Current
Wash away the sorrow all the stains of time
3 mos ago
Fusing into the unknown
3 mos ago
Looks like from here it, it only gets better
2
likes
8 mos ago
Forgotten footfalls, engraved in ash
9 mos ago
Stalling falling blossoms in bloom
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.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious> Lugu, my man, what's shaking. Been a minute.
Hey there, how's it going. I can definitely say, I don't 'get out much' around the forum. Pretty much just running World of Light for years now.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>
Feel free to apply! Nobody is entitled to a spot, and if you want in, give it a shot!
That's encouraging! I might do so. Although, whenever I've tried applying to an RP with limited slots, and the GM picks the best from all the candidates to make the cut, I have a zero percent success rate of getting selected. But maybe it'll be my lucky day.
Goodness, this RP certainly looks like a rising star. I've had a Persona-shaped hole in my heart for a good while now. But it looks like even the pool of those who've already declared interest is a couple times bigger than the goal group size of 4-7, so it might not be time to take a fresh crack at a Hanged Man. Still, I'd be interested in keeping my eyes on this.
For the Binding of Isaac team, let's go ahead and for everyone's reference set a scale of what enemies are appearing and in what waves, with the ones dealt with by Ms Fortune already crossed out:
After the thunderous outcry shook the room, it took Nadia only a quick moment to recover from her terror, and as she scrambled back onto her feet her face was close to beet-red. She was flush with a potent cocktail and fury and embarrassment, directed almost as much toward herself as whatever nebulous, amorphous entity lurked just beyond this archaic chamberâs ghastly confines. What good was her plucky, happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care attitude if she kept letting herself get spooked by cheap scares like this, after all?
On the other hand, she knew it wasnât worth fretting over. Before her eyes, tumors of twisted flesh oozed from the cracks in the floors and walls, swelling into malignant growths large enough to give birth to yet more odious monstrosities. Some tightly clutched weapons like staves or claws close to their chests, a feeble attempt either to preserve the facade or hold fast to some semblance of long-lost humanity, while others veiled themselves as best they could beneath tenebrous robes. At the feet of the warriors groveled unclothed thralls, their infested skin sloughing from their bones as they plaintively clasped their hands, gibbering in ecstatic delirium. The Cultists' skin stretched into humanoid shapes, with scraps of clothing and armor shuffling into their proper places, but Nadia knew what they were. Eldritch horrors or not, they were just more enemies to kill, and now they stood before her, bloated and squishy like so many overripe tomatoes ripe for the harvesting. The feral hardened her claws and gave voice to her rage, her instinctive hatred of these things that should not be. âYouâre mincemeat!â she snarled, less a pun and more a promise.
Then Momâs leg crashed down from above, forcing Nadia and all the other Seekers to scramble for their lives. A blood-propelled dash got her out of harmâs way, and in a flash Nadia wheeled around to take revenge on the loathsome limb. With her hands on the ground she used Fiber Upper to extend her segments upward with lethal force. Negating contact damage through that invincible reversal technique, she plunged her feet deep into the legâs grotesque outer layer of sagging adipose tissue, then kicked her legs into gear to drill even deeper. A guttural grunt echoed through the room as the leg rapidly began to rise, and Nadia hurried to snap her legs back down in a spray of torn flesh.
Nadia hopped to her feet. With the Seekers spread out, the Cultists were converging on their targets, with the thralls pushing themselves along behind their ascended masters. Yet they seemed to move just a little slower than they ought toâor else Nadia herself had been made faster. It felt -and sounded- like Sectonia wanted this freakshow dealt with quickly. âCominâ right up.â Nadia smirked, pulling out one anchor to twirl on its chain as she withdrew her new Bait Launcher from where sheâd stuffed it in her hoodieâs inside pocket. âMeat your maker!â She took aim and fired at an incoming Brawler, and though the steak that slapped against his golden mask barely registered, the tiger that poofed into existence behind him was another matter. With a roar it reared up and swiped with its massive mitts, gouging out chunks of squirming, beady-eyed flesh from the Brawlerâs exposed back.
âHnnnngh.â Rumbling like an upset stomach, the Brawler turned to block the remainder of the big catâs vicious onslaught. Nadiaâs anchor then swept in, cutting into the fresh open wounds on the cultistâs back. His quivering muscles squealed, signaling for Nadia to double down, but as she reeled in her anchor to hurl it like a javelin, the thrall on support duty made his move. He placed the Brawler under guard and threw himself into the projectileâs path, allowing the anchor to lodge in his chest cavity with only a rattled groan of protest. Behind him, the Brawler pushed the tiger off, and it quickly disappeared. Before Nadia could do something, a growing shadow beneath her heralded the arrival of Momâs leg, and the feral hastened to backdash out of danger.
Not in a great position to attack with her anchor pinned down, Nadia clicked her tongue and decided to use the leg as cover. She reloaded the Bait Launcher at record speed thanks to Sectoniaâs speed boost, but as the massive leg in front of her retracted, she saw her opponent reach down and grab her anchorâs chain for a mighty, two-handed yank. âWagh!â Nadia cried in surprise and dismay, her eyes wide as she flew through the air straight toward the monsterâs outstretched hand. Acting on instinct, she released a blast of blood to change her flight path, but the Brawlerâs limb metamorphosed, growing explosively into a distended tentacle to chase her down and snatch her from the air. âMmmph!â she yowled, her face buried in pulsating eldritch meat. She carved into the mutated limb with reckless abandon as the Brawler reeled her in, sensing that sheâd be able to cut loose a crucial second before being pulled into clawing range, but her enemy didnât wait. Instead his other arm erupted too, growing a serrated tusk, and the next second it rammed straight through her midsection. For a brief moment she struggled, her screams muffled, before the brute ripped downward. Nadiaâs top and bottom halves parted ways, the latter hurled behind the Brawler in a stream of blue blood. Her arms went limp, but by their handiwork the end of the cultistâs tentacle gave out the next moment, allowing the catgirlâs body to plop down on the ground.
As the battle raged on elsewhere in the room, the Brawler stood there for a moment so the thrall could heal him through grisly rite. He picked out his next target: that little boy would make for a fine appetizer. Neither he nor his attendant noticed the feralâs blood boiling up, taking on a familiar form, until the copycat buried her forearms like drills into his back. The thrall looked up just in time for an axe kick from Nadiaâs lower half to smash his head into the ground. A frenzy of stomping ensued, and the Brawler turned to finish what he started, only to find his movements even slower than usual. A wincing Nadia was propping herself up on one arm just enough for her Night Light to bathe her repulsive enemy in its restrictive glow; with the other she leveled the Bait Launcher at him once more. âYouâre crazy strongâŚâ she muttered, grinning. âBut Iâm not half bad myself!â
With a squeeze of the trigger, another projectile steak brought about the tigerâs return. While it laid waste to the cultistâs back, Nadia put her halves together again. Once the Brawler fell to his knees she moved in with a flip kick into Curtain Shredder, finishing it off. Keeping an eye out for Mom, Nadia took a quick breather. âUgh.â While the new separation point in her gut alleviated her impalement and subsequent bifurcation a whole lot, it still hurt, and after its brush with the Brawlerâs despicable flesh she didnât want the blood she put into her copycat back. She suddenly facepalmed. âDamn it, I couldâve just used the tongue monster instead.â Around the room, Momâs protuberances suddenly arose again, sending forth a fresh wave of cultists. Nadia sighed, her eyes settling on the spirit of the rapturous cultist thrall with Strikers on her mind. âYou were healinâ that thing, werenât ya? Nearly undid all the work I put in. Well, unless ya wanna get squashed, youâre gonna heal me now. Got it?â
The spiritbond completed, but before Nadia could so much as gather up her anchor, an ascended Witch looked her way. Flesh snaked across the casterâs arm and scepter as she wove Fateâs Pull, opening a rift next to the feral. A tentacle burst from the shadowy pit and grabbed Nadia, then tossed her straight toward the new quartet of enemies. Something about that attack crawled painfully through the wrinkles of Nadiaâs mind as she tumbled along the ground, forcing her to clutch her head as she staggered to her feet. A Brawler leaped at her with an overhead slam, but she pulled off a Fiber Upper in time to turn the tables. Her copycat ran after the Brawler as he sailed away, leaving her with just two enemies on hand. Still, she was too close, especially to that fearsome Priest whose flesh visibly writhed beneath its soot-covered robe.
Nadia backdashed and assumed a defensive stance with her anchors, her Night Light turned outward to intercept anything that got close, then flung one anchor at the Witch. She deftly dodged out of the way, and the Priest began to move. Desperate, Nadia aimed a wide-ranging swipe at the two of them with her other anchor, and while it clipped the Witch it flat-out stopped when it reached the Priest. To the thiefâs horror a pink tentacle emerged from its sleeve to wrap around the anchor, holding it in place. At the same time, the Witch grabbed hold of the other anchor. All of a sudden, Nadia found herself caught, stretched between her own weapons. A crumbling sound bade her look upward, and sure enough, Mom wasnât about to let this sitting duck lie. The giant red heel plummeted toward her. âGrrrrrah!â Nadia could neither tug free nor dodge as long as the monsters had her bound, so she did the only thing she could: the limbo. That let the Night Light slow the leg down just enough for her to take drastic action. The next second, the leg smashed down.
As the dust cleared and the leg withdrew, the cultists searched for a blue stain on the floor, but instead they found Nadia. She crouched against the wall where sheâd rolled, being healed by her new Striker. Confused, they peered at the anchors in their grasp. The chains were slack, and from the drum on Nadiaâs waist dangled two severed metal links. âScrew it. Long-range just ainât my style.â she spat, her breath ragged. She stood to her feet and fired the Bait Launcher, freshly reloaded. She put the gun away as a steak plopped down between the Witch and the Priest, then sharpened her claws. âTime to earn your stripes!â In a flash the tiger appeared to wreak havoc once again. With a smile Nadia dropped to all fours, wiggled her tail, and launched toward the action like a cat out of hell.
With Peach in trouble Goldlewis hustled over as fast as he could, covering multiple sidewalk tiles at a time with his huge strides, but both of his new Psych-OSF allies were speedier. They sprinted ahead of him fast enough for their cloaks to flap in the wind, with Kagero in particular hurtling along in an odd run, arms crossed as he leaned into it. Then something strange happened; one moment they were there, cruising along the street ahead of Goldlewis, and then with a shimmer they disappeared. Invisibility? the veteran wondered, making the connection for the first time. He knew that every Psych-OSF member wielded a special psychic power, but something like this went beyond any ability he might have expected.
This wasnât the time to think about that, though. Up ahead, Peach had gotten grabbed by one of the Buddy Rummies, and while she repeatedly dented its mannequin-like body with her parasol in an attempt to free herself, another succeeded in ripping off the car door. The man trapped inside, as flattened against the opposite door as he could make himself, gave a yelp, but the next moment the Other slammed down into the pavement with violent abruptness. Kagero flashed back into visibility, having broken his stealth with his killer backstab, and when the Otherâs bulb popped out he unceremoniously put his foot through it. A split second later the report of Tsugumiâs revolver heralded her own appearance as the bullet blew off another Rummyâs leg. It immediately ate dirt, becoming a sitting duck for Tsugumi to finish off with another well-placed round. An Other staggered her way with surprising speed, its severed arm held up to bludgeon the girl on the head, but she threw herself backward with a couple parting shots to stop it in its tracks. Right on cue came a thrown knife from Kagero, followed by a lunge so fast he might have just as well been a blur. After the punch he seized his embedded knife and wrenched it sideways finishing off the monster for good.
At that point Goldlewis chimed in with a flurry of minigun fire, nailing a Buddy Rummy that had been sidling along the crashed car toward the missing door. Glass shattered and sparks flew as Skyfish perforated the creature, and when the barrage ended it toppled forward. At that point his gaze went to Peach, whoâd just pushed her parasol through her attackerâs abdomen, skewering it straight through. Yet still it stubbornly clung to her, and with an irate growl the princess reached into the tangle on its chest to violently extract its spirit. The Other went limp, allowing Peach to push it away with a kick, then shatter its spirit for the kill. A small bottle of sweet, orange-flavored medicinal jelly appeared in her hand, and with the other she reached down to grab her scatterboom where it had fallen during the struggle. She leveled the explosive shotgun at the fallen Other as it tried to rise and fired point-blank. In a thunderous blast the Rummy was eradicated, and the day was saved.
âThank you, thank you all!â The man climbed from inside the car, his face glistening with sweat. âSomeoneâs damn dog was running after âem toward the shelter, and I swerved to avoid it.â He looked down the street to where Naomi and Kasane were fighting in front of a shelter. Most of the small fry had already been eliminated, thanks in part to the arrival of the girlsâ squadmates. A tall boy in a straw hat who fought with psychokinesis-controlled yoyos, a less tall but no less skinny blue girl who used her hydrokinesis to control and direct two electrified bird drones with bladed wings, and a short pink-haired girl who got up-close and person with gloves and cryokinesis. Together theyâd already managed to shatter the armor of the Wither Sabbat, and after just a couple more seconds of concentrated damage it slumped down, allowing Kasana to lift and shatter it with a Brain Crush. âThe OSF sure is amazing,â he murmured. âIâll head for the shelter. Good luck out there!â
It looked like humanityâs defenders would not need luck, however. It had been only a couple minutes since the Otherfall began, but already the scattered Psych-OSF soldiers had rallied to Suohâs defense. The rank-and-file soldiers, whose duties ended at long-range bombardment and point defense, pulled back so that the Scarlet Guardians could take center stage. They moved and fought in groups, supporting one another with effective teamwork and use of SAS. No matter where Goldlewis looked, the situation was the same; it seemed like the quick response of PSYCH-OSF had the situation well in hand. Most amazing of all to Goldlewis, the soldiers accomplished all this in remarkable silence, only calling out or making effort noises in the heat of the moment. Practically any combat operation on any battlefield that came to mind involved a frenzied back-and-forth of constant and often conflicting communication. âHowâre they so doggone coordinated without any chatter?â he wondered aloud.
âHm? Oh, thatâd be thanks to Brain Talk,â Kagero told him, his easygoing manner restored now that the fighting had stopped. âItâs so second-nature to us, I forget people donât know about it sometimes. We can speak directly into the heads of our squadmates over a good distance.â He glanced at Tsugumi, as if listening, then raised an eyebrow. âOooor, if we donât feel like talking in front of strangers~â
The girl panicked. âH-hey! W-why would youâŚ?â
Kagero winced, his hands held up. âSorry, Tsugumi, I couldnât help teasing you. You know itâs bad manners, though!â
âRight. SorryâŚâ Closing her eyes, Tsugumi bowed her head slightly at Goldlewis and Peach.
âOh, donât worry about it, sweetie!â Peach smiled, trying to be friendly. âThereâs a first time for everyone, right?â
As Kagero burst out in a fit of chuckles, Tsugumi turned her furrowed brows on the princess. âIâm older than you, you knowâŚâ
As Peach stood flabbergasted by that, Kagero got a handle on himself. âWhew, Iâm sorry, that kinda thing just gets me every time. You must be new in town, âcause the first thing anyone learns about the OSF is that nobody looks their age.â He brushed back his hair with his hand, then crossed his arms. âThe psychic hormone dries up with age, right? So they got us on growth suppression to keep us fighting fit. Of course, Iâm an adult since Iâm a late bloomer, but Iâd bet youâd be surprised by how old some of us really are.â The corner of his mouth turned up in a mischievous smile as he gave Tsugumi the side-eye. âAw, relax, Tsugumi, I swore Iâd never tell~â
Goldlewis cleared his throat. âAhem! Pullinâ us back to one just happened for a minute. Iâve been fightinâ longerân most folks been alive, but thatâs the first time I got up-close and personal with an Other. That electrifyinâ combo hurt somethinâ fierce.â His electrical burns still smoldered painfully as a reminder of the Othersâ killer coordination. âDo they show up often âround here?â
âNot that often,â Kagero confessed, shrugging offhandedly. âItâs like the weather, no real rhyme or reason to it or anything. Itâs just about the worst place they could land in fact, for them at least. Between HQ just up the street there and all the off-duty soldiers who live here, theyâre basically throwing themselves into the lionâs den.â By this time Tsugumi had made her way over to him, more or less hiding behind him, but Kagero stepped to the side to give her a pat on the head. âWe were just out on a stroll, in fact. Going to visit Aquarius to see some new flowers, right Tsugumi?â
The girl looked up at him, her brow still furrowed in that funny way. â...The scarlet dendrobiums, yes. Brought all the way from Wetland Aspect, where they supposedly sprang from the blood of fallen warriorsâŚI can hardly wait to see them!â When it came to talking about plants, her painfully soft voice took on new vigor.
âHmm.â Goldlewis realized that he probably wouldnât be able to relate to these psionic warriors, desensitized as they were to a reality with Others in it. If he wanted a heaping platter of exposition, he would need to bark up a different tree. âIâll let yâall get on with it, then,â he told the pair after a moment. âThanks again for all your help.â
Kagero smiled cheerfully. âThink nothing of it! Like I said, an honor.â He stopped suddenly, looking up at a building across the street, and so did Tsugumi. âLooks like TVâs back online,â he announced for the sake of the duds. âGoodness, and sensationalizing Psych-OSF fighting for their lives against the Others for cheap spectacle, too? Iâm utterly shocked.â The man neither sounded nor looked particularly shocked, however. âOhh, youâre missing this. Even the Septentrions got in on the fun. Weâve got a flashy little highlight reel of Major General Karen Travers playing right now.â
While Goldlewis could only rely on Kageroâs description, Raz and other sensitives in the area could watch and experience the broadcast themselves firsthand. It showed a replay of a street on the other side of the Otherlobe, where the activation of a transport power created a cube-shaped field of orange light. From it stepped a handful of unknown figures all decked out in black, red, and gray. Two were a burly boxer, and a blonde woman with a staff over her shoulder who seemed to match. Then there was lady with enormous hair in a gigantic, fluffy, pink-hued ponytail, as well as long lashes on her closed eyes, who floated in the air, curled up as if asleep with her own hair as a pillow. Along with her came an elegant woman with big curls of indigo hair, yellow sclera, folded white cat ears, and two fluffy curled cat tails beneath the cosmic cloak behind her. There were others further back, but it was the two that stood in front who got most of the attention: a beautiful man with flowing light blue hair, capelet, and tie, and then a hard-faced commander with gray locks, pointed silver boots, a silver mask with only one eye visible, and a long trench coat with a white fur trim. Once they walked out of the light with dramatic slowness, the Scarlet Guardians seemed to pose together, with the frontrunner crossing his arms as he glared out at a street littered by Others. âSeptentrion Karen Travers and Fubuki Spring!â the newscaster hailed. â
âKaren Regiment, Fubuki Regiment, Plan A. Move out!â Karen growled, and the Scarlet Guardians got to work.
After directing nearby civilians to make a run for the shelter, the Septentions join in as well. Fubuki fought with powerful cryokinesis and a royal blue greatsword, his movements as fluid as a dance, while Karen moved with superspeed and teleportation to unleash blasts of lightning, water, wind, and flame. Buddy Rummies, Vase Paws, and other monsters fell like chaff before them. âThe Other was defeated with one blow!â the announcer declared. âSeptentrion First Class âBrain Eaterâ Major General Karen Travers is amazing!â The TV quickly cut between several high-action clips throughout the course of the Other massacre.
âYâknow, despite his gruff exterior, I bet Karen likes showing off as much as anyone,â Kagero smirked. âWhy else would he keep switching powers?â
Tsugumi narrowed her eyes. âThat nicknameâŚconsidering what the Others do, it always seems so insensitiveâŚâ
As Goldlewis listened to them, an orange square like the one on TV blossomed into being not far away, grabbing the veteranâs attention. Having no idea what it signified, he bristled at the possible appearance of a new enemy, but instead the only thing that the transport field brought was a girl with a rabbit-eared headset. She looked annoyed, with her hands on her hips, and when she spoke her voice had the flatness of a thirty-year-old retail worker. âSo it was you making all that trouble.â
Not a moment later, a swarm of black quadrotor drones equipped with cameras descended on the area. Kagero quietly disappeared, and thanks to SAS Tsugumi vanished without a trace as well. That left just the Seekers of Light stuck in a half-dozen impromptu spotlights. âThese people have eradicated the Others!â a commentator announced through one of the drones. âIn fact, you saved Ryujin Ward in that amazing victory over the Others! A stunning show of power and spirit by Goldlewis Dickinson, the Secretary of Absolute Defense, and some interesting new friends!â
For the second time Goldlewis groaned under the limelight of the paparazzi. âWhat is this, some kinda victory interview?â
âIt is!â the drone replied. âHow do you feel? What motivated you to take action on behalf of Suohâs citizens, despite the potential entanglements? Could it be that you donât believe Psych-OSF is doing its job? Can you comment on the state of Suohâs affairs? Whoâre your new associates? Have you chosen a new affiliation for the upcoming-?â
âAll righty, all righty, thatâs enough filming for the day!â In a pink flash, the girl from before used Hypervelocity to blitz through the crowd, gathering the attention of all the drones at once.
The drones did not object to the change of focus. âOh, if it isnât Arashi Spring! Just who are these people?â
Goldlewis took a step back, not sure what to make of all this. He turned toward the other Seekers, but instead found himself suddenly alone. âHuh? Where in tarnationâd everyone go?â He then felt a small but forceful tug on his arm. The veteran looked down to see a small boy with a green bowl cut. Then both teleported together.
They warped into an alley a block away. Goldlewis started, taken completely by surprise, but he saw Raz, Roxas, Peach, Pit, and Bede already here. So was the unknown boy. âWe should be able to talk here,â he remarked, his voice gentle.
âWhat in sam hill is goinâ on?â Goldlewis questioned him.
The boy did not flinch despite being a fraction of the giantâs size. âIâm Luka Travers,â he stated. âI thought Iâd get you away from the press so that you could breathe easy. This must all seem very sudden and unusual to outsiders, but I hope I can ask for your patience and understanding as you come to grips with the situation.â
âIâŚah, well.â Goldlewis composed himself with the help of his comb, fixing both his hair and mental state. He remembered what Kagero said about appearances being non-indicative of age among Psych-OSF soldiers, which explained this young manâs own composure. âI reckon I oughta thank you then. Those reporters seem mighty hungry for a story.â
Luka nodded. âIndeed. Your presence alone tends to raise questions, Mr. Dickinson. There are many whoâd be curious to know what youâre doing in Suoh, Iâm sure. But for my part, I am only grateful that you and your friends went out of your way to help people. So, thank you as well.â
âItâs what heroes do,â Peach piped up, remembering the mission statement to spread and make great the Seekersâ name. Something else occurred to her, though. âLuka Travers, you said? Does that mean youâre related to one of the famous Septentions?â
Luka smiled, his face slightly bashful. âItâs embarrassing when you put it that way, but yes. Karen is my older brother.â He then returned to a neutral expression. âDespite my gratitude, it is still my duty to inform you that civilians are not allowed to fight Others.â
âOh. ErâŚâ Peach got her gears turning, trying to think of a way to save face. Her teamâs efforts to curtail the Ever Crisis could hardly come to an end here, after all.â
Goldlewis crossed his arms. âIsnât Psych-OSF responsible for allowing Others to enter the local airspace and putting civilians in danger?â
âHuh? Mr. Goldlewis!â Eyes wide, Peach held up her hands. Was he trying to sabotage the Seekersâ relations!?
Luka, however, seemed deadly serious. âThose are harsh words, Mr. Dickinson, but youâre right.â He gave a quick, light sigh, but offered no further comment on the matter. âIâm sure you have something to say on the matter, but this is neither the right time nor the right place, and I am not the right person.â
With a noncommittal grunt, Goldlewis turned his attention from the alley to a gurney being pushed by OSF paramedics through the street. To the sensitives present, the body lying on it would have a psionic censor overlaying his head, hiding it from view. Luka quickly interjected. âOh, you shouldnât look there. Thereâs no censor for duds. That soldier is very badly wounded from the battle. An Other tried to eat his brain. Two of the OSF troopers on guard duty with him were killed.â Unable to see what became of the catatonic guardsmanâs face, he watched the gurney roll toward a nearby ambulance. âLooking at eaten bodies can have negative lasting effects on your mental health.â Luka turned his gaze to the sky. âI wonât ask what your intentions are here, but please just go on with your day, and try to keep away from the press. Alright? If you run into any more Other trouble, please feel free to contact me via Psynet. My serial number is KTN545301. Be careful out there.â In another blue flash, Luka disappeared.
A moment later, Peach got a call on her walky-talky. It was from Sakura, reporting that she, Midna, and Karin made it through, though not without their own difficulties. The princess held down the transmission button. âHello? This is Peach. Reading you loud and clear, I think. Goldlewis and I fought some Others. Got a little help from local soldiers too, and learned a little about them. We might have an âinâ with a Septentrion. The Septentrion, maybe. As for whereâŚâ She jogged out into the street, looking for landmarks. âWeâre by a place called Anistar Gym. Itâs got a big purple roof. I can still see the Otherlobe, so weâre probably pretty close to Main Street still.â She turned to rejoin the others and discuss what to do, then remembered Sakuraâs radio protocol. âUh, over.â
Goldlewis beat her to the punch. âWell, we got our fill of Others, I expect. Now we got a couple hours to kill before we oughta head back.â He looked between the gathered Seekers, which aside from Peach were all teenage boys. Not a lot of authority or leadership among them, but psychic matters were Razâs specialty, so maybe he had something to say. It looked like there wasnât a camera cluster right here, so Goldlewis went ahead and continued. âDonât suppose any oâ yâall turned up some leads? I got the feelinâ that the brother of a Septentrionâs someone important, and if everythinâs monitored we donât wanna give ourselves away so soon, so Iâd rather not ring up liâl Luka âcept as a last resort.â
Bede hardly needed the invitation to talk. âIâm pretty sure that this building weâre next to is from my world. Anistar is a famous city in a region near mine. So I donât know about you all, but Iâm going there. Do what you want.â He proceeded to set the example by walking out of the alley and into the neighboring gym. Goldlewis watched him go, then gave a resigned shrug and turned toward the others. He shared what little he learned about -and from- Kagero and Tsugumi, but it would be up to Raz to tell the others what he saw in the psychic broadcast.
As the machines stood together at the back of the bus, slowly actuating to keep balance as the vehicle rocked beneath them, Poppi did not take long to mull over Blazermateâs question. She found its premise fundamentally flawed. âI guess it must be pretty different. Iâm an artificial Blade, not an android,â she pointed out. âThey donât exist in the world weâre from, so Iâve never encountered hate of any kind. Is there really such a thing?â For the life of her, Poppi couldnât offer any guess as to why.
As a few moments passed in silence, however, she began to connect the dots. She thought about the people protesting androids back at the plaza, full of vitriol and resentment. Hating the Machines that waged their interminable war against this city and its people she would totally understand, but she took it to mean that they objected to the robots inside Midgar itself, which were made, bought, and sold for the sole purpose of serving the needs of the citizenry. Were they dangerous or unreliable in some way? If forced to hazard a guess, she wouldâve thought that such contraptions would be popular if not outright beloved, since if they were anything like Poppi, they possessed incredible utility at only a fraction of the resource demand, which in turn offered countless benefits from convenience to labor. Robots could do all sorts of dangerous or undesirable jobs that humans couldnât or wouldnât want to, but of course they could do most things humans could, and without having to be paid.
Hmm. Maybe that was it. Perhaps androids were simply too good at doing the jobs of people, and that employers preferred using them over hiring actual human beings. If machines here lacked free will, that only incentivized the possible beneficiaries further. That could very well cut off ways for people to earn a living, leaving them angry. So then, it was a form of envy? How strange, Poppi thought. Sheâd spent her whole existence envious of humans, especially drivers and their blades. While happy with her lot, she knew as well as her Masterpon that they were just what she told Blazermate a moment ago: artificial. He wasnât a real driver, since she wasnât a real blade. If only they could have what others have, she often thought. And now sheâd stumbled upon a part of the world where people lived in envy of machinesâof artificial beings created to make lives easier, but in the end made things harder, too. âHowâŚâ Poppi murmured. âStrange.â
At several points during the somewhat circuitous trip back to the train station the bus stopped to exchange passengers with the outside world. People quietly got up or seated themselves, while robots marched to or fro along the vehicleâs length. Whenever a particularly bulking machine needed to embark or disembark, the driver -himself an android- pulled a second lever to open the rear door, which also provided wheelchair access. It took a while when that happened, so Tora had plenty of time to watch the city through the bus window. The further he traveled, the more he came to think that this place called Detroit was just sort of sad. It put on the mask of a technological metropolis like some of the plates up above, but to anyone who didnât turn a blind eye, the cracks in the facade were plain to see. It was dirty, dense, cramped, and alternatively murky or so dazzling with its bright displays that headaches came quite easily. Danger lurked around every other corner, and people were suffering. With no alternatives, the jobless and destitute could only turn to crime or to DespoRHado, where by enlisting they could pit their lives -and perhaps their very humanity- on the line to make ends meet. It was a far cry from what Tora imagined.
The bus came to a stop again, hissing as the pneumatic doors opened. A lone figure climbed aboard, and when he spotted the stranger Tora shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This strange man wore a dark trench coat over his suit and tie, but his resemblance to the G-men went no further than that. Instead of a hat he sported a helmet of warped metal, so tight that it loomed more like head than headgear, and like the armor on his left arm a serum-filled canister protruded from it. As Tora looked on, the stranger strode slowly down the aisle, his hands behind his beck. The Nopon wished nothing more than for the man to keep on walking, but of course he stopped. He looked down at Tora, and though the young engineer could see no eyes, he could feel the weight of the strangerâs gaze. That tense moment felt like an hour; what did this person want? Was he an enemy? Had a hireling of the Consuls found them out again? But a couple seconds later, the stranger chuckled. âAw,â he groaned, his voice gravelly, strained, and slightly resonant. He brought out his left hand, a massive and deadly-looking set of metal talons, and ever-so-gently patted Tora on the head. âArenât you just the cutest thing?â Then the Claw moved on, sitting a couple rows back. Tora swallowed and let out his breath. Poppi quietly put her Variable Saber away.
A little later, they reached their destination. By that time the Claw had already left; Tora hadnât looked at him when he went, and scarcely dared to breathe. The four got off and settled down on the steps leading up to the train station to wait, since it looked like they beat Giovanna and the other team here. Tora and Poppi chatted, mostly just reminiscing about Alrest while they stared out longingly over Quarantine Valley. Just shy of ten minutes later, the other team arrived in dramatic fashion, zipping around the sky-lines that Giovanna pointed out when they first arrived. The secret agent, the witcher, the strategist, and the cyborg were all in one piece, although Raiden looked a littleâŚwell, lamer. Tora frowned at him disapprovingly, but Poppi nudged her Masterpon before he could speak his mind.
After distributing the sky-hooks the Seekersâ options opened up, so Giovanna considered what their next move should be. âKay then, the Hermits. Weâd find them for sure if we rooted around in Quarantine Valley, but we canât afford to bumble around a corrupted zone. Any corruption you get, no matter how small, is permanent. And if you pass the thresholdâŚâ Giovanna trailed off, letting the threat hang. Compared to the results of redshift, radiation almost looked preferable. âHate to add more to our shopping cart, but if weâre headed down there, weâre gonna need instruments that can track corruption levels. No telling where weâd find something like that though, so letâs just keep an eye out.â She crossed her legs as she leaned against the railing. âSo, where do we go? If we keep hunting down gangs, weâll probably bite off way more than we can chew before we find the right one. I guess Iâm up for it if you guys are, but thatâs asking for one hell of a lucky streak. If only we had some kind of guide.â
At this point Tora wished he could speak up with just the ticket thanks to some pertinent tidbit heâd picked up during his own travels, but right now the Nopon could only offer more questions instead of answers. Being unhelpful had never stopped him before, however. âWe find out thing of interest during dig in scrapyard. Manufacturer design androids so that spirit housed in self-contained chip deep inside machine. As long as black box intact, androids not turn to ash, even if body inoperable in shambles. Tora want visit Cyberlife headquarters.â
âCyberlife?â Giovanna squinted. âYou mean, in the City of Glass? Not only is that crazy far away from here, but getting in would be just about impossible. The private security they have over there is nuts, Iâm sure theyâd see through your IDs in a heartbeat.â Tora shrugged as if to say heâd already done many things others might deem impossible, but for now he rested his case. Giovanna looked at the rest. âI guess we could always ride the sky-lines until we see something interesting.â
The nearest apartment complex brought them back up to the sky-line, allowing the team to hitch a ride away from the gawking eyes of the public, as well as any G-men that might be prowling among them. In just a few minutes Giovanna and her crew were hurtling along the sky-lines once more, joined this time by Poppi (carrying Tora), Blazermate, and Susie as well. Together they made for quite the procession, but beyond a quick glance upward most of the populace seemed pretty desensitized. Only about a minute passed before the convoy passed over the scene of what might have been a large-scale street fight, but it looked like some sort of gas had been let loose, and dark figures darted around through the smoke and shadows. Some of them looked G-man-shaped, too, so Giovanna kept right on going. A really curly, loopy bit ensued where everyone needed to tuck their limbs in and hang on for dear life while going around all the tight corners, so nothing much could be gleaned from that area. Further still and the Seekers were beginning to approach a block of factories on Detroitâs left side, closer to where it bordered the sprawl of slums, shanty towns, and junkyards that composed the undercity of Sector 7. This industrial zone seemed to embrace the sky-lines more than the commercial or residential ones, maybe for the sake of its blue-collar workers, so Giovanna made the most of the wealth of choices to lead the team on an upward rail headed higher into the air.
It dropped them off on a lofty factory roof that overlooked the surrounding area to a decent extent, as well as providing sky-lines downward. Around this facility lay an airplane factory, a chemical plant, and a construction yard, all pretty busy considering the time of day except for the construction site, . Weary workers were gearing up to make the final push through the last couple of hours before heading home for the day. Of course, the androids among them needed no such second wind, instead keeping their noses to the grindstones while their human coworkers refreshed with a smuggled beer or two. They realized that they werenât alone up here, with a couple hoodlums huddled over in a corner with a six-pack of beer, but they kept to themselves so the team took a moment to catch their own breath. Benedict needed it in particular; back at the brewery heâd been obliged to go the long way around the compound, leaving the older man rather winded. Not everyone could boast Geraltâs stamina, after all.
Most everyone kept an eye out, but Poppi dedicated herself to lookout duty wholeheartedly. She flew up to the highest vantage point available and trained her optics to scan the industrial zone below, searching for anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes, her impromptu stakeout bore fruit. âI see something!â she said suddenly. âDown by where theyâre building. Thereâs a group of shady figures in weird clothes, carrying stuff.â When Tora waddled over to the edge of the rooftop to look, he could see them too. Whether stick wielders, roller bladers, gunslingers, or shotgunners, they clearly didnât fit in, and as they stormed the place the few human workers quietly turned tail and fled. The androids they left behind got mercilessly slaughtered by the newcomers, their blue blood spilled all over the construction site. Then the Misconducts got busy planting sticks of dynamite under the direction of one huge, armored hockey player, TNT Randy.
âWow, they really are everywhere,â Giovanna remarked, nonplussed. âThereâs a lot of them, and itâs a wide open area.â She scratched under Reiâs chin. âGuess weâve got our work cut out for us.â She attached her hook to a sky-line and began her high-speed descent. Tora and Poppi were only a second behind.
Though the Seekersâ campaign through the shadowy, sepulchral fathoms of the Necropolis turned out to be a painstaking slog through all manner of monstrosities, each more troublesome than the last, when all was said and done the team stood reunited in the ghostly green light of Tartarus with everyone intact. Some could even boast of brand-new powers or weapons that didnât seem to align with the vile dungeonâs typical, rather mutative rewards, probably a consequence of the new, markedly different rooms that the heroes overcame on the way. Those strange and out-of-place chambers suggested that the deeper this place went, the more variable it became, incorporating little segments from all sorts of worlds each with their own foes and logic. It was hard to imagine things getting less complicated from here on in.
Nadia certainly wasnât complaining, though; after Therion elected not to âsteakâ a claim on the Bait Launcher, she seemed to be on cloud nine. With some solid loot in hand at last, she didnât even look twice at the rotten tomato in the item room that Sectonia uncovered. On the way to catch up with the others, the two thieves met up with the Knights, on its way back from a branching path to the east from an smoky-smelling brick room with bridges over shallow water. Nadia jogged over to take a peek down that route and found two rooms with little more than rocks, skulls, and ash. Yet again the little bug, clad in its fresh new PJs, had proved itself to be a fighter that nobody should underestimate. It went ahead and crushed all the spirits it found too, silently stockpiling all the money, health, and keys while leaving things like spider parts and bone shards behind. At the furthest extent of that path, the Feral spotted a shop, which the Knight evidently opened using a key of its own. Inside, a petrified keeper hung by the neck over its morbid selection of wares, including a bundle of rotten tissue for ten coins, a pill, and an empty spot where something that the Knight evidently purchased once lay. Neither of the leftovers even remotely tickled Nadiaâs fancy, so she hurried on her way.
At the ominous boss door, during the teamâs deliberation on which subgroup would tackle the boss of this floor, Jesse posed an idea. Even if everyone was okay for the most part, this place had already taken a toll in terms of stamina and mental health, so rather than send in just a couple intrepid souls to challenge what would probably be the toughest opponent yet, why not have everyone go in at once? To this end she used her handy-dandy Tool Gun to no-collide the boss door, making it effectively intangible. No matter who went inside first, everyone else could follow at their convenience. âHell yeah!â Nadia agreed as she did some quick stretches. âThis is probably the last one, right? Rule of three and all that? So letâs just beat the snot out of it and blow this joint!â
Once everyone loosened and psyched themselves up, it was go time. In the spirit of not breaking tradition, Nadia plunged through the breach, leading the way for the rest of the Seekers to follow. And though she plastered a brave smile on her face as she came to a stop a few yards beyond the doorway, putting up her dukes against whatever new horrors loomed before her, she could not deny the chill that ran down her spine, nor the hairs on the back of her neck that stood on end. Something felt wrongâinstinctively, gutturally, very, very wrong.
At first glance it simply appeared to be a huge, circular chamber, with a vaulted ceiling shrouded by cobwebs and darkness. It lay in a state of pitiable ruin, and everywhere Nadia looked she could see massive cracks. But that damnable sound was what made every fiber of her being scream in protest. It was squishy, sloshy, wet, incredibly deep, and everywhere. Her wide-eyed search of the room quickly made apparent that the floor, ceiling, and very walls of this place were all subtly, slightly moving. Pulsations here and there caused small upheavals in the stone that settled back down a moment later. It was as if this chamberâs masonry were but a facade, built crudely and in vain to imprison something. Something alive. It left Nadia wound up tight from the tension, and before could figure out more, a sudden bellow reverberated through the room, scaring her so badly that she launched backward like a spring.
âISAAC!â
As if in reply, the room rumbled, and parts of the floor began to erupt. The ghostly chandeliers quickly fell and smashed into the ground. Slabs of distended flesh welled up from the cracks, some shaped like hands, others with giant eyeballs, and others just bulbous mounds. As Nadia watched, horrified, the hands opened up, the eyes hatched like eggs, and the blubber tore apart to reveal four new enemies. They seemed to be cultists of some sort, long since overtaken by malignant meat, their bodies stretched and distorted in hideous ways. Most foes spawned in this way would just be cultists, but throughout the fight Brawlers, Casters, Priests, and worst of all a single Impaler would bubble up to meet them. After the first wave spawned, a section of the ceiling broke apart, and from the unseen flesh a gigantic leg descended, its many tons of flabby, pendulous cellulite behind a gargantuan red high heel shoe to stomp the ground in front of the door with staggering force. The hideous, distorted voice of a woman rippled through the room. âMuhuhahaha!â
Go time at last! With the Hive Knight and his inspirational bravado leading the way, Bowser ordered the charge, and his cohort were happy to join in the fray with whatever weapons and magic they could bring to bear. Silitha shrieked out her defiance and stomped forward to meet her challengers head-on, but Bowser pummeled her with cannon fire, going for her wounded head. His barrage broke the Brood Motherâs focus and forced her to raise her forelegs for protection, but her makeshift guard in front didnât prepare her for a giant, sorcerous left hook from the side. She gasped as she reeled to the side, her remaining eyes bulging out as the impact drove a loathsome wad of spit at teeth flew from her ghastly jaws.
Rallying herself as best she could, Silitha prepared to lash out at her incoming attackers, but two of them reached her first. Barnabee warped above her with another surprise slash to the back of her neck, her own back being the one place she none of her myriad limbs could reach. âEn guard!â he cried as his chainsaw blade struck true, shearing through the carapace. The Hive Knight then brought his sword around into a reverse grip, plunged it into the wound, and with spirit abuzz he ran forward. âHuzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz-!â he cried, driving the embedded chainsaw along until he carved out through the top of Silithaâs head in a spray of brownish gunk. â-Zah!â
At the same time, Ravaging Confession brought Primrose behind the giant spider, out of sight and perfectly poised for some serious retribution. She still might not be back at one hundred percent after the wounds she suffered, even with some healing under her belt, but hurt or not Primrose now possessed both the raw strength and the rawer fury to make this overgrown pest pay. The darkness danced along with her as she struck again and again, until she brought down an enormous cross-shaped spear of molten pitch. Her punishment reduced one of Silithaâs legs to mucousy chunks of chitin, and as the arachnid screamed the Dark Lance continued to pulse, only for Rubickâs venom to scald her wounded face with exquisite pain.
Where Bowserâs bombardment ended, however, Juniorâs beatdown began. With his clown carâs boxing gloves he made sure to treat Silithaâs head just as thoroughly as she treated his dad beforehand, and when he finished with an overhead slam, the koopa prince bowed her head just in time for Bowser to ram his giant fist straight into her ugly mug. Already cracked, cut, and softened up by the Seekersâ blows, Silithaâs head caved in, splatted like a big, juice bug on a windshield. Her body reeled back, staggered for a couple uneasy steps, and finally rolled onto its back with its legs in the air to melt away. In the color-devoid wood the spirit she left behind lacked its usual rainbow lust, but it shone brightly with power nonetheless. Along with it fell one other, less expected reward: a one-third mask fragment of spotless white.
Her death marked a sudden and drastic shift in the local populace. The hordes of small spiders fled en masse, and the Deephunters too aggressive to follow suit quickly dropped to the forest floor, punctuated by the stingers of angry bees. When the Hive Knight strolled over to join the grip, he looked about as proud as a four-foot insect could bee. âWell met, brave warriors! Few have braved this fell place and lived to tell the tale, yet youâll be able to spin a fine yarn indeed!â He opened his mouth to continue speaking, only for his cheeks to bulge and his eyes to widen. âBluh! Bleh!â He spat out two hivelings that floated up above the heroesâ heads, ready to serve as a fuzzy aerial vanguard. â...Begging your pardon. While that was a splendid victory, let us quit this place in haste, I beseech you. Even with the wretched Brood Mother dead, there will ever be weavers in the Webwood. Come, come!â He took off with a long, floating stride, covering a few dozen feet before he even stopped to turn. âThis way! Past yonder habitation lies a tunnel of petrified wood, and therein lies the Hollow Bough, where I have made camp. And if youâll allow me, I shall regale you with mine own tale on the way!â
With the eight-legged multitudes not scared off for long, the Seekers could either head back toward the Ruins, or proceed with the Hive Knight. If they chose to retrace their steps in search of their allies, Barnabee had no choice but to turn and follow along; it was clear that the group had something he wanted. Either way, it didnât take long for him to do exactly as promised.
âOnce again, I am Barnabee, the Hive Knight. That title, I assure you, is a matter of some renown, for it marks me as nothing less than the most devoted and capable guardian of Her Majesty, the Good Queen Vespa!â Having slung his blade over his back, Barnabee clasped his little hands together in a gesture of devotion, his eyes momentarily closed, at which point he almost tripped on a root. âGah, foul impediment! âŚNo matter. As I was saying, uhâŚsayingâŚQueen Vespa! Yes, our truest and most rightful ruler, and yet for us loyalists tis a most bitter season, for the Queen has been usurped! Our ancestral homeland the Hive, invaded, plundered, and squatted in byâŚwasps! Egads, how I hate wasps! I could wring their spindly yellow necks, them and their blasted Queen! âŚAnd yet, I am most ashamed. For my rebellion ended in pitiable exile, leaving the vaunted Hive Knight a mere vagrant, traipsing the Under âtil the day I find a noble lord who would restore our honorable house.â
Sadness overtook him as the Seekers neared their destination, although their departure from the Webwood meant that they were getting their color back. Barnabee turned out much as expected, with yellow and black stripes, a fuzzy brown head, and pitch-black eyes. âI have little to offer at present,â he ventured after a few moments. âBut the Hive is a queendom rich beyond measure, where sweetest gold flows like water, but rather more slowly.â He pantomimed viscous honey slowly oozed from a container, then shook his fuzzy head and threw the imaginary flask away. âI have seen that you boast commendable strength! If you could somehow find it within your noble selves to embark upon this quest with me, I can assure your due compensation! We need only make our way to the Underâs distant eastern edge, though Hollow Bough, and then Ash LakeâŚbut that can wait. Please, take all the time you need to consider my humble request!â He clasped his hands together again, bee-seeching the Seekers for aid.
As the group -for the most part- lined up at the counter, Wicke treated Red and Aceâs mention of detractors with an innocently concerned expression. âOh my, I certainly donât know what the critics are talking about, either. And if I did, I wouldnât be at liberty to tell, teehee. Company policy, you know.â She glanced at the menu of sweets and treats on offer, then turned her attention back to her questioners. âAs for what we do, well, weâre a conservation group. To love and protect all Pokemon is our mission statement! We take in those without homes, or those neglected by their owners, and we also look after those who take ill until theyâre aaaall better again.â
An almost misty sadness clouded her eyes. âYou know, despite how incredible Pokemon are, people can be astonishingly heartless with them! Those who they think are ugly, ones that misbehave, who donât meet their standards for battleâŚthere are breeders out there whoâll make their pokemon give birth to litter after litter, all in search of just one with certain desirable traits. Then theyâll release the rest, or worse yet, leave them to rot in a Pokecenter box! Can you imagine that? Treated like trash, simply for the crime of being born with the wrong nature!â Wicke stopped herself, then took a deep breath, fanning herself with her hand. âForgive me, I can get a little emotional. My blood sugar must be running low, but luckily, I know just how to fix that!â
Soon, the small group sat at a comfortable couple of tables in the back of the shop, tucked as far away from any magic as they could get. Band seated himself in a sturdy chair at the end of the booth, where he resided in taciturn silence. Wicke had bought a whole plate of handmade brownies for Sierraâs recruits, although she seemed happy to indulge herself as well. âAhh,â she sang, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek in one hand. âMagic is a wonderful thing, but thereâs nothing quite like a treat made with the human touch!â
After dabbing at her face with a napkin, she clasped her hands and put on a smile so warm it could melt chocolate. âIf youâre interested in the Aether Foundation, Iâd be only too happy to tell you more! What about our state-of-the-art, climate-controlled habitats, for instance? You could step out of Edinburghâs freezing cold and straight into the sweltering humidity of a tropical rainforest! All the beautiful pink trees and flowers, painstakingly procured from the Luma Pools! Visit it yourself, and it wonât be long before you see why itâs called Aether Paradise! Our Pokemon have the highest-quality feed we can manage, all grown one hundred percent on-site! No cheap corn fillers here, our Tauros and Miltanks are all one hundred percent grass-fed! Our pokemon live in luxury most humans couldnât even dream of. We have enrichment programs to keep our smart and fun-loving Pokemon engaged, you wouldnât imagine all the clever toys and gadgets the sweethearts down in R&D think up! We recruit the best trainers from around the world to help our Pokemon live up to their full potential! And what do we get out of all this, other than the chance to research and study Pokemon in their natural habitat? Why, nothing! Nothing but the satisfaction that weâre doing the right thing, and making the world a better place!â Now that the bubbly woman had gotten started, she could scarcely stop, even to write the Seekers their checks. âOf course, weâd be unable to do all this without our generous donors! The fact that so many people want to give back to the world and its wonderful creatures, month after month, itâs such a beautiful thing. It hurts every time a new tragedy ends up on our doorstep, but seeing a broken Pokemon made whole again, able to laugh and play, it makes all our hard work worth it!â
Trusting that the musclebound mountain of a man could follow through on his part of the plan, Peach took off running. The sudden motion by a less formidable-looking target got the Othersâ attention, but Goldlewis Dickinson did not intend to let them go after her. His coffin dropped to the sidewalk with a very loud slam, and its door slid open. An ephemeral blue light shown from within as starlit hands hoisted a massive Skyfish minigun weighing hundreds of pounds into the veteranâs waiting hands. With his cryptid companion pointing targets out like a spotter, Goldlewis bottomed out his Security Level to deliver a torrential fusillade of bullets into the crowd of Bile Pools and Plateau Pendus. âCOME AND GET MEEEE!â he roared over the cacophony, and the Others obliged.
The fliers moved with dangerous speed, spreading out toward the sides of their target, while their gelatinous counterparts fixed their glowing lights on him. Goldlewis expected them to mob him, but things took a nasty surprise as the Bile Pools remained at a comfortable distance, content to sit there in a line and spew water from afar. As the alien disposed of the spent minigun Goldlewis brought the coffin up for defense with gritted teeth, but the triple dosage of Pool water did more than chip damage. It rinsed through his guard and left his clothes soaked. Neither did the Pendus come at him to strike with those dangling arms like raptorsâ talons; instead their bodies danced with arcs of bright yellow electricity. After a moment it coalesced in their green gloves and they both hurled bolts of lightning his way. Elemental projectiles rained down on his position, and though far too experienced to lose his head, the veteran quickly began to realize just what heâd volunteered for. âThis wasnât a brawl, it was a shootout!
With a frustrated grunt Goldewis took cover behind his hummer. He hated to use his beloved ride as a shield, but what happened when water and high voltage mixed, he needed to be pragmatic about this situation. His steadfast Patriot Mammoth took the first round of elements just fine, but the Pendus quickly buzzed around to either side to both flank and surround him. One threw more bolts his way, which he narrowly avoided, but the other electrified itself before flying in a shuttle loop to divebomb him. âHmph!â Determined to not fall prey to this simple strategy, Goldlewis jumped onto the hood of his hummer. As the crackling Pendu whooshed behind him, he ran across the top of the vehicle and jumped again. Now with a clear shot, the Bile Pools sprayed water one after another, but Goldlewis didnât intend to plop down right in front of their firing squad. Instead he pushed off a magical glyph mid-air, airdashing the remainder of the distance across the strip mallâs parking lot to come down amidst the Pools with his coffin beneath him, a half-dozen arms extended like the vanes of a cosmic pinwheel. âTry this on!â The attack covered enough space to hit all three, whether clipping them with the arms or crushing them with the coffin itself, and on hit Goldlewis unleashed his Behemoth Typhoon. âRAAAGH!â Swung in a downward half-circle, it slammed into one Pool and kept going with the Other stuck to its front like a bug on a windshield. The Behemoth Typhoon smashed into the second, then the third, and as Goldlewis hit the ground he brought the coffin all the way around in a loop to flatten the three-Pool pileup between itself and the tarmac.
A zapping noise got his attention, and he turned in time to see more lighting incoming. He couldnât capitalize on his maneuver to batter the prostrate Pools into oblivion without eating a nasty shock. âDamn.â Goldlewis stepped off before he could get electrocuted, and the three sludgy pools slid in different directions to reconstitute. That gave him one moment, though, and his well-honed combat instincts made sure he wouldnât squander it. âThunderbird!â he called, and from his coffin the alien sent out a spiked drone to chase the offending Pendu down. Then he turned on the nearest Pool as it began to spray water and stopped it short with a heavy shoulder barge straight to center mass. That led straight into a massive backhand that span its head like a tetherball, and the next second an alien uppercut launched it skyward. Not even given the chance to expose its bulb from the ruthless beatdown, the Other exploded into red petals that soon turned to dust themselves.
Rather than savor his first takedown, Goldlewis charged toward the next Bile Pool. It spewed a blast of water into the tarmac in front of it, but the veteran stopped short to block while crouching. Then through the spray came a battering ram followed by an asphalt-cracking coffin crush, and from the floored Other popped a bulb. By that time, of course, its attacker had already committed to a walloping Behemoth Typhoon that wouldâve finished it off anyway. Unfortunately, Goldlewis then took a water blast to the face from the last Bile Pool that not only stung his eyes, but also both knocked off his glasses and mussed his hair. âBAH!â he bellowed as he swung blindly, but his Hail-Mary haymaker came up just short. In the background, he heard two loud reports in quick succession, the sound of gunfire. He wiped his face with his arm, but it was too late. A Plateau Pendu struck him head-on, dropping the huge bruiser to the ground in a state of painful paralysis. The Others closed in on his twitching body, and the Pendu reached down with its green gloves to almost gently take hold of his head.
Then something drove into the Penduâs back in a high-speed, light-blue streak, instantly shattering its composure. As it lolled limply in the air, a bulb protruding from its chest, a blonde stranger in a dark cape appeared. He took the Otherâs bulb in a headlock and slid a wickedly curved knife just beneath the fixture, severing the brain stem. He gave a cheeky two-finger salute at the fallen veteran, then vanished the moment before the last nearby Pool tried to blast him with water. Three knives immediately slammed into its body, and as it reeled the same man manifested above it and dropped with a plunging stab that pinned the Poolâs head to the ground. A bulb appeared from its struggling body, and its assailant finished it off with a stylish kick.
As the paralysis wore off, Goldlewis sat up. âIâm mighty thankful,â he said, slicking his hair back into its trademark pompadour before replacing his slightly-crooked glasses.
âAw, no need to thank me,â the stranger announced with a coy smile and joking tone. His eyes were two different colors, one yellow and one red, but the colors of his gear interested Goldlewis more. They marked this man as a member of Psych-OSF. âIn fact, itâs an honor to fight alongside the illustrious Secretary of....â
The conversation stopped with the sound of more gunshots. Back by his hummer, a dark-haired girl was trading shots with the last Pendu using a revolver. Goldlewis stood, exchanged a nod with his new ally, and wordlessly took off running. As he drew near, the Pendu dove at the girl, but somehow she managed to dodge at the last second with perfect timing. She dropped to a knee, taking aim with both hands, and fired a shot that blew the Otherâs doorknob-shaped head clean off. It staggered in a garbled slurry of sounds just long enough for Goldlewis to jump up, airdash in, and extend the many arms of his alien to snatch it out of the sky. Once his captive threw it to the ground, the veteran came down in a mighty slam to finish it off.
âTh-thank you,â the girl said, her soft voice barely higher than a whisper. She seemed to recoil from Goldlewis as he stood back up to his full size, and looked to the other man for help. âK-kagero?â
The easygoing fellow stepped up with a smile to put her on the shoulder for reassurance. âDonât worry, Tsugumi. Even if he looks big and scary, Mr. Dickinsonâs here to help. We can trust him to fight by our side!â
âRight,â the girl nodded, trying to meet Goldlewisâ gaze with sincerity. âS-sorryâŚâ
âScary?â Goldlewis blinked, his brows raised. â...Me?â
An explosion brought their attention to Peach. The princess had made it to the crashed car and engaged the Buddy Rummies over there in combat, but their durability and tenacity had taken her by surprise. Sheâd been knocked them down one at a time with scatterboom blasts to keep them from getting close to the unconscious man trapped inside his vehicle, not knowing that her strategy gave the Others time to recover their Crush. Now, with all four close enough to start smashing apart the car to get at the man inside, Peach resorted to her rocket launcher to topple all four at once. Farther down the road, Kasane and Naomiâs attempt to come help got stymied by the appearance of a a horse-sized ram of curved metal strips, vermillion leaves, and ghastly bone. With more Rummies in tow and its only weak point shielded by a hard steel dish cover on its back, the Wither Sabbat charged around with dangerous recklessness. Introductions could wait. The three humans ran in to help Peach wipe the Rummies out so she could get the civilian to safety, then on to the next battle.
New Power acquired: Tension A reserve of magical energy that builds within Goldlewis as he fights. He gains it mostly by attacking, but he can also build a little continuously as long as heâs running toward an enemy, and if he follows after an enemy heâs sent flying a long way he gains Positive Bonus that builds a bunch quickly. However, if backed into a corner for too long or forced to retreat, Negative Penalty will quickly deplete his Tension. Goldlewis can use Tension for Faultless Defense, which negates the chip damage of most attacks while pushing melee attackers back a little bit, or for a Roman Cancel, which allows him to near-instantly reset to a neutral position to act or attack again much faster than heâd usually be able to. He can also move slightly in any direction while canceling
Detroit
Sector 8 Lower Level 11 Tora (108/110) Level 11 Poppi (108/110) Susie and Blazermateâs @Archmage MC Word Count: 1826
As her Masterpon protested, full of excuses about all the incredible tech on inside the Android Zone, Poppi dragged him by the wing past the placeâs reinforced storefront window where a handful of glassy-eyed machines stared out from the pristine white store at the dirty street, their friendly smiles and welcoming gestures urging passing pedestrians to take them home. Atop the sidewalk stood a bus stop, well situated for what seemed to be a popular destination, and next to it stood a small shelter marked âTemporary Android Parkingâ, with a two-hour limit. Five identical models stood beneath its overhang as if crammed into a queue, indistinguishable from humans save for the LEDs on their heads. Poppi came to a stop behind it, well out of the sight lines of any humans or homunculi inside Android Zone, and there the team of four regrouped.
Once Blazermate caught up to the dynamic duo with Susie in tow, she opened with a teasing entreaty to Tora to keep her maintained. Not quite sure what the healer was playing at, Tora scratched his head with one wing. âMeh-meh? Of course Tora fix Blaze-Blaze up if needed. After almost full week of adventure, Blaze-Blaze and Bowser only ones left who there with Tora from very start. Plus, always heal Tora up when being tankypon. So Tora be sure to return favor, meh!â
As it turned out, Blazermate had something else on her mind. With more machines like her in evidence around here, she gave Tora a crash course on medabots and robattling so he could play the part of âMedafighterâ if need be. The Nopon accepted the device Blazermate handed him and mulled over the ominous things she said about Medal Ejectors and Mr. Referee. Those aside, the process sounded pretty simple if push came to shove, but hopefully they wouldnât need to try their luck. âTora get gist, meh,â he told her after she finished. âStill, best to not go looking for trouble and risk cracks in story. Should avoid medabot fight if possible. BesidesâŚâ He turned up his nose with his eyes closed, his little nub-hands on his hips. âThere only one artificial partner for Tora!â
Standing with her head resting diagonally in her palm, Poppi raised her eyebrows. âAnd yet, Masterponâs eyes tend to wanderâŚâ
âMeh-hem!â The engineer noisily cleared his throat. âActually, Tora been thinking about something else Blaze-Blaze say, back in scrap heap.â He furrowed his brow, looking more serious than usual. âIt bother Tora ever since. All those wrecks in dump surely not there since world began. As shown by big crane, new junkypons come in and old ones probably get recycled, too. Not just severed limbs either, which we know not disappear thanks to hunts in Land of Adventure, but bodies with heads.â
Poppi quickly boarded his train of thought. âBut in the World of Light, destroyed machines turn to ash and drop spirits, the same as living things. I remember from the junkyard in Mushroom Kingdom, and the robots who ambushed us near Parnasse.â
âExactly, meh. So why do broken robots turn up in dump?â Tora reiterated Blazermateâs question from before, now burning with curiosity. âTora want go back to dump and take closer look for self.â
The four of them retraced their steps to the Solid Waste landfill, and with the help of his artificial alliesâ eyes in the sky, Tora soon identified an android that looked reasonably intact. It seemed to be wedged in the dirt beneath the twisted, bullet-ridden husk of a DesoRHado UG, so he enlisted the othersâ help to pull it out. âOn three!â he said, directing Blazermate to take hold of the exposed legs as Poppi prepared her superstrength to lift the debris. âOne, two, three!â
The moment the android popped out, it sprang to life. Its rose into a sitting position and reached out to grab Blazermate by her kimono. With a face flattened into a mangled, unrecognizable, thirium-soaked mess of circuits and plastic, it gasped out just two words as Tora looked on, frozen in terror. âFindâŚJericho!â Then Poppiâs Variable Saber blazed in a brilliant arc, slicing through both of the huskâs forearms a moment before a point-blank blast from her revolver turned its grotesque mockery of a head into slag. Specks of the androidâs blue blood spattered Blazermateâs face as the torso splattered down into the mud, and yet despite its catastrophic damage, the remains showed no signs of disintegration.
âSorry about that, meh,â Tora said sheepishly. âDid not anticipate such fright. Not one bit.â He wiped a few flecks of thirium-310 from his fur, then waddled closer. âThis only prove it, though,â he murmured. âBody still intact. Maybe secret lie inside?â He plopped down his tool box, took out a blow torch and screwdriver, then got to work.
Without any need to worry about component damage or eventual reconstruction like he did while working on Band of Raiden, Tora could dig into the machine without any regard for its wellbeing, and get straight to the heart of the matter. He pulled it apart piece by piece, stopping only to marvel at the slick ingenuity of the mechanical organs that seemed to cleverly mimic human anatomy. Removal after removal, however, the body did not turn to ash. Not even the loss of the robust heart-pump responsible for the purification and circulation of thirium-310 throughout the androidâs system seemed to trigger a meltdown. Increasingly puzzled, Tora continued to ravage the wreckâs innards until heâd opened up its whole torso cavity, and only a few components remained. When Poppi held her Variable Saber close for a little extra light, however, he saw it: tucked away in the electronics by the spine where the heart once resided lay a small black chip, no bigger and barely any thicker than a playing card. Tora jammed his screwdriver beneath one side and pried it loose, and the instant the last transistor parted ways with its housing, the android wreck began to buckle. Tora watched as the gutted hardware turned to ash, then held up the unassuming component in his blue-stained wing. âBingo.â
He handed it to Poppi, who snapped a photo of the mysterious chip before examining both front and back. âWhat is it?â
âIt black box of some sort,â Tora replied. âCommon electronic failsafe, built to preserve important data and record what happened in case of catastrophic equipment failure..â He narrowed his eyes. âTora have sneaking suspicion that android spirit actually in there. Which mean that whoever make machines not only aware of spirits, but make products salvageable for some reason.â
Poppi gave the black box back to him with a shake of her head, unable to determine anything about it save one critical detail. âThat must mean Cyberlife.â
âMeh-meh,â her masterpon agreed. He snapped his toolbox shut and tucked his wrench into his pocket like he meant business. âTora think friends should pay visit to headquarters.â
The group stood there for a moment before Poppi poked him. âAs cool as that sounded, we donât know where it is. Plus, weâve completed our current assignment. We should find Giovanna.â
âMehhhâŚokay.â
They didnât know any closer bus stops than the one by the Android Zone, so once again they went back the way they came. On the way through the Detroit streets, Poppi caught wind of some sort of commotion the next street over. Despite the potential danger, Tora chose to investigate and led the team down the block. On the way over they kept an eye out for any unsavory characters lurking in the darkness, just as Giovanna advised, but the four traveling together with obvious firepower on their side kept all onlookers at a distance. They arrived to see a hazy plaza with black, withered plants cast like shadows by bright cyan and yellow lights. Many people milled around, going about their errands with many a glance over their shoulders, or wallowing on cardboard boxes in the friendless hell of unemployment. A cluster of people had gathered with signs in one corner next to the busy intersection, making sure their noisy demonstration reached as many human ears as possible.
âWhat do we want!?â
âBAN ANDROIDS!â
âWhen do we want it!?â
âNOW!â
âWhat do we want!?â
âWORKERSâ RIGHTS!â
âWhen do we want them?â
âNOW!â
As Tora watched, he noticed an android with some sort of parcel veer away from the protest. Even with a few G-men in the area, which the Nopon couldnât fail to notice as well, the machine clearly wanted nothing to do with the angry crowd. As the android hurried on his way, Tora also realized that he lacked any sort of human chaperone. Was he really running an errand on his own, in an undercity renowned for criminal activity? Tora wondered if Blazermate might be wrong about the existence of a prohibition against unaccompanied automatons. The direction of the androidâs movement led Toraâs gaze to another bus stop, which worked perfectly for his merry band of bots. âCâmon!â he said, waving to the others as he bounded off..
They caught up with the android in question at the bus stop, where he stood waiting in the designated zone. âMehllo!â the Nopon greeted, slightly out of breath. âAm Tora, what your name? Pleased to meet! Tora have few questions, if friend not mind?â
âMy name is Markus. With nothing to do but wait, the android gave a courteous smile. âHow can I help?â
âTora want know two things. First, can machines travel city on own without running into problems? Third, where is CyberLife base?â
He watched the androidâs LED turn yellow for a brief moment, then back to bright blue as he began to apply. âMy name is Markus. Both military and civilian machines like myself may move through Midgar unaccompanied according to their ownersâ orders, so long as they possess proper IDs and authorization. State-of-the-art onboard GPS, cybersecurity, and memory modules discourage acts of theft or violence. The CyberLife Tower stands in Sector 5, the City of Glass.â He looked over his shoulder as a bus approached, then back down to Tora. âIs there anything else?â
âNo, that all Tora think of right now.â As the bus stopped and passengers began to board, followed by androids, Tora turned to the others. âFriends should take bus back to train station. It seem like folks know better than mess with other peopleâs machines!â He climbed aboard and grabbed himself a seat. As she went to join him, Poppi spotted Markus on his way to the designated android area at the back of the bus, where a handful of other automatons already stood in stolid silence. Without any insight into heavy-handed racism analogies, she could only shoot her Masterpon a look that said be careful on your own, then with a heavy sigh follow in the androidâs footsteps.
With one exception, the Seekers made quick work of the jump and climb in front of them to reach the decrepit tenement. Neither agile nor gung-ho enough to make the trip, Benedict volunteered to stay behind on lookout duty. Giovanna, still a little wary of the Turk, accepted on the condition that Rei stay behind with him as a guard dog, and Benedict didnât have much say in the matter. Just a few moments later, the others got into position, then swooped down on the drug peddlersâ hideout like falcons on mice.
They each picked their targets. Separate from most of the others were a couple dudes in front of a ramshackle TV setup, mashing buttons on some old-timey fighting game. Giovanna landed on the shoulders of the man playing as a zoner, taking him so utterly by surprise that he couldnât even yell before her legs clasped around his neck. âIâm throwing you,â she informed him, and so she did. By leaning backward into a handstand on the floor behind the couch and flexing her abdominals, she sent the thug flying back into the apartment buildingâs central cavity.
As he fell, howling all the way, his deathgrip on his controller caused the wire to yank the console straight out of the entertainment center, which seemed to startle the other goon a lot more than the loss of his opponent. He grabbed the bat that leaned against his bug-eaten sofa and whirled around. âHeyâŚ!â
âHey yourself.â Giovanna fully extended her leg with a jumping split kick to hammer the manâs jaw with the pawprint sole of her shoe. He smashed headfirst into the TV screen and lodged inside it, down for the count. Dusting off her hands, the secret agent looked over to see how the others were doing, and found them both already several murders deep as they ruthlessly cut through the Hoodlum Dolls. â...Ah.â Did these guys deserve it? Maybe. They no doubt perpetrated countless crimes throughout Midgarâs seedy underbelly, including the distribution of dangerous and degenerative drugs, with a couple kills of their own probably under their belts. But Giovanna didnât assign herself the mantle of judge, jury, and executioner all in one. While the people she beat up might not necessarily be okay afterwards, she did not intend to slaughter them, and yet that was what the strike she led on this place brought aboutâa slaughter. Geralt straight-up outclassed them in terms of strength and fortitude, while Raiden reaped them like grain with those blades of his. Did that fluffy little guy with the toolbox back at HQ really have this in mind when he agreed to install themâŚ?
Well, no turning back now. Down at the bottom of the building, the ringleaders saw their lackeys dropping like flies and went into panic mode. As the clients fled or hid, the stash carrier loaded up his cache of money and Red Ice packets onto the Stash Vehicle, and a clattering garage door began to slide open. Giovanna jumped again and silently dropped to the bottom floor. As a shadow fell across the driver, she looked up to see Giovanna descend in a flame-wreathed dive kick. âFear on the wind.â She hit the other woman in the stomach, then plowed her through the stash behind her with a series of burning aerial kicks that ended in with a fiery Sol Nascente. The strongboxâs contents got scattered across the bottom floor as the driver tumbled through it, only to crash into and nearly crack in half a door behind her. â...Tempestade.â
Behind Giovanna, the stash vehicle toppled over with a slam, which seemed to jolt the stunned carrier into action. He pulled a gun on someone, but Giovanna dashed in with lightning speed to grab hold of his wrist and break his elbow against her forearm. One leg sweep later and he hit the ground face-first, where he lay holding his arm, sobbing as he begged for his life. âHuh.â She smoothed out her hair, flipped her braid back over her shoulder, and tilted her head. âNot as hard as you thought you were, huh? If youâre gonna try and kill someone, you should be ready to pay for your life if you fail.â The front door burst open to reveal Benedict with sword and shield in hand. Behind him, Rei was shaking one of the outside guards like a chew toy, while another lay twitching on the ground thanks to Benedictâs electric riot shield. âGuess that just about wraps things up here.â
She made a quick glyph call while Geralt collected the sky-hooks and Raiden helped himself to some spirits. While his decision to fuse with one of the pistoleers took Giovanna by surprise, the fact that he looked weaker after doing so did not. Less armor and less muscle wouldnât help him in his next fight, but hey, at least his hair looked fancy. He immediately complained about feeling less intelligent. âUhâŚThatâs the caliber of spirit you fuse with?â Giovanna asked, an eyebrow raised. âYou do you, of course, but a good spiritâs a lot like a good suit.â She leaned back, stretching her arms above her head. âGotta find the right fit.â
Giovanna remembered all the formless dead and sighed. Rei joined her and nudged her head under the womanâs arm, obliging her to scratch her noggin. âI called the police. Theyâll be here in a few minutes to mop up. Letâs take what we came for and get out here.â
The four hurried on their way, and how better to escape the scene of the crime than to sail through the undercity via the sky-lines. As the newcomers soon found out, though, the lines wound above the streets and between the buildings without any apparent rhyme or reason. Suspended by their new sky-hooks and forced to hold on with their own strength, the team hurtled through Detroitâs hazy yellow lights and murky shadows fast enough to whip their hair like flags in a stiff wind. Superhuman sight would come in handy in order to just make sense of the rail ridersâ surroundings as they flew by. Giovanna remembered the sky-line she saw near the train station though, and knew that when the rail emerged from the upper alleyways to dangle her legs over orange-tinted Quarantine Valley far below, it would almost be time to get off this wild ride.
Unfortunately, they never got that far. About twenty seconds after Giovanna hooked a right turn at a rail split in what she thought was the right direction, the sky-line came to an abrupt end. Sliding along at full tilt, Giovannaâs sky-hook skipped right over the stopper, and she went flying through the open air with her brows raised. âOh.â After a moment spent trying to control her momentum, she flipped over a large metal pipe and released jets of air from her shoes to guide her smoothly down to the ground. She landed in a drab brown lot and slid for a couple dozen feet in a low stance with her arms extended, and when the dust cleared she rose with a nonchalant expression. Geralt and Raiden landed behind her, more or less in one piece, while Benedict -whoâd lagged behind out of an abundance of caution- managed to stop before he flew off the rail. âGuess itâs not a circuit,â she said with a shrug.
Giovanna took a quick look around. Her crew appeared to have landed in the right side lot of one Agua Mofeta Brewery, although an act vandalism on the billboard atop the main building at the back of the complex turned it into âAss Brewing Co.â Two giant propane tanks dominated this side, but she could see cars on the opposite side and, more importantly, another vista of Quarantine Valley across the street in front of the brewery. That meant theyâd reached Detroitâs extremity, and that proceeding in this direction would bring the team back to the train station where they started. Unfortunately, things might not be quite so simple. High walls surrounded the brewery on all sides, with outward-facing security cameras in abundance, and a number of strange barrel drones stalked around on patrol. A few brass vats of orange liquid looked pretty sketchy, as well. Giovanna slid into the shadow of a wall and crouched down behind a small red car. âLooks like they take security seriously around here,â she told the others in a low voice. âLetâs keep a low profile and sneak out of this place. We donât wanna be put on any more watch lists.â At the very least, this jumbled mess of a brewery seemed to feature a lot of ways to get around, especially now that she wielded a sky-hook that would let her slide along beneath lengths of metal. If she and the others could just get across the brewery to the orange tower on the other side, the rail that wound around it in a vertical corkscrew would give them more than enough height to escape to another set of sky-lines along the adjacent street.
Galvanized into action by the crushing damage that blindsided both Primrose and Rubick, the Koopa Troop went into overdrive, all four of them fighting tooth and nail with all they had to both whittle the needlessly large spider down and keep their fallen friends safe from further harm. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, and in a terrific display of magic and might the underground forest, once eerily quiet, erupted into a raging battlefield. Through all the chaos, however, Bowserâs true-blue team found a method in the madness, one predicated on the fact that despite her vicious strength and versatile teleportation, Silithaâs bag of tricks only went so deep.
That didnât necessarily change when she called in Deephunters for backup, but their arrival complicated things, not least because their virulent orange spit bypassed Kamekâs protection. Most of the smaller spiders had cleared out by now to give the Brood Mother a wide berth, lest they too be crushed in the mayhem, but Junior was right; if the tides of battle turned against his team now, the eight-legged hordes would surge forth again, and drown their prey in a flood of burning pain. Shadow Clones fanned out in pursuit of the Deephunters, but they kept on the move, climbing through the heights between silhouetted hiding spots to confound and shoot down their assailants. Junior himself went for Silitha, and she turned to her tiny attacker as he closed in, happy to oblige his deathwish. A giant forelimb smashed the ground next to him, but it was telegraphed just enough to be dodged, and the child cast his spell. Silitha slumped down, momentarily dazzled by divine light. That gave Rika the opening she needed to unleash hell, perforating Silithaâs carapace with a withering bombardment from her main gun.
Unfortunately, that exhausted the last of her ammunition well short of the final blow, and Silitha rose to her legs with a horrendous shriek. With a forelimb she reached into the teeming masses of small spiders in the darkness, scooped hundreds of them up, and flung them like a child splashing water. The arachnid wave swept over everyone in front of her not hidden behind something, knocking the lighter ones to the ground before the spiderlings got to work spinning their webs. As the heroes struggled, the eyes of a dozen Deephunters lit up in the shadows where theyâd taken refuge, and at Silithaâs command they opened fire like venomous ballistae.
The bombardment closed in on the sitting ducks who didnât manage to escape their webs. Before they would rain down, however, buzzing filled the air. Dark shapes darted through the gloom, and one after another the blobs burst in the air. Silitha hissed. âW̸hĚ´aĚľtĚľ Ě´h̸aĚśp̸p̡e̸n̸eĚľdĚś?̡ ̡ ĚľSĚľh̡o̡oĚ´tĚś ̸t̡h̸eĚľm̸,Ěľ ̸yĚ´o̸u̡ ĚľfĚśoĚ´oĚľlĚ´s̸!Ě´ ĚľKĚ´iĚľlĚľlĚś ̡tĚ´h̡eĚ´mĚ´ ̸nĚ´-!â
In a blur something appeared in front of her nightmarish faceâa striped warrior who held in one hand a serrated blade that gleamed even in the pale light of the colorless wood, with teeth that traveled along the weaponâs edge on their own. The swordsman used it -and the element of surprise- to carve through a couple of Silithaâs eyes in one fell stroke. With another shriek she teleported into the background, and the newcomer fell to the ground. Spiders crowded around him, but as they drew near he raised his head and sword high.
âHUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAH!â
The sheer force of his bellowing cry blew the spiderlings around him back, and he waved his flaming blade above his head. âNever fear, unlucky travelers!â As he yelled a jagged mouth opened in his hairy head, making him look like a roaring lion. âFor I, Barnabee, the Hive Knight, have come!â As one the Deephunters shot down at him, but even flightless the big bee was fleet of foot. He nimbly hopped around, bouncing like a basketball, and when the barrage ended he took in a deep breath. âHUZZAH!â He opened wide to release a dozen Hivelings to hunt down the Deephunters, turning predator into prey. Silitha teleported in to crush him, but he dodged backward in a stripy blur, sliding to a stop by the Seekers as the last one tore free of the spiderlingsâ silk. âFriends! Let us finish this foulllll creature for good and all!â He leveled his blade at Silitha, then without waiting for agreement charged forward once more. âHUZZZZZZAH!â
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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