!” Although she kept a straight face, on the inside she was beside herself with excitement. Hell yeah! That was a GREAT LINE! Let’s keep it up! She cleared her throat. “I’m here for him.” Grinning, she pointed at the man who had yet to face her. “You! Yeah, you with the haircut! Gimme back my money…uh, dumbass!”
The big guy behind the counter let out a deep, bass chuckle. “Geheh. So it was yers, huh? My boy was just tellin’ me he swiped it offa someone who left both ‘er window and ‘er door wide open. And you’re tellin’ me he’s the dumbass? Gahahaha!”
As everyone started hooting and hollering Nadia couldn’t help but turn a little red, even if she did manage to keep up her sassy grin. She stepped forward. “Oh yeah? W-well, uh. Just you wait, tons of fun. I'll deal with you ne-!”
“SHUT UP!” The man suddenly bellowed. In an instant the entire bar went quiet. “You’ve got some nerve comin’ to pick a fight with me, the pirate lord Barth! I’ll hack you into pieces with my axe!”
“Barf?” Nadia almost doubled over with laughter. “That short for Barf-olomew, or Barf-ood? Either way, some big blowhard like you couldn’t hack it as a deckhand, let alone a pirate lord!”
“You MANGY, FLEA-BITTEN BITCH! RAAAAGH!” Barth roared. He bent behind the counter to dig for something, probably an axe, if his threat was anything to go by. The thief at the bar, however, found his voice first.
“Come now, boss,” he said, his voice calm. “Don’t fall for her petty insults. She’s just upset that she lost a few coins. It’s only natural, after all.” He turned around to reveal the biggest shit-eating grin Nadia had ever seen in her entire life, which was saying something given how often she looked in a mirror. “A fool and her money are easily parted.”
Barth rose up and slammed a giant, double-headed axe down on the bar. “A fool and ‘er life, too!”
“Not this fool.” For just a moment, Nadia was deathly serious. Then, in classic fashion, she broke out into a cheerful giggle. Six enemies, all with weapons, at least half of them thoroughly inebriated. Even with that handicap, this would be suicide as a straight fight. Luckily, she didn’t plan on fighting fair, and as a small sidenote, she couldn’t die. To think this is how I’m spending my vacation. she thought. I coulda been chillin’ on the beach with the others, sippin’ margaritas, but no. She jumped into her fighting stance, bouncing back and forth on her heels. “Come and get me then, ya rabid sea dogs! I’ll show ya I’m not kitten around!”
The fight kicked off in spectacular fashion, and the bright-eyed Triple Demon soaked it up like a sponge. After all the sensory deprivation they’d been through, this beach bash of Karin’s had turned out to be quite the banquet, a veritable smorgasbord for the senses. Not knowing either Sakura or Birdie, they pretty much just wanted to see blood, so they shouted out their encouragement whenever anyone got a hit. When the first round came to an end they almost looked disappointed, but that didn’t stop Cerberus from clapping to show their appreciation, at least with the triplets that weren’t buried up to their necks in the sand.
In the brief interlude a few more unfamiliar faces made an appearance, and predictably Cerberus’ short attention span got the better of them. Ace provoked little more than a glance, but they looked over in perfect unison as two female robots showed up alongside an illustrious sorcerer, whose stylish robe, noxious green glow, and mystical manner struck them as the very embodiment of villainous finery. “Ooh, you look cool!” they chorused. “Are you from hell too? What kind of magic can you use? Can you show us? Please, please, please!” To Blazermate and Susie they paid no mind, assuming that the robots belonged to the mage in their midst.
Before Rubick could either rebuff or oblige the curious hellhound, however, the newly-returned Junior and Kamek started a lightshow of their own. Eager to demonstrate the remarkable artifact they’d lucked into, they leveraged the leftover spirits retrieved from the bowels of Carcass Isle in the wee hours of the morning, putting the monster’s remains to good -or perhaps questionable- use. They started by smushing a freaky penguin spirit into Junior’s poor suspecting Popplio, then moved on to try outfitting Bowser himself with new crustacean armaments. Cerberus’ eyes went wide with wonder as the multicolored light radiated outward from the subjects’ bodies, bright enough to distract the nearby street fighters as they attempted to go about their business.
Spirit consumed: Dire Penguin Target: Flippers The host’s flippers got longer, winglike in shape, sprouting sleek, rudimentary feathers ideal for diving. Theirs is a rubbery black coloration, which spreads out from the shoulder joint and across the host’s back, forming a vestlike patch interspersed with red marks, while the blue skin is now dark gray toward the belly. The host’s personality is more irritable and noisy. This spirit grants the Power Penguin Leap, a move that launches the host is a fast parabolic bash. It bypasses shields, deals respectable stagger, and goes both harder and farther if performed from the water. It also grants the Weakness Flightless Bird, making movement clumsier on land
Spirit consumed: Land Dreugh Target: Right Shoulder Reddish chitin plate armor has spread from the snaktivation point, replacing the scale armor already in place. It extends down to the right elbow, up toward the neck, and across the upper-right chest. With its knobby little spikes it’s quite hard, providing better defense at the cost of having exposed flesh where the armor isn’t. A new jointed limb has also sprouted from the spot, right next to the host’s right-side cannon. It terminates in a bristly claw and can strike quickly, but not at the strength the host is used to. The host’s personality is more aggressive and less social. This spirit confers the Power Shocking Touch, allowing Bowser to electrify a single limb that then spends the charge on whatever it hits next, zapping it. It also confers the Weakness Can’t Swim. When in water, the host can only sink to the bottom
Spirit consumed: Tonberry The host has gotten smaller and stubbier, and lost her human skin in favor of green amphibian flesh, as well as gotten a more round head and more pronounced snout, and a more fishlike tail. Her eyes are also now yellow. The host’s personality is more quiet and ominous. This spirit grants the Power Knife. It’s a slow, point blank stab attack that always critically hits, ignoring defense and immunity, thereby dealing massive damage. It can only be used when the host intends to kill her target. It also grants the Weakness Total Killing Intent. When the host goes in for a killing blow (which is intrinsic when she wants to use Knife) she can’t communicate, use equipment, or otherwise do anything but walk toward her target and attack, although she can snap herself out of it
After oohing and aahing over the transformations, despite a complete and utter lack of understanding of what was going on, Cerberus’ attention naturally drifted back towards the street fighters’ bout. With Rubick all but forgotten they launched into another round of shouts, laughs, cheers, and occasionally jeers, just barking out all their thoughts and suggestions no matter how dumb or impractical they might be. In other words: they acted just as tournament watchers should. The banana peel incident in particular had the three rolling. It wasn’t long after that some sharp words amped up the tension levels, and the action swelled. Cerberus fell silent for the first time, watching at rapt attention as the two went back and forth, trading aluminum cans and spirit fireballs along with incredible kicks and punches. All too soon the spectacle was over. Courtesy of Sakura’s splendid coup-de-grace, Birdie sailed away to splat face-first in the sand. Rather than wallow in the knowledge that he went 0-2 he figured out something more productive to do with his time, and promptly hit the bricks.
The Triple Demon, meanwhile, was impressed, even if there hadn’t been any bloodshed or broken bones. These people were tough! Tough enough for Cerberus to play with, maybe? Even if the two above ground managed to dig their sister out in time, though, it looked like a bout of their own wasn’t in the cards. They realized both that Sakura would be facing off against Karin next, and that it was a grudge match, too. “Ooh, drama!” Cerberus exclaimed as Ishizaki stepped up to referee. “Go on, kick her ass!” they exhorted neither of the gals in particular.
The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, the Prisoner, and the Skullgirl
As Albedo pulled his swordblade free the halves of the Sir Slush melted away. Handily done, if the alchemist could say so himself, but with a flurry of snowballs on the way he couldn’t afford to dawdle. He plunged his hand into a pouch and withdrew a fistful of the Dust of Azoth, which he proceeded to ram straight through the snow and into the cold earth below. “A new beginning!” he called, and from dead soil fresh life sprang forth. A fir tree sprang into being, a deep-green coniferous wall of defense bristling with needles to mitigate the impact of the enemy’s projectiles.
Albedo narrowed his eyes as he peered through the boughs, coldly considering the situation. With his observational skills he’d robbed the enemy of not just their element of surprise, but their best chance at an advantageous position. If he and his allies could hold the line, they could take control of the battle and exterminate the enemy without the situation ever devolving into chaos. If it were just him, the long range of the snowmen would pose an issue, potentially pinning him down behind cover until they could surround him, but as his crossbow-wielding ally quickly demonstrated, he needed not worry at all.
Linkle summoned a sniper with a giant bowgun almost as big as the Skullgirl herself, and a moment later Imani blasted a hole straight through the frosty ringleader’s middle. In that charge shot’s wake flew a barrage of crossbow bolts, faster and deadlier than anything the snowmen were packing. In a matter of moments Linkle turned the tables on the would-be ambushers, forcing those with sufficient intelligence to take cover themselves, while their mindless brethren got skewered and blown up by the bushel. The barrage of snowballs against Albedo’s fur tree came to an abrupt end as his assailants shifted focus to the much bigger problem, and like clockwork the alchemist sprang from cover. He raced across the snow with surprising speed and darted into the snowmen’s foxhole from the left side, where his blade slid through snowmen like butter.
He wasn’t the only one who got busy in light of the Skullgirl’s initiative. Frisk procured a dangerous-looking firearm from Linkle’s sled, a bladed black rifle that would be big in the hands of a burly veteran, let alone a noodle-armed child. Despite the splendid veneer, the gun was still the Alternator underneath, a mess of scrap metal and alpine wood cobbled together in the withering cold and scarcity of the icebound world Reisum. When Frisk pulled the trigger it spat out nine frost rounds a second with bone-jarring recoil, and being fully automatic, the recoil quickly mounted to the point where it tore from the kid’s numb fingers. It fell into the snow with a hiss, where it continued to steam for a moment. Meanwhile, the ice shots did almost nothing to the snowmen they did manage to hit, only really serving to make them mad.
Luckily, the snowmen had other issues. The trio’s mysterious pursuer had revealed himself at last -intentionally, at least- and straightaway joined their offensive against their chilly adversaries as a gesture of good faith. With the Prisoner well-situated in his vantage point to pick off any troublesome snowmen that slipped through Linkle’s assault, and Albedo wreaking havoc in the wings, victory seemed all but assured.
As the alchemist lopped the head off one last Sir Slush, he spotted the big snowman from earlier. With no internal organs to pierce, he’d survived Imani’s charge shot despite the gaping hole it left behind, and merely jammed more snow into the gap to fix himself up. Then he lumbered forward, both arms clad in giant masses of snow and ice like shields to block Linkle and the Prisoner’s shots. Like a juggernaut he weathered the storm, stomping closer and closer until he got into range. Then he roared and smashed his wintry shields down, one after another. Each shook the earth, creating a wintry wave that rumbled toward Linkle, Frisk, and the Prisoner, threatening to knock them down and batter them bloody. “Gahahah!” Bad Mr. Frosty guffawed. “Not so tough now, are ya? C’mon, gimme your best shot!”
Albedo obliged, leaping from the sidelines to sink his blade into Frosty’s back. The snowman grunted, but did not relinquish his ugly grin. “Hah! That it?” He gritted his teeth as he raised both giant arms overhead. As he inhaled he burned through his entire cigar in a single mighty puff, and his eyes blazed with fury. “Have…one more! GRAH!”
He brought his arms down in a giant ground point. For a second it seemed no stronger than the other two, but then the whole area began to quake. Albedo turned and looked up at Dragonspine, looming above the icy river and layer-cake hills. His eyes widened as he spotted a great mass of stone and snow hurtling down the slope. “Avalanche!” He went to leap off the snowman and flee in the direction of the gulch’s walls, but to his surprise he couldn’t tug free. When he glanced down he found both his sword and the arm that held it frozen solid, stuck where he pierced Frosty’s body.
“Not so fast, bub!” the snowman smirked. “You can hang out here as long as ya like. It’s ‘snow’ trouble! Gahaha!” Albedo clenched his jaw and pulled, but he couldn’t get free. All too soon, the avalanche thundered down the valley, swallowing up everything in its path in an unstoppable tide of ice and snow.
It took a few moments for the powder to settle. Then Bad Mr. Frosty exploded from the mess, none the worse for wear despite Albedo’s Cinnabar Spindle still lodged in his body, with no sign of its owner. “One down, three to go!” the villain hollered, looking around. “Who’s next?”
Hello and welcome to the guild. I'm terribly sorry for your loss, and the mark it's left on you. Such tragedy can really be so devastating. Still, I applaud you for your desire to push onward. Undertaking new commitments can be frightening, and with how often RPs fade away, I understand completely the wariness of joining a group that might be gone tomorrow, or never begin in the first place. At the end of the day, all we can really do is try to forge ahead, hoping that everything holds together for as long as possible. I certainly hope you find what you're looking for, giving you the chance to enjoy your passion once more.
If you're looking for really solid, dependable groups, you might profit from looking at long-running RPs with decent activity. The Casual section generally has the most options. As intimidating as it can be to jump into an RP that's been around a while, those are probably the ones that'll continue to stick around for years to come. I'm blessed to be a small part of one such group of rockstars, and I wish you the best of luck finding the same!
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.<br><br>Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.</div>
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