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Wash away the sorrow all the stains of time
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Forgotten footfalls, engraved in ash
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Bio
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.
A rare interim update has been posted! Its primary purpose is to keep the ball rolling with the truck battle. I hope it keeps things interesting until the usual Sunday post!
Once the convoy began to pick up speed, even the fleetest G-men soon got left in the dust. Tora and Poppi watched them recede into the distance, standing in eerie stillness and staring with those beady, unblinking scarlet eyes. G-men, huh? Tora thought. When the trucks went downhill and the team’s pursuers disappeared from sight, he couldn’t help but feel like a weight had been taken off his chest. Those things, whatever they were, creeped him out a little. They did this not by virtue of being inhuman, for this world contained plenty of strange beings completely new to Alrest natives like himself, but by virtue of trying to be. Those uncanny watchmen seemed to believe that their laughably weak disguises rendered them totally inconspicuous, and yet the people of Gutsford played along, ignoring the imposters in their midst who so clearly didn’t belong. It was that fact that bothered Tora the most. When the G-men first confronted him, looming over him like nighttime shadows, he’d been gripped for a moment by raw fear, as if his instincts had cried out for him to get away. Maybe the citizens abided by these creatures, not because they convinced them, but because the consequences of not doing so terrified them. Tora frowned, and turned from the way he’d come to face the road ahead.
Soon the ride got rough. Not much of the scrubland highway seemed to be paved, with roads of gravel or plain old dirt making up the majority. What roadways did exist turned out to be in pretty poor shape due to a potent combination of use, neglect, and the elements. The result was a jarring, jolting, jostling, and generally unpleasant ride. Easily knocked off his little nub-legs by a rogue bump or pothole in the road, Tora stayed seated, with his wings planted to either side of him for extra support. Remembering the railway trek in the Sandswept Sky, he kept his eyes on the scenery, alert for any hostiles. Of course, the scrubland looked much nicer than the barren, syrupy desert back then; in fact, it was quite pretty in its own way, with the trees, brush, cactus flowers, and sparkling blue rivers. Still, he didn’t care to appreciate it close-up by getting thrown off the truck, so he focused on keeping himself as steady as possible.
He watched Midna not only put some motorcycles down on top of one of the shaky trucks, but pile them up, and then be taken by surprise when they slid right off. She managed to save one, but the others hit the ground at high speed and instantly got wrecked, causing the driver to panic and swerve the opposite way. “Meh-meh,” he muttered. “What think would happen?.”
While her Masterpon endured the ride, Poppi put her stabilizers to good use and maneuvered around the fleet of trucks. Given the width of a four-lane highway, the trucks could afford to spread out a little for safety, but Poppi confirmed that just a slight added jet boost in her jump would be sufficient to get across any gaps. She made her way toward the front of the fleet to briefly speak with Peach, Giovanna, and the Doctors. Real conversation could wait until later, but she at least confirmed their allegiance and the plan. “Ride trucks until helicopter arrive, then get on that and fly to Special Operations Unit headquarters in Midgar,” she confirmed. “Roger-roger.”
Just a couple twists and turns through the canyons later, the heroes’ good luck came to an end. From behind them the school bus roared into the scene, and the G-men climbed out with their gray-bearded ringleader in tow. As they approached Poppi hurried back to Tora’s side to help him steady himself long enough to bring out the Variable Saber. “We really fighting here?” he asked her, his tone incredulous and a little fearful. “Barely any room to maneuver, and there danger all around!”
Poppi gave him a reassuring pat. “If go to ground, we get left behind. We not have choice.” She produced the spirit she’d swiped from Anaconda, and pressed it to her chest. “...But we do have options.”
Notable spirit consumed: Jona The host’s height is unchanged. Her arms are now reforged into bulkier metal, black with red accents, up to the shoulder. Heat vents protrude from the elbows, and there are six-bullet clusters along the back of each forearm. Poppi is also now wearing a short-sleeved beige shirt, her ‘leggings’ are now more like actual boots, and she has a splash of pink at the roots of her shorter, shoulderblade-length hair. Her personality is more extreme in both directions, both casual and dangerous; she’s more fond of kidding around and less given over to Noponisms. This spirit confers the Power Revolver Convict, which gives Poppi two oversized revolvers only usable by her new arms. They have appreciable power but mediocre accuracy and reload time; ammo has to be produced in and then dispensed from the arms themselves, giving her twelve shots total. This spirit also confers the Weakness Alcoholism, which weakens her Ether Furnace the longer she goes without alcohol up to a certain point
The two sacrificed their initiative to secure the fusion upgrade, but the other Seekers got to work. First to step up was Karin, leading by example. Soon after she boarded one of the rearmost trucks, Morax slammed down opposite her. The buffalo-headed demon scowled at her imperiously, his lip curled and his tiny eyes scornful. He made a sign with his hand, activating Counter in order to reflect physical attacks 10% of the time and strike back after physical attacks 50% of the time. He then held out his scepter. “...I will have order,” he decreed, calling on Maragi to send forth a series of fiery explosions. His flame would continue to flow unless given the chance to wallop Karin with Oni-Kagura at close range.
After fumbling more of her equipment, Midna let loose her minions. Together they attacked the seated demon Belphegor, barraging him with their various abilities. Psychic projectiles dealt some damage, but the ice spears shattered limply against him. The firebomb that punctuated the volley, however, left the demon reeling. “Aaaargh!” he growled, nearly falling off the toilet before he righted himself. “Blasted mortals…you’d stand against a Duke of Hell!?” He puffed up and unleashed Famine’s Scream to slap Midna’s whole crew plus Sakura with Hunger at a 50% chance, although since an affliction on and of the Strikers would pass to Midna herself, halved attack power was practically guaranteed. “Gahaha! Get a load of this!” Belphegor cackled. With a flush of his toilet, he used Mabufula to crystalize and then burst ice magic in the air around his foes.
When Midna’s Vibrava used Bug Buzz to agitate Benedict’s team, it provoked a reaction from all of them. It instantly got a light Zio bolt from Agathion and much heavier Ziodyne bolts from Atropos. Sandman stirred up a Garula, creating a wind vortex that just missed the Vibrava, but erupted into an upswell the popped the back of the truck it’d been clinging to in the air. “Oops,” Sandman grunted, glancing over at Benedict apologetically. “My bad.”
As the Vibrava fled, the voice of the Seekers’ number-one problem followed it. “I am Trumpeter,” the harbinger intoned. “The ring of my trumpet signals calamity and death…” Pit’s light arrows struck its body only to bounce right back at him, forcing the angel to cease shooting at Atropos and Agathion. Trumpeter prepared to return fire, only for the angel to fly a little too close to the sun and get clipped by a street sign. “...Justice.” As Trumpeter considered what to do next, it took stock of its allies’ activity. Ippon-Datara narrowly missed a Sledgehammer blow on Raz and got a burst of psy-blasts for its efforts. It did some damage, but not anywhere near enough to give the boy free reign to be distracted by Agathion.
Thankfully, Raz wasn’t alone. “Trovão!“ As Ippon-Datara hopped toward him to pummel him senseless, a green blur hurtled through the air between his truck and one up ahead. Giovanna’s flying kick struck like thunder, tumbling the smith across the truck’s roof to the back. It looked up, its eye flaring with anger, to see the secret agent adopt a fighting stance with her wolf spirit curled around her. She dashed forward, closing the distance with incredible speed, and met Ippon-Datara in a mighty clash.
At the same time, Pit dusted himself off to help Raz out with Agathion. His tremendous uppercut blasted the little squirt off more like a baseball than a golf ball, and to add insult to injury the demon smashed into a passing tree. There it remained, down for the count.
The sound of light footsteps came from behind the two; Peach had floated over to join them. “You two okay?” she asked, her voice raised over the wind. “Since the three of us can float a little, maybe we can make a push from an angle they aren’t expecting!”
Up in front, Roxas opted to try cutting off the head of the snake by going for the Turk in charge: Benedict. After reaching his quarry he bombarded the old strategist, first with attacks and then with questions, but Benedict’s allies weren’t about to make things so easy. His bodyguard Atropos stepped up to defend him. She flung out her thread to try and bind Roxas, then followed up with Mazionga, a wide-range shower of yellow lightning bolts.
Meanwhile, Blazermate and Susie were setting up shop in the backlines. The constant, violent, and unpredictable motion of the trucks made it tough to get situated, but with a little time and effort they would pose some real danger to the enemies. Sandman, however, decided against it. If these bots wanted to get comfortable, he’d be happy to tuck them in. He approached the backlines, leaping nimbly from truck to truck until he got in range. Of course, the Engineer’s turret -still level one at the moment- immediately opened up on him, but since Gun wasn’t particularly effective, he powered through in order to cast Dormin on both bots before making his escape.
He did not get far, however. A loud gunshot rang out as an oversized bullet zoomed past Sandman, prompting him to whirl to the right. He looked over to see Poppi soaring his way, her new revolvers blazing in her Masterpon’s wings now that she’d finally loaded them both up. While the second shot missed also, the third slammed into the small demon’s shoulder hard enough to just about knock him off his feet. “Gah!” With no other cover he went for the edge of the truck, took another bullet to the back, and vaulted over to hang off the other side. Poppi landed and Tora hopped down to shoot over the edge, only for Sandman to jump back up on the offensive. He struck the Nopon with a furious Dormin Rush using his bag, and Tora got unlucky enough to fall asleep.
As he slumped over and started to roll down the truck, Poppi rolled her eyes. “Gimme a break.”
She dashed after him to scoop him up, and as Sandman prepared to cast Dormina on her, she threw Tora right at him–both to bodyblock the spell and to knock him back. As the demon teetered precariously on the brink of the truck, Tora sprang up ready for a reckoning, only for Poppi to drag him back. He spun to face her as she holstered the guns she’d given him, his gaze accusatory. “Hey! Tora want pay back for unwanted naptime!” His companion merely glanced to the left in the direction that the trucks were headed, and Tora followed her gaze. A second later, a passing sign whacked Sandman and dropped him to the canyon floor.
Trumpeter had seen enough; it was time to act. It readied its calamitous instrument and resounded the toll of death. “...Mafreidyne.” Pillars of light fell all across the battlefield, and where they landed ten-foot spheres of nuclear power welled forth. While not one per Seeker, the outbursts occurred where they’d do the most damage. They fell upon Tora and Poppi, the Midna mob, the backline bots, the floater trio, and both one-on-one fights, forcing everyone to move -if they could- or suffer crippling damage. At least the trucks got out unscathed, somehow.
Neat as this place was, Nadia couldn’t afford to be distracted for long, but by the time she got a half-dozen steps into the Temple of the Black Egg she was already too late. Her headlong sprint came to an apprehensive stop as the imprisoned man suddenly and violently ripped through his chains, half-hidden in the gloom, and attacked what appeared to be a sword-wielding goat priest from behind. Their struggle lasted just briefly, as Ganondorf overpowered and proceeded to execute Toriel, her end quick, clean, and quiet.
Nadia grimaced with her brows raised, her head pulled back. “Eugh…” She wondered if she should have done something, or even if she could. “I hope that wasn’t someone im-purr-tant.” Her tail curled around her arms and legs as she crouched there, watching the man slowly and deliberately claim the sword stashed nearby. Behind the feral came a couple representatives of the Koopa Troop, Bowser and Rika. She swiveled her head to glance at them, then to the fainted Froggit, then back to Ganondorf. In due course he did turn to face Nadia, peering at the unfamiliar girl across the misty distance that separated them. He did not need to speak loudly to be heard in this place.
“You’re…welcome?” Nadia stood up, her graciousness and expression both tentative, and pocketed her hands. This guy was big, and he carried himself powerfully. With the elaborate patterns on his unusual garb he gave her the impression of some tribal warlord. He also looked…well, evil. Nadia knew not to judge a book by its cover, but that smile was really the icing on an imprisonment-and-murder cake. Bowser referred to him by the name Ganondorf, which sounded both regal and a little silly, but for once Nadia didn’t feel like laughing. Apparently the big lunk knew this guy, and even worked with him? Considering Bowser’s level of villainy, she wanted to think that this fellow might not really be that bad either, but this was one hell of an introduction.
After a couple seconds Nadia decided not to overthink things, and just deal with them as they came. “A favor, huh? Well, since you’re offerin’, might as well. I like settlin’ things straight away. So.” She tilted her head, causing her ears to lean from one side of her head to the other. “We’re here to wipe out something called a Guardian. We don’t know what it is yet, but it’s real strong, probably real big, too. Important to some pain-in-the-asses in red armor called Consuls. Got any dirt on somethin’ like that?”
My apologies, but if you mean a reward for the encounter, that would be because you didn't participate in the encounter. The Adventurer was not 'there' IC until the post you made after the encounter was already over. While that means he was there in retrospect, just existing doesn't qualify someone for a reward. In game terms, if you don't actually fight a monster, you're not going to get EXP from defeating it. Plus, I already doled out the rewards before the post that even put the Adventurer 'there' in retrospect. Keep in mind as well, if not for feedback that post would have taken place both around Robbers' Barge (very far from the encounter) and before the encounter chronologically took place.
Sort of! As of my last update, the fight is over. Because Zzap didn't get addressed before the update, but we couldn't exactly let it do its thing, I mentioned in passing that everyone else ganged up on it after finishing their fights. So, it's dead, and now there's something else going on. That's why the Adventurer talking with Omori worked originally, since it's perfect after the fight's over and he's trying to get his bearing before moving on.
I think what you've got would actually work fine if you made the location the Ruins instead of the Barge, as in he's 'coming to' in the flowerbed that broke everyone's fall through the Chasm as the fight with the monsters concluded, having been stunned by the fall himself.
By the by, just so you know, I update the whole group on a weekly basis on Sunday nights. We can't afford to wait on every last person before I do so if we're to make progress, so it's possible to miss out if you don't post that week.
Barely did a few seconds pass once the garage door slammed down then Tora and Poppi heard a sudden din from inside. Voices both familiar and new sounded off in a variety of taunts, yells, yelps, and grunts. He did briefly catch a glimpse of Sakura in there before the garage door closed, which explained where she disappeared to while he and Poppi got distracted by the local watchmen, but another voice rang a bell for him. “That sound like friend Midna!” Tora surmised, pretty certain he recognized the voice of the ally he’d fought alongside in the Sandswept Sky. Out of a sense of duty Tora considered finding a way into the disused garage help the ladies with their brawl, but unless those four random ne’er-do-wells on motorcycles turned out to be packing some serious firepower or special abilities, he figured it was them trapped in there with his friends rather than the other way around. Besides, if anything actually got dicey in there they could always cheese it in order to get some backup.
The real problem lay out on the street; Tora and Poppi weren’t the only ones who caught wind of the commotion inside. While the typical pedestrians might cast the graffiti-plastered garage door a troubled glance, they wouldn’t venture to look into it any further, but the same couldn’t be said for the G-men loitering around Chaps’. After turning in unison to stare at the source of the hubbub for a few moments, they confirmed it to be enough of a disturbance to warrant their combined attention, and at once the ominous trio marched off from the gas station toward the crosswalk.
“This is bad!” Tora fretted, flapping his wings. “If snoopypons get involved, no telling what happen to friends! Tangle with law enforcement or worse big-big problem!”
Poppi nodded, her worry writ plain on her face. “Trouble is, how get them off scent without land in hot water ourselves? Masterpon on roll today, so any bright ideas?”
“Tora working on it,” the Nopon muttered, looking every which way for something to use to his advantage. He now found himself in quite the pickle. How could he and Poppi possibly get these strange but single-minded people off his allies’ backs? If only he had the slightest clue who they were or how they worked. He could only assume them to be lawmen of some stripe, or some other kind of clandestine enforcer. That made fighting them a non-option, so he needed to play this smart. But distracting them with an even greater crime would only paint the targets on his and Poppi’s backs, instead. Unless…
His eye landed on the conspicuous sign near Chaps’ front door that read no drinking under 21. That would have to do. He cleared his throat, raised his voice, and started to act. “Oh, what beautiful day it is to be wide-eyed, innocent minor, just thirteen years of age!” he declared, loud enough for the G-men to hear. Like dogs who’d heard a whistle, the G-men looked over. “From shady character, Tora hear about fun place for drinking of tasty beverages in back of gas station. What great adventure!” He nudged Poppi.
Familiar with her Masterpon’s thinking, his companion caught on quick. “Poppi technically less than year old, but that sound like excellent idea! Poppi drink lots and lots!”
The G-men, alerted by the possibility of underage drinking, had turned in the duo’s direction. Compared to the situation across the street, this infraction no doubt seemed a lot more clear-cut, not to mention in conveniently closer proximity. Now to lead them astray. “Meh meh!” Tora cheered, waddling into Chaps with exaggerated swings of his arms. “Off Tora go to have innocence of youth squandered and sink into life of depravity and addiction, through no fault of own!”
“...Depending on who ask, Tora already not far off,” Poppi muttered under her breath, following him inside.
Brows raised, the G-men hurried over and plastered themselves against the windows. “Not the innocence of youth!” one lamented, his delivery still deadpan.
“Being filthy grease monkeys, we have no reason to be inside,” his coworker mourned, his sympathetic hand on the shoulder of the first. “We are powerless to stop this boy’s descent into crapulence.”
“Steady, my fellow mechanics,” the third cautioned the others. He held his little spanner up to his eyes and peered through its jaws like a pair of binoculars. “Nothing has happened just yet. If he does commit this misdemeanor, we can arrest him on the way out. We may also be able to finally catch Anaconda’s staff in the act of selling alcohol to the underaged.”
With the G-men watching and waiting intently for a crime to occur, Tora and Poppi crossed through the gas station to the bar hidden away in the back, Anaconda. Of course, the bouncer saw them coming from where she sat in front of the counter, and with a sour look stood to obstruct them. When she stood, the four black and gold machine arms that Tora assumed were decor for her chair instead went with her, attached to her back. He balked little at the realization, figuring that the mechanical limbs must be terribly heavy, for the woman’s steps were slow, heavy, and purposeful. Right now they appeared to be folded up behind her, her giant revolvers stowed, but she still possessed plenty of menace. As she drew close enough to tower over Tora, it became clear that he didn’t really think this through. Although, the Nopon couldn’t help but stare at some of her other heavy equipment, so his mind wasn’t exactly in the right place.
Jona glowered down at him while the few other patrons in Anaconda looked on. Judging by the red of her face, she’d been drinking already herself. “What’re you gawkin’ at, ya weird little potato?” she drawled, hooking her thumbs into her belt. “Can’t ya read the sign? Twenty one and up only! Get lost!”
“Meh-meh?” The Nopon looked up at her with a surprised look. “What pink lady mean? Both of us definitely heavier than twenty one pounds.” He turned up his nose, averting his gaze. “Please to hurry up and get finest booze, Tora just arrived in town and is thirsty!”
With a pissed-off growl Jona grit her teeth. One of her robot limbs unfolded and grabbed Tora by the overalls, lifting him into the air. She got so up in his face that Tora could smell the alcohol in her breath. “Maybe your ears don’t work so good, fuzzy. I don’t care who or where you came from. My bar’s the only one in town, so I’ve got brats crawlin’ all over the place tryin’ to get their hands on my booze, and if a single one of ‘em gets so much as a swig, I’ll get shut the hell down! So beat it!”
Tora weighed his options. If he left, he’d be leaving the G-men free to go after his friends at best, and getting himself accosted for something or other at worst. As he tried to muster up a response, however, Poppi stepped forward. She firmly took hold of the robot arm’s wrist, a cold and pointed look directed at Jona. “Please unhand Masterpon, ma’am. There no need to be rude.”
Ultimately Tora doubted that this woman really meant to hurt him. If she refused to serve alcohol to kids, assaulting one probably didn’t rank highly on her to-do list. She probably just wanted to scare him off. But this rough treatment rubbed him the wrong way, he needed a diversion to occupy the snoops’ attention while he and Poppi got away, and he sure didn’t have any better ideas. He also knew something that Jona didn’t, which meant that like it or not, she’d be playing into his hand. Tora made his decision.
“Poppi, help me!” he cried, scrabbling at the robot hand with his wings.
In response the artificial blade crushed the machine’s wrist, breaking the joint and crumpling the forearm. Bullets stored point-first on its outer side clattered to the floor in a shower of pings and tinks. Jona blinked in disbelief at the assault on her person, then scowled in anger at Poppi, her eyes agleam. “You metal bitch! Ugh!”
She swung the mechanical arm to smash Poppi with her Masterpon’s own body, but she opened her arms to grab him and pull him free from the machine’s failing grasp. Snarling, she aimed a kick at Tora, but Poppi twisted around to protect him by taking the blow to her own back. It barely did any damage, but did force her to stumble away, at which point the front door to Chaps burst open. The G-men stepped inside, their wrenches brandished like swords. They threw them like boomerangs, and one struck Jona in the head.
“Assault in progress! Direct action authorized!”
“Violent liquor peddler! Stand down now!”
“We will not allow you to corrupt the youth!”
“Damn it, damn it!” A hand on her new head wound, Jona vaulted over and took cover behind her bar. She didn’t understand what provoked such a violent outburst on her part, but she knew she was in for it now. Her other three robot limbs unfolded, seizing the three revolvers holstered at her waist. With the arm she used to reload crippled she only had eighteen shots, but that for someone like her that just meant fifteen shots to spare. With a pull of her trigger she put a hole through the head of the foremost G-men, and as he dropped the other two took cover behind the shelves of convenience store snacks. All around, screaming customers were fleeing the building, but Jona narrowed her focus and fired.
Her second bullet pierced the shelf and downed the second G-man, which filled Tora -watching from behind an overturned table, with terror. “Poppi,” he whispered urgently. “We screw up and mess with wrong person. Need take out threat now before threat take out Poppi!”
The artificial blade’s face spelled out her anguish, but she understood that her life was now on the line; a single bullet could be her end. “Nothing for it.” As Jona downed the third G-man she shifted gears into QT Pi mode, then activated her new power. “Engaging Nano Orange,” she stated, entering her super mode before blazing out from cover in a burst of speed. Jona recognized the threat instantly and shot with all three revolvers, but for the first time in a long time, she missed. Poppi was a green-and-orange blur, zigzagging through the bar with uncanny speed and agility. Jona fired again and again, even hitting a couple times, but not one was a money shot. After a few seconds, Poppi got her angle, and lunged toward her foe with a jet-propelled kick. Jona tried to block with all four arms, but when the kick struck it completely annulled her guard, blowing the arms apart from one another and reducing Jona’s defense to zero. As she staggered Poppi somersaulted, her variable saber blazing forth, in order to execute a falling slash and end the fight.
Tora sighed with relief, only to gasp as the G-men stirred. Something black bubbled from their wounds, but they were still very much alive. “Poppi!” he cried as he took off running for the exit used by the other customers. “Leg it!”
His companion sighed, took the spirit of the fallen woman, and rushed out after Tora.
With a plan of action decided (or at the very least, not objected to) and no time left on the clock, the Seekers and their newfound allies split up. First, Raz and Roxas retraced their steps to slip back out the pet shop’s rear exit, where they goaded the G-men on stakeout there into chasing them. They’re smart not to make so much noise that they also alert those up front, Peach thought. Speaking of, Geralt volunteered for the dangerous task of stalling the Turk and his men up front through more conventional means. Though she knew it to be selfish of her, Peach breathed a sigh of relief. For a minute it seemed like that task might fall to her, and truth be told she didn’t know if she had the speechcraft to pull off such a feat. Bede hurried to join Geralt there, so the princess wished both of them luck.
She, the Special Operations Unit trio, and the robots waited with bated breath -be that literally or just metaphorically- as the conversation up front began, muffled by the door between the storeroom and the main floor, as well as by the noise of the dogs, cats, and other animals up for adoption. Peach missed most of the words, but whoever it was confronting Geralt didn’t exactly sound calm. Her team needed to hurry. Luckily, it sounded like the runners had done their jobs, as the hasty footfalls of the G-men out back faded into the distance. Giovanna, listening at the back door, cracked it open to take a peek. Then gave a firm nod and beckoned the others. “It’s clear. C’mon!”
Once she swung the door open, Peach, Blazermate, Susie, and the twins sprinted out into the backstreet. Sure enough, the G-men were gone, but Peach was hardly at peace. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and anxiety coursed through her veins along with the blood. Though she knew neither Raz nor Roxas to say for sure, she could only trust in their wits and agility to see them through. Those up front had it even worse, since they’d need to throw off what seemed to be the enemy leader before making their own escape. As for Tora, Poppi, Sakura, Karin, Midna, and Pit, the princess had no idea. They could be anywhere in the city by now, totally oblivious to the departure time now only minutes away. She needed a sure-fire way to get their attention, whether or not it also got the attention of every enemy in Gutsford.
Right now though, she needed to run. Summoning her wolf spirit Rei, Giovanna zoomed off like a track runner off the starting line. Rather than run, she executed a series of lightning-quick dashes, building up remarkable momentum while still being able to turn on a dime. Blazermate and Susie took off, leaving the others to fend for themselves as the pair blazed their own trail through the sky. As the twins ran off after Giovanna, Peach brought up the rear, at least until Geralt and Bede burst out of the pet shop to race after them. That could only mean one thing: the enemy was in pursuit. Such knowledge made the runners all the faster.
The group moved quickly between (or over) the buildings of Gutsford. Those who couldn’t soar above and see the school town’s bottom-right point for themselves followed Giovanna as closely as they could to avoid getting lost, as demanding a task as that might be, since only the scarlet-haired kickboxer knew the way. At the back of the pack, Geralt managed to put some distance between himself and Benedict thanks to being a lot more spry for his age, and through various chase-breakers like toppled trash cans and Yrden signs. Rather than fret about everyone else, though, Peach took a page from Blazermate and Susie’s books and focused on just herself. She ran like her life depended on it, and thanks to her Olympic physique (further toughened by fusion with the naval soldier Chao Ho) quickly overtook the blue-suited brothers.
Of course, not everything was sunshine and daisies. The team spotted plenty more G-men on the way, whether ‘working’ on roads with shovels and signs, ‘trimming’ hedges with clippers, or carrying around trash bags as garbage men. Though luckily they didn’t seem to be on high alert, their squads forced the earthbound escapees to find ways around. That meant cutting through crowded streets, jumping off cars, and in a couple cases storming straight through buildings. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Peach told the panicked people as her team passed through, but since she’d be a lot more sorry if any of the G-men caught her, she did not waver.
Peach didn’t keep track of how many minutes went by, but it felt like no time at all before she saw Giovanna exit onto the southern main street up ahead, followed shortly by herself. Just down the sidewalk to the left was Gutsford’s southeastern roundabout, with the Trade Depot towering overhead and a fleet of ten or twelve white trucks out front, just as Giovanna described. Just a few feet away, Blazermate and Susie landed safely. Peach wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her sports suit. “We made it!” she cheered hoarsely, somewhat out of breath.
Over in the depot’s loading yard, a couple of students were working part-time to load the last of what little cargo would returning with the trucks to Midgar, including a plain cardboard box. “Man, this thing weighs a ton!” one of the guys complained.
“Then put your back into it!” his burlier friend grunted. “They’re literally waiting on us!”
Peach wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her sports suit. “We made it!” she cheered hoarsely, somewhat out of breath..
“Don’t celebrate just yet,” Giovanna warned, patting Rei on the head. Sure enough, the roar of engines signaled the imminent departure of the Seekers’ rides. “Hurry up!”
The team made a break for the trucks. As she ran, Peach put into practice the idea she’d come up with on the way over. She summoned Grimm’s revolver to her hand and aimed it skyward. With a squeeze of the trigger she sent the shrieking spirits of the damned howling into the air, nearly shattering the eardrums -and mental health- of everyone in the vicinity. Peach winced, her face tightened like she’d just sucked on a lemon. It really was a hideous noise. More importantly, though, it was loud, and after the meet-and-greet back at Twilight Town, a sound that everyone recognized.
Up ahead, Giovanna launched herself into the air with powerful legs, somersaulting up onto the roof of the last truck. Peach double-jumped up to join her, followed by the robot ladies, before all four worked together to hoist doctors M and N aboard. “Spread out!” Giovanna urged. “If we’re all on the same truck, we’re sitting ducks!” As the group dispersed, Peach kept a nervous eye out, only to see a real sight for sore eyes.
Already in the vicinity before being drawn in by the familiar din of Peach’s pistol, none other than Midna, Sakura, Tora, and Poppi were approaching from the garage and gas station on the right. Those first two seemed to have procured a motorcycle, too! Meanwhile, Raz and Roxas came from the left, with Karin and Pit -having remained along the southern street between the two travel hubs after their investigation- not too far behind. Finally, Geralt and Bede appeared over the Trade Depot’s back wall and hurtled through the empty lot. Everyone had made it!
And not a second too soon. With the last of the cargo loaded and the rear doors latched shut, the fleet of trucks pulled away. They rolled out two abreast, with each pair following right behind the last. The latecomers needed to hustle -or make use of Midna’s stashed vehicles- to climb aboard before the last trucks joined in the procession to leave Midgar in their dust.
“Meeeeh!” Tora wheezed, only barely flown up to the top of a truck in time by Poppi Qt Pi. He plopped down on the roof as the vehicle picked up speed, causing his tufts of fur to blow in the wind. “That take years off poor Tora life!”
Poppi took a headcount of the Seekers, noting their well-dressed new allies as she did. She feared that for the second time that day the heroes might have left someone behind, but to her relief, everyone was here. “It good thing we see and here you when we did!” she called to Peach, her voice raised over the wind. “Good thing we leave, too. Things suddenly got dangerous.”
“I can imagine!” From farther up in the convoy, Giovanna shouted back at the others, her low voice not suited for yelling. “We’ll get you all up to speed later, just steer clear of any other G-men we run into! Once our chopper meets us, we’ll be on our way to Midgar!”
With the temperate school town in the rear view mirror, the terrain quickly gave way to the scrubland, a rocky wilderness of ridges and gorges, cliffs and valleys. Giant buttes towered above the acacias like silent colossi, while the odd oasis could be found scattered around, surrounded by vegetation. The land trended downward, then suddenly upward, precipitating a gargantuan spiky ravine whose dimensions Poppi could only guess at. Given all the abrupt verticality at work here, navigating the network of canyons would be like driving through a maze, but the strange, almost drippy black roads that bridged the gaps like the humps of a sea serpent would make things simple. Hopefully. By now Poppi expected that things would never be that easy, and the best thing about having low expectations was that she’d never end up disappointed.
A minute or two later, just after the fleet of trucks crested over a hill between two ridges and splashed through a shallow pond, the roar of another engine resounded from behind them. Over the hump flew a school bus, hanging in the air for a split second before it crashed down with a tremendous noise in a cloud of dust. Poppi whirled around, on alert, and identified a G-man behind the wheel. He smirked, tipping his new hat, then pulled a lever. The emergency hatch on the top of the bus popped open as the bus gained ground, and from the opening sprang a squad of G-men, led by a gentleman unfamiliar to all except Geralt and Bede. He landed with practiced precision on the bus’ roof wielding a cane sword in one hand and an electric tower shield of bulletproof glass in the other, then stood. “By the authority of the Midgar Public Security division, you people are all hereby under arrest!” he shouted at them, having to speak up despite his usual calm and collected demeanor.
“Careful up there old timer, you’ll sprain a hip!” Giovanna yelled, gesturing for everyone to move to the front of the convoy. “While you’re at it, tell the Turks they can shove it!”
“I thought as much.” Benedict flourished his cane at the G-men, calling to them. The school bus pulled up to the rearmost trucks, closer and closer. “Agents. Detain them, by any means necessary.”
The nearest one, wielding a plunger, seemed to smile as the red glow in his eyes intensified, reaching up to take hold of his hat. “...Finally.” He brought his hat down over his face, and when it passed it left behind not teal skin, but a sludgy, pitch-black substance like tar. Abruptly he exploded into red-tinged black fog, transforming into a twelve-foot demon seated on a toilet that floated in the air. All around the other G-men followed suit, leaping to the tops of the last few trucks in the procession and exploding into monsters on impact. The one with hedge trimmers became the electric severer of fate Atropos. The one with a phone became Trumpeter, harbinger of nuclear doom. The one with a wrench became the blacksmith Ippon-Datara, a physical powerhouse with his mighty sledgehammer. The one with the trash bag became Sandman, a wind-aligned slinger of sleep. The one with a road work sign became Morax, demonic dealer of vengeful flame. And lastly, the one with a watering can became the diminutive shocker Agathion. Together the seven fanned across the treacherous shifting battlefield to attack. Atropos, Trumpeter, and Agathion began to cast their respective elements, while Ippon-Datara, Morax, and Belphegor moved in for melee attacks. Sandman, meanwhile, bided his time, waiting for the perfect chance to send someone to sleep and drop them to the desert to be run over and left behind.
As she and Sectonia jogged back from the ruin-crowded corner of the cave toward the flowerbed where the battle raged on, Nadia wondered briefly what to do with her ill-gotten gains. Considering how long the stuff she carried around with her tended to last nowadays, using it straight away seemed like a much better idea. The ‘idea’ of fusing with that pale, veiny, multi-headed monstrosity repulsed her, but that wasn’t all she could do with it. “No way I’m fusin’ with that uggo,” she said aloud. “But havin’ a grappler in my back pocket sounds purr-etty ‘handy’...” Nadia held the spirit up in front of her. “So how do I make it into a Striker? Just look at it real intense and say ‘you work for me now’?”
To her surprise, that actually provoked a response. The spirit melted away into motes of prismatic light that flowed into her, and since Nadia didn’t sprout extra fingers or anything, she took it to mean that the spiritbond worked. “...Huh. Cool.” Weird, but Nadia wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
New Striker spiritbound: Idea A tall, gaunt, veiny, pulsating monstrosity. It operates on a medium cooldown timer, and with its three signature attacks offers a lot of flexibility despite its very brief appearances. Its primary purpose is to lunge forward and grab, taking hold of an opening even if they’re blocking in order to deal some damage which Nadia can combo after given the chance. It can also unleash a flurry of blood slices that deal slashing damage, or let out a short-range psychic scream that can stagger a foe for a second
With that taken care of, she approached the flowerbed and took stock of the underground battlefield. One of the weirder monsters that showed up, the giant gunk-stuffed turkey, ended up taking the entire Koopa Troop to put down, but together the team achieved a hard-fought victory. Rather than bug out into the darkness, the Knight ended up helping Omori against that bizarre jigsaw monster, proving that the little ones weren’t kidding around.
Her eyes fell on the billowing flame and smoke from Junicorn’s metal husk just as the monster inside finished burning to death, leaving its partially-melted shell to follow suit by turning to ash as well. One of the other monsters, the bulky fungal brute that Nadia wanted nothing to do with herself, trundled toward the wounded Octopath Travelers to finish what it started. Before it could reach them, Jesse answered their call for help by hurling her own awful adversary into it like a giant acid bomb. Nadia watched, somewhere between impressed and horrified, as the redhead then strolled up to finish it off with a withering barrage from her service weapon. “...Jeez, Jess,” she laughed once the FBC director finished mopping up. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
That left just one monster: the freakish electric jester with all the orange mace-heads protruding from its flesh. While the other Seekers faced off against their respective opponents, Zzap went for Rubick, blasting the mage with chain lightning. Rubick’s agility and resistance mitigated the damage a lot, but he clearly had trouble adjusting to both the horror’s attacks and the pace at which it fought. Luckily for him, he had plenty of allies to back him up. While Primrose and Junior attended to the wounded, including themselves, the rest of the seekers converged on Zzap, shooting and punching and tearing the monster to pieces in a matter of seconds. With its demise, the Ruins went quiet once more, except for the hum of Warmth and casts of Cure.
For a few seconds, at least. Barely did the team get a chance to breathe, heal up, or take a gander at the cavernous Ruins they’d fallen into, before reinforcements arrived. A squad of four round, one-eyed, leering Loox appeared from one of the tunnels, led by a single, larger Astigmatism with twice the horns. With them was a single Froggit.
“Huh!?” the ringleader shouted in stunned disbelief. “Junicorn and the others…you monsters!” It grabbed the Froggit by the shoulder and shook it. “Hey, pea green! Get out of here and warn the boss!”
The Froggit recoiled, clearly nervous. “W-what, me?”
“Yeah you, mucus-for-brains!” Astigmatism pushed the amphibian away. “Hop to it! We’ll pick on these murderers!”
Turning tail, the Froggit began to hop back the way it came. At the same time, the crowd of exercise ball-sized monsters spread out. Nadia readied herself, although the runaway worried her more. If these monsters had a boss, she and the other Seekers probably didn’t want it knowing where they were. The Loox attacked, shooting out bursts of five small light balls apiece with terrible accuracy, provided that their opponents didn’t blast them first. Their projectiles flew slowly and ricocheted off whatever -or whoever- they hit, which given the amount of space in this cavern reduced them to a non-threat in record time. Worse still, their projectiles did low damage by default, but even less to the heroes of higher levels. Nadia looked down as once orb bounced off her belly, barely leaving a mark. She straightened up, her claws returned to normal as a bemused look overtook her. “Huh…” The Loox began conjuring snakelike projectile beads to wind through the air, and Astigmatism joined in with faster bouncing light rings plus three-ring revolvers, but all of the feral’s fighting spirit had already drained away.
“Uh, one of you deal with whatever this is.” She broke off into a run, turning back to look at the others as she did. “We probably oughta see about that frog.”
She took off running on all fours and breezed past the monster squad, leaving them in her dust as she raced down the stone brick-lined tunnel. With her keen eyes and ears she need only follow the echoed plop-plop-plop of froggy feet on the floor until she spotted it hopping through the darkness. “There you are,” she muttered, advancing until she spotted something odd in the Ruins’ dim ambient light: a crumpled bit of paper lying on the floor up ahead. Just a little farther, the tunnel wall gave way to a gaping hole, and when Nadia stopped in front of it she looked down to see another huge cavern extending downward, full of thin platforms layered atop one another by wrought-iron supports like a giant jungle gym. Here, the purple Ruins stone seemed to intermix with more alien blue-black architecture not unlike that of Dirtmouth. It went down a long way, full of hanging chains and gently pulsing fireflies, but among the mists and bulbous shapes along the cavern walls she spotted more pieces of paper, and a distant humming welled up from far below. The scraps seemed to lead toward it, a literal paper trail, and given her intel from Iselda Nadia could guess what. She turned back to look at the other Seekers following her and waved, pointing downward. “Here’s a way deeper in. I heard there might be a mapmaker named Cornifer down here too, so we oughta see where these papers lead!” she called.
When she turned around, however, the Froggit was far ahead. Couldn’t be helped given the importance of a possible map find, but now Nadia really needed to book it to catch up. She took a deep breath and sprinted after it.
“Toriel, Toriel!” a little voice called, echoing through the silence of the Temple of the Black Egg. The goat lady looked up, taken by surprise; she’d only crossed about half the room since leaving Ganondorf to his lonesome imprisonment, and had been looking forward to a quiet walk through the ruins to put together her thoughts. Instead she found a Froggit racing toward her. “There’s killers on the loose! Th-they got Juni, and Ang, and Idea, and-and Zzap!”
Toriel’s tray clattered to the floor, the plates and porcelain cup shattering with more noise than the Temple had ever known. “What!? Intruders!?”
“Yeah! Stiggy and the others, they’re gonna hold ‘em off, but…” Froggit broke out crying. “The others were way stronger! If the intruders took them out, Stiggy and the Loox are next! Then it’s us, ‘cause they’re coming here!”
Toriel clutched at her heart, her breathing panicked. “They must be coming…to free the King of Evil!” Clenching her jaw, she took hold of the Water Sage’s Sword and pulled it from its sheath. Can I really beat enemies stronger than the likes of Dizy and Stuffed? She turned slowly, her eyes on Ganondorf. Despair welled up inside her. Maybe not, she thought, tightening her grip as she approached the prisoner. But I have to do something…
She stopped just a few feet away from Ganondorf, her anguish plain to see on her face. “...I’m sorry,” she told him. “But I can’t let the King of Evil go free. Not if it’ll give rise to more murder and suffering. If I can’t stop them freeing you…” she took her sword in both hands and lifted it up, her movements hesitant with palpable regret. “I have to…!”
At that moment Nadia sprinted into the cavern and slid to a stop, taken aback by the scenery–by the vast chamber, the dangling lights, the Black Egg, and the man cruelly chained across its entrance. “Holy mackerel, this place…!” she exclaimed. Her eyes fell on Toriel, Froggit, and Ganondorf. “Eggs-cuse me~?”
Distracted, Toriel lowered her guard and whirled around, her eyes all too easily averted from the killer enchained before her.
Edinburgh MagicaPolis
Level 8 Big Band (24/80) Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Red’s @TruthHurts22 Word Count: 1600
As Band followed Lucia through the police station, he couldn’t help but notice the overt lack of hospitality among the other officers. There seemed to be no shortage of them keeping warm in here among the desks and lockers rather than out on the town. While Band hardly expected them to roll out the red carpet for anyone, let alone a lawman from another precinct, they seemed determined to make him feel unwelcome with a mixture of stares, glowers, and curled lips. Conversely, a number of them let their eyes rove over Lucia with brazen salaciousness. Band made a conscious effort to keep his face from tightening until he left the open area of the station behind, stomping through dimly-lit halls to find the police chief.
Soon after the surreptitious whispers and leering chuckles faded away into the background, a strange new sound replaced them from up ahead. It sounded like someone stretching or ripping coarse, stiff fabric, either burlap or something equally fibrous. As it grew louder, clearly coming from the office to which Band and Lucia were headed, the detective picked up on another sound beneath it: heavy, labored breathing, less like someone hyperventilating from exhaustion and more like a ravenous feaster gasping for breath between gluttonous mouthfuls of food. Undeterred, Lucia knocked on the door, then opened it up and stepped inside.
Once Band bent down to follow her through, he stood up to see a huge office absolutely stuffed with taxidermied animals. Wolf, deer, armadillo, buffalo, raccoon, and more all stared down from their trophy stands and wall mounts, their eyes glassy and lifeless. Other lavish decorations filled the place, from ornate rugs to heavy wooden desks and tables of antique style. Band took it in listlessly. It smelled of chemicals in here. Wonder if the cityfolk appreciate how their tax dollars are being spent, he thought. In front of the long window, silhouetted by the pale afternoon light that poured through it, was a heavyset man with short gray hair bent over a table blanketed in lengths of hide and cloudlike heaps of cotton. Back turned to his guests, he continued to jam stuffing into the hide before him, then sew up the seams bit by bit.
“Ch-chief Iyans,” Lucia hailed him, her voice more tentative than before. “Detective Bahdland to see ya, sah.”
Band stepped forward. “Afternoon, sir. How d’you do?”
Without turning around, Irons responded in a gruff tone. “Detective Bahdland, huh?” he asked, mimicking Lucia’s accent in a mocking tone. “Don’t recognize that one. You from out of town, Bahdland?”
“That’s correct.” Band bristled slightly, but kept his tone even. “N.M.P.D. I’ve been sent here to help with…a major ongoing case.”
“That right?” Chief Irons turned around for the first time, revealing a mustache and sagging features. His face already looked dour, as if begrudging the interruption, but once he looked the newcomer up and down his eyes turned hard and flinty. He glanced over at Lucia in annoyance, like she’d wasted his time, and let go of his tools. “You can go now, dollface,” he told her coldly as he made his way toward his desk.
Lucia cleared her throat and clasped her hands behind her back. “With all due respect, sah, I’m a detective too. If theah’s somethin’ big goin’ on, I wanna help.”
After seating himself, Irons glared at her. “Really? Could’ve fooled me, with all the time you spend playing cowboy. Since it seems like you’ve forgotten, let me remind you: you’re on desk duty ‘til you’ve gotten a handle on that hothead of yours. Then again, maybe a demotion to meter maid out in the snow would cool you off faster. How about it?”
Rubbing her arm in agitation, Lucia looked down at the floor. “N-no, sah. Sorry, sah. I’ll just, uh, get back to my desk.”
“Then get going,” Irons told her. “And don’t make me tell you again.”
“Yes, sah.” She gave Band an apologetic look for not being able to help him more, then beat a hasty retreat.
“And grab me a fresh cup of ‘kwaffy’ while you’re at it!” the police chief called after her as he watched her leave, then leaned back in his desk chair with his arms crossed. He turned toward Band. “So, big fella. Here to help, huh? Well, it’s kind of you to offer, having come all this way. Maybe we don’t need any help. Especially from outsiders. Maybe we’ve got the situation perfectly under control here, and everything’s just fine. So you can just take it easy. Enjoy the city, and when you go back, tell whoever sent you the E.M.P.D. has things covered.”
Band inhaled through his nose, then exhaled through his mouth. “I see, I see. Well, that is a relief. Got things well in hand, hm? I’ll just let the brass know Chief Irons has it all handled, then.” He took a good look around the office, studying the police chief’s choice in decor. Something occurred to him that he’d mentally glossed over before. “Ah, sorry,” he apologized after a moment. “Couldn’t help but notice…you’ve got quite the collection here, sir. Must be a man of great taste.”
Irons raised an eyebrow. “Caught your eye, hm? I’m surprised. Most folks see my collection here and turn up their noses. Too dull or squeamish to appreciate it. You into the art of taxidermy, uh, Birdland, was it?”
“Oh, just call me Band,” the detective said, noting the instant attitude shift once he brought up what he rightly guessed must be Irons’ favorite subject. He chose his next words carefully. “I can recognize quality wherever I see it, sir,” he said. “Stuff like music, though, it’s dime-a-dozen. It’s rare I get the honor to meet a master of this. ‘Specially since the animals melt away into ash the minute you kill ‘em off.”
Irons groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, a pain in the damn ass, isn’t it? I don’t remember when it started happening, but I remember being on a hunting trip on the mainland. Shot a deer, went to slice its belly open, but before its warm guts even spilled out the whole carcass was up in smoke. But I found a way around.”
Now Band raised an eyebrow. “Now ain’t that something. Just as I’d expect of Chief Irons. Don’t suppose you’d care to drop a hint for…a fellow stitcher, tryin’ to follow in your footsteps?”
“Well, it’s not really a secret,” Irons shrugged, pulling a cigar from his desk drawer. “Litany of Proper Death, it’s called. There’s this…” He shook his head dismissively. “Order of monks or some bologna, I dunno, but their hocus-pocus is the real deal. They go out with hunting parties all the time, and once they do their little magic tricks everything starts dying like it’s supposed to.” His eyes rested on his new hides as he heaved a heavy sigh. “Looks like these’re gonna have to last me a while, though.”
Still grappling with the new information, Band tucked the new thread away and reached out for the next as fast as he could. “Why’s that, Chief? Magic stop workin’?”
“More like the damn clerics did,” Irons grumbled. “Right after I got my last shipment from the Fishing Village a couple days back, all the shit with the skeletons at night got started. Made all the clerics go cuckoo, ranting about the living dead and whatnot.” He suddenly turned back to Band, eying Band suspiciously. “Hey, we have it under control though, got it? Don’t go sticking that big nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Band’s eyebrow twitched as he gave a thin smile. His mind was racing in overdrive. “Of course. Perish the thought. Just realizin’ I probably ought to tuck in early.”
“Or leave before nightfall,” Irons not-so-subtly suggested.
“That works too.” Band gave a slight bow of his head, then turned to go. “Thank ya for your time…Chief.”
Irons watched him go, drumming his fingers on his desk as the gears turned. After a good few moments he heard the front door close, at which point he hit a buzzer on his desk. “...Stryker. Nightingale. Byte. Get in here.”
Soon, three officers stood side by side in his office. One was an ex-FBI agent who looked unkempt and unwell. Another, surly and muscular, was a hard-faced riot cop. The last was a blue and yellow machine, part clockwork, part magic, and one hundred percent loyal. Irons sized them up one by one. “Looks like we’ve got someone poking around on our turf, boys. Keep an eye on him, will you? And if he overstays his welcome…well, escort him out of the city. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the three chorused, saluting. They filed out of the office, closed the door behind them, and made for the armory. Once alone, Irons stood to head over to his taxidermy table and resume his work.
Outside in the hall, Lucia poked her head out from behind the corner, a coffee pot held in one hand and a fed-up look on her face. When the sound of stitching began again, she hurried down the hall to her desk, where she left the coffee pot. From the closet by the front door she pulled a heavy winter coat, threw it on, then hustled out into the cold.
With less than five hours to go, and just three out of the seven monsters that have attacked Purple Team defeated, I wish everyone the best of luck! I would encourage posting at least something since doing nothing in a dangerous situation will probably result in taking damage (this is what's called a Prompt Failure). This will not apply to the Adventurer if we can't confirm that he joined the rest of the team going down into the Under IC. After tonight's update, everyone will get the choice to keep fighting or to take a different path.
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>