Lugubrious

World of Light

The sheet looks good, aside from the Valjean image being for ants. If possible I'd like to add a third weakness to balance with his three strengths since both weaknesses are not terribly combat relevant.

World of Light

The Astral Plane

Level 3 Goldlewis (30/30)
Goldlewis, Roxas’ @Double, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 857

From the moment they arrived, the Seekers got to experience just how perilous the Astral Plane could be firsthand. The land here, if it could even be called that, hung over a seemingly infinite drop, and no matter where the visitors went a brink was seldom far away. They had no choice but to trust in the integrity of these inexplicably suspended spans of sheer obsidian, overgrown with crimson crags and riddled by golden seams, which left them at the Astral Plane’s mercy. Though practically indistinguishable from one another, the different types of stone behaved in different ways. Some would fizzle out a second or so after someone set foot atop them, completely disappearing for a time and dropping any hapless individuals who hadn’t moved on. Most platforms were ‘locked’ in their current positions, but some slid back and forth through the air in set patterns, and others could be moved by force. With the astral entities added to the mix, lurching weirdly around or raining down gunfire from afar, the going was tough.

Of course, the Seekers were resourceful, and put their multifaceted talents to the task. A few could fly, either in short bursts or continuously, to cross over the many gaps without plummeting into the void. Karen could grapple to points of interest, and Roxas could run across and up ninety-degree surfaces, or ping-pong between them. While the distorted enemies made themselves a frequent nuisance, they also proved themselves lacking in terms of endurance, speed, and intelligence. That made traversal the principal challenge, and luckily for the Seekers, this astral archipelago extended mostly in one direction. Even if no deep southern voice answered Karin’s call, she could be reasonably assured where its owner had been taken, and hasten in the same direction alongside all the others. However, one other strange impediment presented itself, noticeable only in brief moments of rest as the Seekers made their way along. If given a moment to reflect, they might notice that they felt…dirty. Like something weird was on them. In them. Building up. Weighing them down. Subtly, but there nonetheless. Nobody in his or her right mind could call it a good feeling.

After about twenty minutes of navigation through the alien dimension, the team closed in on the terminus. A straight path led between two high, uneven walls to a final large platform on the other side, accessible by a series of room-sized stepping stones to those who couldn’t just sail overhead. Even before they reached the end, though, the Seekers could see -and hear- what awaited them. Goldlewis was on his feet, but only just, making his stand against the entity that had abducted him. When it first extruded its limbs into the World of Light it had been as invisible as the other chimeras, and the glimpse the heroes caught as it flew off through the Astral Plane had been scarcely more defined, but now for whatever reason they could see it. It looked like a burly torso of hard red armor, with a glowing core in the center of its chest, and above that an inverted face half-hidden beneath a sort of cowl, its eyes and mouth glowing like magma. Rather than full arms it sported only shoulders and gauntlet-like forearms, but those massive mitts floated freely, ready to bash and bludgeon, and its shoulders featured huge trunk-like cannons. Instead of legs it bore strange hemisphere limbs sort of like sleds. It towered above Goldlewis, easily twice his already-remarkable size. And compared to earlier, it now looked almost completely opaque, more than real enough to wound and kill its prey. It looked almost like a demon, but the heroes knew that this was a chimera–the first they had ever seen.

Enceladus was a massive, mighty bully. It liked to throw its weight around, charging like a battering ram from hell, but those arms packed an incredible punch too, and when it pounded the ground the matter of the Astral Plane reacted by cracking to unleash a fiery splash. If it stretched out its hand toward a target, a fusillade of fire bolts shot from its fingers would surely follow, though the projectiles blazed through the air a lot slower than bullets. Then again, it also didn’t mind using finger lasers that created explosions when swept across the ground. Enceladus could send off and remotely control its hands as well, but a lot of its destructive power lay in those two cannons, capable of firing explosive cubic payloads or powerful energy beams, themselves also more than capable of causing explosions in their wake.

As the Seekers joined the battle they could see just how bad it had been for Goldlewis. Such a strong monster would be an incredibly formidable opponent on its own, but without his coffin the veteran could rely on nothing but the strength of his own two hands, and as great as that might be every man had his limits. Goldlewis was on his last legs; this fight was do or die.

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (133/110) Level 12 Poppi (23/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 993

Giovanna’s attempt to smooth things over came to a crashing halt when Zenkichi cut in, and not just with any run-of-the-mill intercession, either. While the secret agent didn’t know what Manananggal was she could put two and two together thanks to the explicit knowledge that this man believed she and her crew killed it. Giovanna plopped back down in her chair, watched in worried silence by Poppi and especially Tora, who by now had actually been distracted to the point of interrupting his meal. Giovanna’s retelling of past events had been meant to show that her little band had nothing to hide, but after this crucial tidbit of misinformation had come to light it meant she’d stumbled right into disaster. No matter how she tried to play nice now, Zenkichi wouldn’t be having any of it. Plus, if this Turk actually took the time to memorize the names of his goons’ true forms, he was even more fastidious than she originally thought. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

“It sounds like you ought to get your facts checked. You of all people should know that those shadows’ testimony isn’t reliable. Khamsin’s the one who butchered Manananggal, and if you want proof, you’ll find it smeared all over his axe. He was pretty shameless about it.” She crossed her arms. “If I were you, I’d be a lot more worried about DespoRHado than a couple street cleaners. It sounds like they’ve got a bone to pick with Shinra’s administration, and they’ve sure got the manpower for a coup d’etat.”

The tense exchange didn’t last much longer. After expressing his disappointment with Benedict’s intended departure from General Affairs, and urging the Seekers to keep to themselves, the detective went on his way. It was an abrupt change; for a minute it sounded like he’d be calling in the G-men, but now he suddenly had better places to be. Giovanna took a long drink of water from her glass, thinking. Tora, Poppi, and everyone echoed Geralt’s confusion, but whatever Benedict’s answer might be, Giovanna figured she could better address the Witcher’s question.

“Definitely not,” Giovanna sighed. “I mean, it’s good for your health not to trust anyone in General Affairs in, well, general, but even if this guy’s somehow a diamond in the rough, we’re probably in trouble. Wrong or not, he’s holding us responsible for Khamsin mulching that split-in-half vampire woman. And with Benny’s resignation, he just gave up his professional courtesy. I’d be willing to bet his arrival here wasn’t just a chance encounter, either. They might have caught on to us while we were spread out and followed us here.”

Tora fidgeted in his chair. “Meh…that may be true. Tora and Poppi not really pay attention. We spend time playing hitty-ball game for shinybig prizes.”

“...That explains the new gear. Ugh.” Giovanna massaged her eyes with the palms of her hands, then gave Benedict a weary glance. “We’re gonna need to get our story straight in the future. That guy was right, the less details the better. Speechcraft just isn’t my strong suit; I’m better with problems I can hit.” With the bill paid up front, she stood up from the table.

Poppi followed her example. “It’s alright, you did the best you could. But we should probably get going, right?”

“That’s the problem.” Crossing her arms, Giovanna looked out the door. Her tone was hushed. “He might not just let us leave.”

“Tora see. Should prepare for worst then, meh.” Tora popped the last bit of savory pizza into his mouth, wiped his wing off, then jumped down to the ground. He adjusted his pack, making sure his new hammer could be reached readily and easily. Once Geralt, Blazermate, Susie, and Benedict were all ready as well, the crew made for the pizzeria’s front door.

Outside, the street seemed oddly empty, even for the furtive citizens who hustled around this area in the shadow of DespoRHado’s Bunker. Tora and Poppi looked around. As ordered, Zenkichi’s G-men were making themselves as inconspicuous as possible, in the best way they knew how. Two were crouching around a manhole with plungers in hand, while one appeared to be using a wrench to play pinfinger on the hood of a random car. One stood in front of a store’s windows with a washrag in hand, but rather than scrub the glass he towel-snapped it with the wet, wound-up cloth. Poppi rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother…”

A couple seconds later the moment Zenkichi had been waiting for arrived, and he appeared from behind a statue. He fixed his eyes on Benedict. “Pascal. You're going to get more than yourself hurt if you keep talking like that. I don't want to hurt you, but I do need to know exactly what you know. This goes deeper than any one of us, and I can't have you messing this up for me.”

Giovanna put her hands on her hips and gave a thin smile “Sorry, mister. But Special Ops needs him right where he is.”

Zenkichi shook his head with a sort of resigned frustration. The four G-men dropped their pretenses and began to approach. “I’m afraid I’m not asking.”

The inhuman peacekeepers doffed their hats and transformed in bursts of shadowy tar. Tora recognized Loup-Garou from before, but the other three took the forms of Apsaras, Jack Frost, and last but certainly not least a fearsome three-headed engine of chrome, Chemtrail. The first two looked weak, but strength practically billowed off that last one. Tora armed himself with his new Star Crusher while Poppi kept hold of her Variable Saber, not forgetting the new set of beads she’d earned that outfitted her with fresh dance moves. Just another legally dubious fight.

Home of Tears

Level 10 Nadia (135/100)
Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Omori’s @Majoras End, Ganondorf’s @Double, the Knight
Word Count: 1925

After receiving the map from Cornifer and expressing her gratitude, Nadia unrolled it and turned to leave the shelter of the gazebo, looking over its contents. Her map of the Under itself seemed to have grown, but for now she focused on the map of the city itself. The Home of Tears featured a pretty uniform layout, at least from such a lofty perspective. Four districts, just like the mapmaker said, and the one her team wanted -or more accurately, desperately needed given the amount of coughing going on- lay to the east. For a moment Nadia wondered if Cornifer drew this while hanging from the ceiling or something. While he looked a little rotund for such extensive fieldwork, he’d already proven that the heroes would do well not to underestimate him. Just how far were they underground now, anyway? Well, whatever. She planned to keep up the established tradition by taking the lead, and almost set foot outside before a frantic Cornifer gave her pause. “Wait wait, stop!”

Though terribly ill and fatigued, Nadia still jumped at the sudden shout, wondering if something was wrong. “Huh!? What!?”

“Don’t just walk out into the rain with the map out!” the cartographer admonished her. “It’s…well, I know it’s yours now, and you may do with it as you please, but I thought I should say. If you hold it out under the rain, all the work I poured into it will be washed away! You’ll also have no way to know where you’re going lest you commission a replacement, so please, be careful.”

Nadia chuckled, jokingly palming the side of her head. “Aha…right. Duh.” She rolled up the map and put it in her pocket. Then, after staring out into the pounding rain for a moment, she pulled it out again for another inspection. “Uh…which way is it from here, again…?” In her state, it would be a wonder if she could memorize a birthday card, let alone a complicated and yet at the same time abstract representation of an entire city’s layout.

Luckily, fate had another surprise in store for the team this evening, and this time it turned out for the better. After a few moments a stranger came to call on the mapmaker in his cozy gazebo, stumbling over through the rain with a bulging sack slung over his shoulder just to say hello. Nadia glanced over as he drew near. He turned out to be a man, well out of his prime but still animated by a youthful spirit, with a bright maroon suit, a scruffy goatee, and an impressively voluminous head of hair. His tone and even his body language conveyed a sort of wholehearted cheerfulness, which was saying something considering the man appeared to be soaked through by the constant rain, and after catching just one glimpse of the Seekers huddled around the Gazebo (which included the comatose, antlion-borne Ganondorf) he could tell just how debilitated they were. Nadia couldn’t help but laugh at his forthright outburst. He wasn’t exactly wrong. “Not one of my better days, I’ll admit.” Even making puns felt a little much for her right now.

He offered to guide them to the Sanitarium, which through sheer coincidence happened to be his destination. The others might be dubious, but the news left Nadia with a smile of extravagant relief on her face. If this man’s clinking sack contained more capsules like the one the sharp-eyed thief saw roll across the ground earlier, which looked for the world like vials of healing tonic, she felt inclined to believe him. This guy looked like a goof, but someone who’d go the extra mile to get things done if it meant helping someone out. The best kind of person. Who but a kind-hearted fool would lug around a bag full of this stuff in the pouring rain after all, especially dressed as eye-catchingly as that? It was a stroke of good fortune at last. Nadia jammed the map in her pocket and stepped back out of the gazebo and into the rain. Now that she’d been shivering beneath shelter for a moment the rain felt positively warm, like jumping back into a pool after getting out on a less-than-balmy day. “Say no more,” she declared.

Ichiban led the team through the streets, across the bridges, and along the canals of the Home of Tears as fast as his new retinue could go, anxious to get them treatment. Although these surroundings interested Nadia greatly, being a city built and lived in principally by non-human hands, everything passed by in a blur. She felt dazed and half-conscious, wracked by coughs every other moment. Sightseeing could come later. The Seekers needed a cure for what ailed them, and quickly.

At length, Ichiban brought Nadia and the others across a final bridge to their destination, not within the confines of the Downtown district itself, but sitting on an island directly adjacent to it. Formally known as the Addermire Institute of Infectious Disease, but better known to the city residents as the Sanitarium, this imposing hospital of glass and stone had clearly seen better days. Rusted metal, dead plants, and cracked concrete were all common sights, but a ghostly blue light poured from its many windows, courtesy of the whale-oil lamps therein. Once everyone reached the front desk Ichiban needed to hurry off to finish his delivery, but he wasn’t the only one who could tell what was wrong with the team with a single glance. The bright blue eyes of the pink-haired lady behind the counter filled with worry when she approached. “Goodness me, did you all enter the Womb? Stained with blood, coughing like mad. It’s good we have plenty of room, we’ll see to you straight away.” She pressed a button behind the desk, which made a buzzer go off in a room not too far away.

A little nervous, Nadia ran a hand over her face and hair, wiping the water off. “Is it bad?”

“It’s…certainly not good,” Nurse Joy admitted, scribbling on a set of forms at lightspeed. “But it’s a reasonably common case. Virtually everyone who goes there contracts the same diseases. It’ll take some doing to get them out, and it may not be pleasant, but we can do it.” She glanced up at the Seekers, visually confirming something, then started to scribble again. After a moment, a small team of hospital workers arrived with gurneys, led by a stern-looking nurse with glasses. They bid the diseased adventurers lay down, and relieved Sectonia’s antlions of their heavy burden, though the gurney creaked under Ganondorf’s weight. Everyone got whisked away to separate rooms, then helped out of their clothes and given hospital gowns in exchange.

After only a few moments, Nadia found herself alone, lying in a dark room where the only lamp made the surgical equipment cast eerie shadows on the walls. Just what were these instruments? Nadia peered around with wide eyes and lips pursed when not seized by coughing. Some of this equipment looked positively medieval. Come to think of it, why did those egg-shaped creatures strap her in? She tugged at the belt-like bindings, but it was no good. They wouldn’t budge an inch. Fear began to creep through her, but she felt too terrible to focus on it, and just lay there in a state of worried delirium until the door slammed open. Her eyes shot to the entrance, where she saw a frog in a surgical mask, followed by a man in blue carrying a clipboard. “Suspected Red Plague. Creeping Cough. Ooh, tetanus, how fun. Hemophilia? Eh, may as well.” The man spoke with a pronounced German accent. After drawing close he tossed the clipboard on the bedside table in a casual manner, then glanced at Nadia, rubbing his chin as he noted her ears and tail. “Possible rabies. Yes, yes. Just in case. Couldn’t hurt.” He turned away to a nearby cupboard and opened it to root around inside. “...Much.”

Nadia gulped. “Uh, what was that just now?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Just relax.” The Medic turned back, snapping his glove as he did. Nadia eyed the syringe in his hand, which he flicked in order to remove air bubbles. Only when he turned a leering grin on the feral did she really start to struggle. “It’s time to practice medicine.”

Nadia screamed until the sedative overtook her.

---

Somewhere between two and three hours later, Nadia could be found sitting in the sanitarium lobby, rigid as a mannequin with eyes as wide as saucers. A free lollipop protruded from her mouth, her hands lay on her knees in a white-knuckled deathgrip, and a sticker that read I gave blood =) lay on the breast of her jacket. She’d been like that for a while. The Chanseys had put her clothes through the washer and dryer during her stay at Addermire, but she couldn’t thank the people here for much more than that. Well, that and curing her diseases in almost no time flat, all things considered, but that crazy doctor and his 'treatment' had to have taken years off her life. Surely most of that stuff couldn't be proper medicine? There had been actual leeches in one of those jars, for goodness' sake! Nadia shuddered. She felt more or less fine now, thanks to both her regeneration and the medic's medibeam, but she could hardly describe the ordeal as pleasant, and she didn't even want to consider what all had happened while unconscious. “I need…a damn drink.”

Unfortunately, drinks cost money, and she’d spent everything she earned in that nightmarish basement on the Night Light in her sternum, which she was strongly beginning to suspect might not be a gemstone at all. Her pockets were empty, which meant no much-needed alcohol, no food, no spa treatment (however well deserved) and not even a place to spend the night. What time was it anyway, eight, nine? The thought did occur to her that she could probably solicit a room in Addermire overnight, but she knew more surely than she’d ever known anything before that she wouldn’t be caught dead inside a room in this place ever again. I’d rather sleep outside in the deluge, she thought, grumbling to herself. Wouldn’t be the first time. Then again, most of the inhabitants of this rain-drenched city seemed to be bugs. If she crashed in some alley she could get swarmed by giant earwigs or flies or something. No, she needed money, and that left her with only one option: doing what she did best.

With a heavy sigh Nadia stood up, still a little shaky and very twitchy. She spat the lollipop stick onto the floor and rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen up. “Here I go stealin’ again,” she muttered to herself, pulling out her map. “Royal Quarter’s gotta be it. If I hit some rich sucker, I’ll be set for tonight at least. Somethin’ warm to eat…somewhere dry to sleep…and enough beer to kill a horse. Yeah.” She plodded toward the front door, then turned to glower and glare back at the insides of the Addermire Institute. Nadia hissed, then pushed through the doors and ran out into the rain.

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Imogen Reed

With most of the fight gone from her just from the realization of how badly she’d screwed up, Imogen wanted to sink into the sand, her hope drained away like rain in the desert. She’d reached a dead end with no way out, and there was nothing she could think of to do to solve any of the problems that hounded her. Ever since she came to that fateful conclusion, she had strived to live each day in caution, temperance, and control, avoiding anything that could cause conflict or bring any sort of misfortune down upon her head. Never good, never bad, just ‘fine’. Reaching out for high notes just hadn’t been worth the possibility of hitting the lows. What good could she possibly have found out there, after all? But now misery had befallen her regardless. Maybe it was karma, built up over the course of years to come crashing down. The wolves that once snapped at her heels had fallen so far into the background that she stopped running, and now they caught up with her. Despite doing her very best for so long, little as that might be, Imogen was going to die here, more disliked and alone than ever.

As she sat there in the sand, her face in her hands, Sofia approached her. Her apology and excuse weren’t airtight, but Imogen didn’t have the energy to snap at her anymore. Besides, weren’t the two of them just the same, in a way? Imogen also lashed out in an unconstructive manner, after all, and far more vehemently too, only to unintentionally -but understandably- make others feel bad. That said, was Sofia still to blame for all this, and justifiably so? Absolutely. But Imogen knew she’d been a jerk. The embarrassment stung her even more acutely than the still-hard-to-process realization that she’d somehow appeared on a deserted island. Maybe. Either way, the fact remained that she’d broken character, and in a rather dramatic fashion too. There had been a lot more pressure behind that damn than she realized, and it burst with such power that she didn’t know if she could put it back together again, at least not in the same way. But was there any point to picking up the pieces she’d held together for so long? If she was going to die anyway, didn’t she deserve to be herself for once?

Of course, her real self wasn’t an asshole. At least, Imogen hoped it wasn’t. Outspoken and impulsive, maybe. She wanted to be someone who meant what she said and said what she meant. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone, not really. Even if it helped in the moment, she wouldn’t feel any better in the long run, and considering how she felt right now, ‘long’ was probably an overstatement. She knew she needed to make amends, and so what if it hurt her pride? Not like she should have any pride to hurt in the first place.

Imogen rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got shakily to her feet. She turned to see Maive, still a blubbering mess, but now locked in a powerful heartfelt embrace with Sofia. Imogen blinked, her brows upturned. Was Maive looking for some sort of support or stability, no matter the source? Was she thankful that Sofia got them into this mess for some bizarre reason? Could this be the startup of an elaborate wrestling move? Or was it…forgiveness?

All of a sudden Imogen found her contemplation time at an end as Maive turned her way, extended a hand to shake. Imogen almost recoiled from the proffered limb on instinct. If Maive meant to forgive her too, Imogen really didn’t deserve it. She’d made quite the uproar taking out her frustrations and couldn’t reasonably blame anyone if they communally decided to shut or out, or band together and chuck her in the ocean. Her cheeks reddened with the embarrassment of guilt, and for a moment she hung her head. If Maive meant it, though, Imogen owed it to her to accept. Though a small girl, Maive had chosen to be the bigger man. That took more guts than anything Imogen could remember doing. She pushed up her glasses, took a few steps forward, and shook Maive by the hand, secretly glad that it -and its owner- weren’t as snotty as they could’ve been about this. “Thank you,” she mumbled, her voice small.

Beyond this, she couldn’t think of anything worthwhile to do. Might as well follow along with the others. If they left to find Team Coconuts, she’d trail along, smoldering quietly.

World of Light

Great Hollow

Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose’s @Yankee, Rubick’s @Scarifar, Teemo’s @Bugman

The further the heroes and their fuzzy new acquaintance descended through the hollow trunk, the more treacherous it became. Narrow and unpredictable organic pathways forced climbers to constantly second-guess or reposition themselves; there was no direct route. Wobbly or brittle branches threatened to bend or break beneath the newcomer’s weight, and animate toadstools waited patiently in the shaded recesses to sink their fangs into any unwary travelers hoping to find shelter or firmer footing, although it didn’t take long for any would-be ambushes went horribly south for the feral fungi as their prey turned out to be more than a match for them. Those who could float, fly, or glide scarcely got off any easier, since the air in here could hardly be called ‘open’. Branches and briars reached out like clawing hands to snare loose clothing and scratch exposed skin. Clusters of fungus suffused in noxious spores and bundles of loose moss that couldn’t hold an adult’s weight if grabbed formed just a few of the challenges encountered.

Still, this was all in a day’s work for seasoned adventurers. Everyone made decent progress, many of them profiting from the perilous descent on the way. Despite its secrecy this space had evidently seen its fair share of wayfarers, and no small amount of them had dropped bits of gear or inventory while struggling up or down this wicked wooden labyrinth. It wasn’t difficult to imagine some poor soul slipping off a notched branch or misjudging a difficult jump, nor the subsequent fall to the bottom of the hollow far below, their bodies and gear scattered far and wide by the many terrible impacts on the way down like balls in the world’s largest pachinko machine. The Seekers who felt confident enough in their abilities managed to scoop up and pluck out a few extra pieces of loot on the way.

In the end, the greatest challenges in their way were the Basilisks, few in number but nevertheless a big problem. Though slow and lumbering their six legs and sharp claws gave them good purchase even on completely vertical stretches of bark, so they could turn up in unexpected places, wherever they appeared they provided a dangerous obstacle. Without even getting close to the heroes, the Basilisks could cripple their stats and deal constant agony with their special gaze attacks. For Primrose and even the typically brash Barnabee, simply going out of their way to avoid them seemed like the best option. That said, Teemo did turn out to be more enthusiastic about killing the animals than one might expect, and the Koopa Troop jumped at the chance for a fight, taking on several Basilisks in succession.

Eventually, a little sore and splintery but not terribly worse for wear, the team could go no further–though to call it the ‘bottom’ of the tree might be a hasty assessment. Rather than actually end, the trunk just filled with sandy soil that prevented further downward progress. Compared to the stark, almost petrified upper reaches of the hollow, this spot teemed with wetland flora, including leafy creepers, milkweed, sneezeweed, and sedge. Toward one side, in the shelter of a cagelike tangle of gnarled mangrove roots, a giant fanged crab with a carapace of stone and trees upon its back slumbered in its nest, surrounded by eggs so large that grown bears could curl up comfortably inside. Luckily, the nest lay opposite a jagged opening in the bark, so if everyone felt disinclined to tangle with their second overlarge arthropod in as many hours they could exit without difficulty. That wasn’t the only reason to head toward that gap, though. Just one casual glance in the direction of the curious blue-green light that eked through it was enough to ignite the curiosity, for it suggested that the heroes stood at the threshold of something not just incredible, but downright impossible. In just a couple moments the Seekers stepped out from the hollow to stand before a remarkable vista indeed.

Click for music

Before them spread a vast and mystical space, maybe too expansive to even call a cavern, especially since it lacked any visible walls or ceiling. Instead it stretched away into the distance until the haze rendered all a murky bluish fog, and upward to a layer of pale green clouds. The trunks of countless other unfathomably tall trees just like the one they’d just emerged from, rising like the columns of some primeval cathedral up from tranquil dark waters through the cloud layer and into the roof beyond. That water formed an immense, glass-smooth lake, and the team stood upon a large ridged bank of sand that wound a serpentine path from this trunk toward another a half-mile or so away. Though it might remind the Koopa Troop of the other impossible shore they encountered underground in the bleakest recesses of yesterday morning, this place lacked that other beach’s pervading sense of wrongness and doom. Instead it possessed a quiet majesty, enough to make one feel small and insignificant, but not afraid.

There were signs of life too, although many as strange and archaic as this place itself. Clams with teeth clung to the bark of the tree trunk beneath the surface, while in the shallows of the sand bank organisms known as ganoderma grew like underwater flowers. Googly-eyed shellfish both large and small called this place home, weathering the glares of ornery barnacles as they trawled for food alongside oblivious trilobites. All those who braved the shore lived in fear, however, of the hostile five-legged clams that stalked these forlorn shores, their enormous maws laden with the slimy skulls of their past victims. Still, that probably beat consigning oneself to the dark depths, where all manner of spine-chilling sea creatures no doubt lurked. Out at ‘sea’ the heroes could spot a number of whirlpools, but they weren’t the only breaches that could be glimpsed in the surface, and if one looked too long into the depths of the lake frightful glimmers could occasionally be seen.

The only land in this place seemed to be sandbanks like this one, and even those were rare. At the base of the tree at the other end of this one lay a large tangle of roots and branches with what might be a clearing inside.

Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Noumenon

Level 8 Big Band (45/80)
Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Red’s @TruthHurts22
Word Count:

To Big Band, the feat of leaping out over a two hundred and seventy foot drop after a plummeting demon to deal a climactic ground-pound finisher at the very bottom was ambitious enough, so he did not at all anticipate what happened next. While he and Albedo descended through the stories of the Noumenon with their sights on Artemis, Red co-opted the bystanders he’d already incorporate into a blade to form a rocket-powered fist that not only caught up to the two -much to Band’s wide-eyed surprise- but also blazed past them to deliver a gigantic punch that drove the wailing demon downward like a meteor. A moment later the two made impact with the bottom floor, and a terrific explosion of shrapnel, scrap paper, and flame ensued that rattled the library from A to Z.

Band could only shake his head in disbelief. “Well, that’s that problem solved.” Not at all aggrieved to have the rug swept out from under him in such an impressive fashion, he turned his mind to slowing his fall. While Ace utilized his Clutch Claw and Albedo proceeded with his original plan to reset his descent with a plunging attack near the floor, the detective deployed and activated his afterburners. Thanks to them he reached ground floor safe, sound, and only a handful of seconds after the Monster Hunter did. It did occur to him that they left Frisk behind up there, but with the threat and the civilians on terra firma she’d have all the time she needed to make her way down to them.

Not that it would take the rest of the group that long to finish this. It was a mess down here, with a great deal of furniture and countless books in utter disarray. Hopefully the authorities won’t hold it against us, Band thought. Lying in a bed of shredded paper in the wreckage of a large table was Artemis, and to the demon’s credit it managed to survive the impact, but that’s where the good news ended for it. Red’s wonderfully brutal punch took out a chunk of its health, and after Albedo came down with his plunging attack to pierce a wing to the carpet, Ace pinned it down with a few well-placed arrows. Unable to position its wings and eyes properly, it could only unleash a smattering of pink rays, and in a fairly predictable manner to boot. Band suspected that the team wouldn’t have any trouble even if Red abstained from the end of the fight to make sure all the citizens he’d wielded were okay. He stepped forward, brass knuckles clenched, to shut this demonic songbird up for good.

Albedo held out a hand. “Wait. Just a minute.” Amidst the demon’s shrill cries, the alchemist tentatively stepped forward, avoiding the magic laser bolts. With narrowed eyes he fixed his elemental sight on the demon’s torso.

After a second, Band raised his eyebrow. “...Son. Surely you ain’t.”

“There’s something strange in there. Something inconsistent.” Rather than impale Artemis through center mass with his Cinnabar Spindle like he originally intended, Albedo used his sword like a saw to make a shallow slice. Artemis squealed, and sky-blue blood flowed from the wound, but as it opened up and the light seeped in Band could see for an all-too-brief moment moment a familiar countenance.

Startled, he instinctively backed away. “Sierra!? What the funk? Did it eat her or somethin’?”

“No,” Albedo murmured, his voice hard. “I think…”

At that moment a handful of lasers shot in from the side, striking the heroes with the guards down. Wincing, Albedo dashed away from the demon’s body and looked up to see a few of its turret pods, which had followed Artemis down from the original battlefield. The demon tore free of Ace’s arrows and floated up into the air, blasting out lasers indiscriminately to get its opponents away. Then the Noumenon seemed to darken as it rose higher still, except for a column of radiance like a theater spotlight around Artemis.

“That can’t be good,” Band grunted. “Look, y’all. The girl ain’t dust, so she’s still alive in there. That means we gotta take this down without hurtin’ her inside!” Artemis began to sing, its voice and the red glow of all its down-ward facing eyes growing louder as it made its last-ditch effort to let loose its ultimate attack. “And from the looks of it, we don’t got much time. Move those feet!” Albedo created a Solar Isotoma to elevate one person into the air in pursuit, and Band crashed one metal fist into his palm, preparing to take flight with Timpani Drive.

World of Light

(Disregard)

World of Light

Sector 7 Highway

Level 3 Goldlewis (22/30)
Goldlewis, Roxas’ @Double, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 686

Though the disaster that had befallen the bus and almost all of its passengers left everyone shaken, the thought that there were more people they could save spurred them forward. Thanks to the Medicine Pit scrounged up Goldlewis was fighting-fit again, if not fully restored, and after he steeled himself he moved to follow in that policeman’s footsteps. Rather than go across the bus where the source of the red matter contamination once existed, he stepped over the cars on the left side of the elevated highway. Thanks to their inexplicably bouncy hoods and trunks he made good time, and in just a couple moments he and the team reached the other side of the blockage. From there they hurried past rubble and wreckage both big and small, the sounds of combat up ahead ringing in their ears. More police helicopters could be seen all around, and the Filthwings were in the air with them. Fresh knowledge of what was at stake pushed the heroes to travel all the faster.

After running around -or overtop- an overturned fire truck, the Seekers reached the impromptu evac zone. Two blue-coated officers were holding down the fort, both hurt themselves, and as many dark-blue police supply crates were on hand with first aid and energy cells. There were also four white stretchers laid on the ground with two medic drones apiece, ready to lift any injured persons into the sky for aerial insertion into one of the choppers, presumably so that they wouldn’t need to risk a hazardous landing. Goldlewis saw that one of the officers had lent a wounded firefighter his shoulder and helped him limp over to a stretcher, and once laid down in it the drones whisked it away toward an evac chopper a safe distance away from all the chaos on the highways. The cop looked at the newcomers, eying their weapons. “You…here to help? Hurry up ahead! The others are outnumbered!”

Goldlewis didn’t need to be told twice. His feet pounded the pavement as he hurried through the evac zone to the rescue in process. On the opposite side lay another pileup, used as shelter against any aberration incursions by the officers who set up here. Rather than try to squeeze through the narrow choke point, he clambered up the front of an abandoned semi, barely even feeling the heart of its burning engine, and thundered across the roof of its trailer. Down below, two officers -a heavily armored man with dreads and a spry woman with a long ponytail- were engaging a handful of aberrations. Two Filthwing archers and a Filthwing slugger accompanied three clawed hunters, two swordfighters, and a big axeling aberration with a huge cutting edge on the end of a terribly mutated arm. Goldlewis spotted the daredevil fro before running into join them as the man slid backward from a blocked axe swing, and as the woman backed up with her fists raised there was a brief lull as the three went back-to-back, nearly surrounded by aberrations. Their eyes were on the three civilians hiding around the area, saved by Galeem’s influence which demanded the aberrations fight the officers who hit them instead.

“You alright?” Atlas asked, his tone nonchalant. “We’re a man down, give us a hand.”

Juliette nodded, a brave smile on her face. “Let’s get ‘em!”

Then the monsters attacked; Juliette nimbly cartwheeled out of the way, Atlas intercepted a swordfighter with a mighty kick, and Hayato Howard opened fire on the Filthwings with his X-baton in pistol mode. No sign of any gates, so the battle was on. Goldlewis joined the battle in decisive fashion, expending the Tension he’d accumulated in the last fight to call down a satellite laser on the axeling. It didn’t deal a huge amount of damage, but it dragged the big aberration and two hunters it hit on the way toward the incoming Seekers. The veteran jumped down, coffin in hand, to help put these misbegotten monsters to rest.

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (131/110) Level 12 Poppi (21/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: N/A

From the moment the Turk set foot in this pizzeria, Giovanna figured some sort of interaction with him would be inevitable. Even if he didn’t recognize her and no word about her new allies reached the General Affairs division after that afternoon’s high-octane highway chase, the Seekers were a strange group made all the stranger by Benedict’s presence. This man might very well know the strategist personally, after all. Still, unlike the G-men who generally assumed ‘guilty until proven innocent’, their human overseers could be reasoned with. While not the best liar in the world, Giovanna figured she could throw Zenkichi off the scent and keep things under control so long as she didn’t do anything to cast her group with suspicion. In a whisper she urged Tora and Poppi to stay calm and act natural. So far, they hadn’t done anything wrong.

Sure enough, toward the end of the meal the detective decided to pay the other diners a visit. He sauntered over after sending his small retinue of G-men on their way, perhaps as a show of good faith, and he came to Giovanna’s team empty-handed. While he looked casual enough and completely unarmed, Giovanna knew better than to assume that this man didn’t have a trick up her sleeve. Lots of people could summon either weapons or additional fighters to their side in the blink of an eye, herself included. She might not know the specifics, but all General Affairs personnel were problem-solvers in their own ways. Zenkichi opened with a quick one-two punch, revealing that he not only knew Benedict, but Giovanna herself. Or he’d heard of her, at least. This man did have a clever and by-the-book look to him. He’d probably done his homework. No matter; Giovanna could handle it. Just play it cool.

“Evening, mister,” she began, lazily leaning back in her chair with an amicable smile. “Nothing too important-”

It was at that point that Benedict stole the show. Giovanna slapped her hand against her forehead. Damn it, you old fart! He’d no doubt spoken up because he thought himself best-suited to defuse any situation involving a colleague in General Affairs, but his choice of words implied -if not outright revealed- the existence of a ‘situation’ to begin with. He even assumed that the detective planned to perform an arrest, when the thought probably hadn’t crossed Zenkichi’s mind. In one fell swoop Benedict managed to turn a pretty ordinary inquiry into a standoff, making the team look suspicious if not outright criminal. Gotta salvage this…

The secret agent trampled over Benedict’s last statement with a burst of laughter. “Pff, hahaha! Oh, man.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “You’re a real card when you’re off your meds, old man! C’mon, joking around like that could get us in -real trouble-...” With her shoe she jabbed Benedict’s ankle under the table. “For -no reason-...” She kicked him again, then with a hearty sigh and roll of her eyes looked back at Zenkichi. Tora and Poppi had remained quiet the whole time, their eyes a little wider than they should be. “He called me and my friends in to help deal with some gangs in the area. Y’know, drug dealers, amateur demolitionists dressed like hockey players. I can give you the deets if you like, buuut it’s nothing too serious. Just taking out some trash. Gotta spice up my retirement somehow~”

“Speaking of…” At that point she stood, reaching over the table with her arm extended to Zenkichi to shake, making sure to lean forward enough to give him a good view as she did. “Now that your buddies are gone, why not join us for a drink? Any friend of Benedict’s is a friend of mine! Nice to meet you, Mr…?”

She hoped that by extending him an invitation, and reminding him that the G-men were waiting on him, that he’d politely decline and do the opposite. With how sketchy Benedict had been, though, she worried that it might take more than this to convince Zenkichi that nothing was amiss.

Ms Fortune

Level 10 Nadia (123/100)
Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Omori’s @Majoras End, Ganondorf’s @Double, the Knight
Level
Word Count: 1534

Result

Party: Ms Fortune, Sectonia, Jesse, Omori, Ganondorf
Extended Encounter Reward: +25 EXP
Loot: Lots of stuff. Including Tetanus, Red Plague, and Creeping Cough (everyone except Sectonia). Abusive Affliction (only Sectonia). 1 Mask Fragment. It Lives spirit (Everything not explicitly claimed was left behind)
Heaven Bonus: Therion
Heaven Reward: Faith +1
Hell Bonus: Sectonia
Hell Reward: Evil +1
Rubber Cement has appeared in the Basement!

With most of the Seekers in a sorry state, debilitated by disease and more or less emotionally destabilized by the Basement and its non-stop gallery of horrors, even a simple trip across a series of enamel stepping stones took some doing. That meant that when the team finally reached the jaw-like overlook on the other side of the bloody whirlpool and found no way to open it, everyone could only flounder in beleaguered disbelief. Its thick chitinous surface would not even begin to yield to the meager strength they still possessed, and no mechanism for controlling it could be found nearby.

Nadia sank to the fleshy ground, her breathing throat ragged from labored breathing. “No furrykin’ way,” she groaned. “We came all this way and it’s closed!?” She glanced over her shoulder at the giant gullet behind her, her normally-perky ears flattened against her head. “Surely we’re not s’posed to…I can’t do that! Isn’t there any other way?”

For Jesse, there was. Even if this situation looked hopeless, the others could always count on her to see things differently. To her, the concentric, perpetual-motion shimmer of Polaris could be seen superimposed over the doorway. Her guiding star meant for her to pass through, and the FBC director had just the tool (or in this case, tool gun) for the job. In a flash she could no-collide the massive shell that composed most of this otherwise-insurmountable gateway, allowing the entire team to limp, lumber, and bumble through.

Once she set foot beyond the seal, Nadia felt an instant change in the air. Gone were the sticky heat and absurd humidity that made one’s sweaty skin crawl, replaced by a cool crispness. She stood in a dimly-lit tunnel of dark stone and carved carapaces, similar to the masonry found in the crossroads of the Ruins, though less purple. Gone was the inexplicable luminescence that provided perfect visibility inside the gargantuan guts of that eldritch superorganism, so only little swarms of lumaflies provided light in this place. Nadia didn’t mind one bit though. A breath of fresh air outside those infernal intestines helped pull her back from the brink; though sick and tired, she could go on a little longer. The roar of torrential blood rapids faded into the background, replaced by a more comfortable white noise that Nadia couldn’t quite identify. Slowly the team made their way through the tunnel toward a soft blue light at its end. There, their weary procession came to a brief standstill, for in front of them lay the most immense cavern that any had ever seen, and within that vast underground space lay a city–a city awash in rain.

Click for music

The city sat upon the water. A vast lake of ink-dark water covered the cavern floor, and from it rose countless blue-black buildings of stone, shell, and steel. Great towers reached high into the air, their exteriors dotted with ovular windows of gleaming blue glass, but only the biggest one even got close to the cavern’s roof. From multitudinous unseen cracks in that vaulted ceiling issued the seemingly inexhaustible water that formed the city’s constant downpour, which fell in buckets upon every inch of this place. Intricate wrought iron lined every rooftop, bridge, and canal, forming fences, lampposts, signs, spires, and more. Sailboats crafted from what could only be gigantic sheets of newspaper sailed the city’s waterways in unaided perpetuity. Since the tunnel emptied out onto a small dock and there seemed to be no other way off that didn’t involve swimming, the Seekers waited for one of the paper boats to arrive, boarded it, and rode across the water toward the heart of the city.

Nadia laid flat on the boat near the prow, her eyes closed as the rain fell upon her. The gunge and drek of the nightmarish dungeon, and all that tension and terror, were all washed away, leaving the feral drenched but centered and clean. The water felt pure and wonderful, bringing her momentarily back to the beach from yesterday, and that short but sublime moment when all her worries and cares floated away into the ocean blue. While this cleansing rinse wouldn’t cure her sickness, she felt a lot better.

After a couple minutes spent sailing through the deluge, the paper boat reached the city center, ringed by buildings, where it slid smoothly from the bay into a stone-walled canal. Nadia sat up, looking around. While she couldn’t get a grasp of the city’s exact layout from here, she could really get a feel for its vastness, and its hauntingly beautiful bug-gothic architecture. It wasn’t abandoned, either. She could see a number of citizens around, almost all of them non-human, whether bugs or monsters. On the edge of this canal sat a bug in the rain, drumming his feet, and for a moment he and Nadia made eye contact. He waved as she passed by, and she waved back. A number of ring-tipped poles protruded from the water, and the boat gently nudged them as it made its way toward a central plaza. When the moment came Nadia hauled herself up and hopped onto a little dock. Nice as the rain had been, she was beginning to get cold. Colder, anyway. Shaky on her feet, she plodded up a handful of stairs to the plaza itself. More bugs milled around the wide-open circular space, holding umbrellas as they traveled through the rain and lumafly lamplight. At the plaza’s very center stood a tall fountain, and atop it stood a big statue of a crown-wearing child.

Nadia stood and stared for a moment in muted wonderment, not really sure where to go from here. The blue windows that surrounded this spot felt like eyes staring down at her. Shivering, she took a look around, her gaze naturally drawn to the lights around the plaza. Most were cast by ornate street lamps, but she also found a lantern inside a sort of gazebo that stood on an adjoining promontory from the plaza, and in its glow she spotted someone familiar. With a start she realized exactly who she was looking at. “Wait, Cornifer!?” Utterly bewildered by his appearance here, she darted off through the rain as fast as her leaden legs would let her, and into the shelter of the gazebo. “Cornifer! Hey” she repeated, greeting him. “Weren’t you just in the Ruins? How…” She broke down into a brief fit of coughing, then resumed speaking in a hoarse voice. “How did you get here before us? We were going a million miles an hour downstream through giant monster guts!”

Cornifer chuckled. “Trade secret, hmhmhm!” He looked around the Seekers. “It must be your first time here. Welcome to the illustrious Home of Tears! I’d happily sell you a map, but…” The bug’s brows knit together as he beheld the sorry state of his acquaintances, and he rubbed his proboscis in worriment. “Dear me, you all look terrible!”

“We feel terrible,” Nadia told him, smiling weakly.

“You should get to the Sanitarium straight away then! The Under is home to many maladies that are not to be taken lightly! Here.” Cornifer dug in his bag for a moment, then offered the group a map. “You can pay me back later. The city is divided into four districts, all accessible by bridge from Fountain Central.” One at a time he quickly pointed out different parts of the map. “The Sanitarium is in Downtown, where most ordinary folks live.” He pointed to the southern part of the city. “Over there is the Collection, home to the city’s markets and factories.” He indicated a sprawling harbor district of books and paper to the west, over which the letters blotted from the pages of history by never-ending rain floated like bygone memories. “Here is the Amusement Park, the city’s humble entertainment district. The Grimm Troupe is performing there, so pay it a visit once you’re well, it’s sure to lift your spirits!” He pointed out the brilliant carnival lights to the east. “And the Royal Quarter, where Consul P rules over all from the great Gallo Tower.” He indicated the northern part of the city, where enormous high-class buildings bathed in pink light crowded around the foot of the city’s massive clock tower. “Careful not to run afoul of that young fellow while you’re here, he’s got quite the temper! Now hurry, and get well soon!”

Nadia sighed. According to the clock tower it was quarter after seven, and the team could barely lift a finger. Anything to do with a Consul sounded like a problem for later. It was past time for an evening of rest, relaxation, and healing. “Nyeah, okay. Thanks, Cornifer!”

Persona ~ Alone at Sea (PERSONA WITH A BOAT 𓊝)

Imogen Reed

It was too hot, even with her winter coat off. The sun beat down mercilessly on Imogen’s tender Irish skin; she could practically feel it crackling into burnt red pork rind. Of course, her getting heated in a metaphorical way didn’t help either. Between the confusion, stress, and fiery anger she felt like her brain was melting. All around, barring Frankie, most of the others seemed nonplussed. They offered one another encouragement, and in Victor’s case, condescension. For a moment Imogen gawped at him. Had she gone insane? Was her reaction really so strange? She wanted to find somewhere dark and alone, away from these tranquil lunatics and that damnable scorching sun. More than anything she wanted to wash her face, to scrub the heat and coarse sand and emotion from her features to render her as clean and presentable as always.

Unfortunately, this beach offered neither shade nor solitude, and the water did not look okay in the slightest. So Imogen moved to the next entry on the list of things that might make her feel better.

“Don’t you recite all that rubbish at me!” Imogen snapped at Victor. “Oh, it’s ‘sink or swim’ is it? How about ‘we’re all in this together’ or ‘where there’s a will there’s a way’ while you’re at it? Just sayin’ the things they say in movies when it all goes to shit isn’t gonna magically make everythin’ okay!” If she could see it properly, Imogen would have pointed out the island’s opposite shore on the other side of the trees at this point, reminding the others just how small this place really was. “Get ourselves out of this situation? Hah, come off it! We’re totally at the mercy of whatever stranded us here. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about…”

At that point, Sofia flared up again like a bad rash, awakening with almost comical speed in total ignorance of the headwound she gave Daniel in the process. Perhaps an avid watcher of survival island shows, she straightaway began assigning people tasks, which at the moment meant sending most of the boys to find the weird girl who left earlier. For her part Imogen didn’t know who in their right mind would give this dumbass the time of day, considering what her dogged insistence on her social experiments had gotten them. She did not expect that Sofia’s pretension of leadership meant that the other girl would see Imogen’s breakdown as a problem to solve. In trying to solve it, Sofia immediately made one of the classical blunders: telling an angry person to calm down.

For a moment though, it actually seemed like it worked. With her eyes fixed on Sofia, Imogen inhaled deeply through her nose, filling her lungs to their maximum capacity. Then she let it out.

“AND WHAT PART OF ALL THIS IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME CALM YOU FOCKIN’ EEJIT!?” she yelled with her eyes squeezed shut and her hands clenched into fists, quickly going red in the face. “What d’you mean survival? We’re stuck here! There’s nothin’ we can do! Might as well keel over and get it over with! Who the hell died and made you the boss anyway, huh? You’re the reason we’re in this mess to begin with! This whole bloody stupid Icebreaker shtick, read the damn room! Didja think we’d all just play nice and be friends? Maybe getcha some extra credit? You miserable-”

At that point, Maive’s bawling reached such a fever pitch that Imogen noticed it, and it stopped her train of thought in its tracks. She opened her eyes and whirled around to face the source, only to stagger and nearly fall down herself. All that yelling had made her lightheaded again, and in a flash the energy she’d put into being angry drained right out of her. In its place came a surge of guilt, propelled straight to her heart by the sight of Maive crying her eyes out. All of a sudden Imogen felt terrible. More terrible than before, anyway, which was saying something. Even if she did catalyze this bizarre turn of events, Maive almost certainly hadn’t meant to, and she’d been confronted with the exact same nightmare scenario as Imogen, only without the wherewithal to take it out on anyone else. Plus, now that Imogen had made someone cry, she probably looked like a massive jerk. If she didn’t already. Despite all her pent-up anger, Imogen never wanted or intended to be a bully. The thought that she’d hurt someone else undeservedly never even showed up on her radar. What an absolute mess.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, taking an unsteady step away from Maive like she’d just dropped and shattered some fine china. “I didn’t…didn’t mean to…” Her leg wobbled out from beneath her and she sank into a sitting position, her head swimming. “Damn it,” she gasped, holding her head. “Why me…?”

World of Light

The Ruins - Dripstone Cave

Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose’s @Yankee, Rubick’s @Scarifar, Teemo’s @Bugman

Working together, Rubick and the Koopa Troop managed to put a quick end to what might have otherwise been a horrific outbreak. Though small enough to be on the more difficult side to hit, the Lightseeds possessed no survivability to speak of, and all popped into squirts of lambent orange juice with just one hit. Kamek’s quick thinking and magical prowess secured the foolish Migospel out of harm’s way as well, ensuring that the carriers couldn’t spread their infectious payloads. Without a living host or a thick membrane to keep it safe, the plague died out soon after its vectors did. The Ruins would be safe from infection a little longer.

“By the Queen, that was close!” With a sigh of relief Barnabee seated himself on a nearby rock, laying his splendid saw-toothed sword across his lap. “I must commend thou for acting in such haste despite thy ignorance. Any slower and the Infection would have surely spread.” The Hive Knight shook his head, his fuzzy face solemn. “It is a most virulent sickness. It creeps through the mind and body, radiant and alluring. Bugs seduced by its warm glow become mere mindless husks, puppeted by the corruption inside. All with their wits about them fear that orange luster, and guard closely against its spread. That light is nothing compared to the majesty of Her Majesty, of course!” He scratched his head, eyes narrowed. “Still. That a carrier would appear so close to the surface…I fear it bodes ill.”

He, Bowser, Junior, Kamek, Rika, and Rubick split into three teams of two for a careful look around the Dripstone Cave. Teemo lent his exploratory talents to the cause as well, perhaps as thanks for the rescue. If any other morsels of Infection managed to make their way here, they too needed to be extinguished. Fortunately, it seemed as if the plague-ridden Migospel had been a strange anomaly. Though the heroes circumnavigated the poisonous pools and skirted around the dangerously industrious Goams, no more traces of that infamous malady presented themselves. After a little over five minutes Primrose returned from her expedition to the Ancestral Mound, subtly foul-smelling but none the worse for wear. The others gathered around and received her news: despite this cavern looking like massive dead end for anyone not suicidal enough to brave the Goam burrows, there was a way out, invisible to the naked eye.

At the dancer’s prompting the team headed for the chamber’s swampy southern reaches. Even with the local mega-mosquito population culled, this subterranean mire was plenty inhospitable, being positively festooned with fungus, lily pads, and twisted tree roots. In one corner, however, lay the trunk of an enormous tree that in all likelihood extended from well beneath the floor to high above the ceiling, and one of its roots bent down into the swamp like a big, curved ramp. Flight, agility, or plain-old gumption would see the team to the root, which brought them to a slight promontory against the trunk where they found a patch of bark lighter brown than its surroundings. This, according to the Snail Shaman, was the secret passage the Seekers sought. Anyone who tried to touch it would instead put their hands straight through the bark as if it wasn’t there, dispelling the illusory wall in the process. Beyond lay a tunnel, dark but short, and at the end lay a chest.

Within the chest any prospective looter would find a bundle of rare Gorajian Mushrooms, which despite looking dangerous would heal ten percent of one’s maximum life when eaten, but that did little to distract the heroes from the fact that this dead-end tunnel didn’t exactly seem like a secret passage. Once the cleverest amongst them realized that the wall behind the chest looked just like the wall they dispelled earlier, however, an experimental touch would reveal that it was indeed another illusory wall, and behind this one lay the Great Hollow.

Though only a few dozen yards in diameter, this secret area extended a remarkable distance both upward and downward. The sight of what appeared to be daylight illuminating the whole area might draw the eye upward, but that dappled light filtered through an impenetrable mass of undisturbed thorny branches, so the only possible path taken by their allies had to be downward. Yet that route looked almost as treacherous, composed entirely of winding and in some cases very thin branches. To make matters worse, a number of mushroom people and reptilian basilisks. Even for those possessed of flight, it would be slow and tricky going to reach the exit at the very bottom. At the very least, there seemed to be the telltale glint of a handful of items along the way, ripe for the taking.

Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Noumenon

Level 8 Big Band (46/80)
Ace Cadet’s @Yankee, Frisk’s @Majoras End, Red’s @TruthHurts22
Word Count: 621

As crisis befell the grand library’s twenty-seventh floor, and the threat of the floor falling out beneath the heroes slipped closer and closer to a guarantee, Red made a split-second decision. The squat superhero took the trapped civilians he’d been attempting to evacuate into his own hands, or more accurately, sword. One and all were pulled into the relative safety of his Unite Morph, then immediately turned to face the luminous pink laser Artemis swept across the battlefield, a dangerous gambit in mind. His teammates scrambled to react, with Ace whipping out his handy clutch claw to grapple out of harm’s way. Frisk didn’t manage quite so well, however, and took a blast that sent her flying toward the edge. Stunned and smoking, it was all she could do to seize a broken railing and hold on for dear life as she dangled over a twenty-seven story drop.

“Frisk!” Sore and aching but still in the fight, Band dragged himself out of the bookcase he’d been slammed into, covered with dust and scraps of paper. He shook himself off and booked it back towards the heavily-damaged floor’s suspended central area. The bridge he slid across, already groaning under twice the burden it would usually be asked to bear, shuddered under his weight, but the detective had no choice. He clenched his teeth and soldiered on.

At the same time, Red made his stand. Though the destructive power of the demon’s brilliant beam turned chairs to splinters in an instant, annihilated candelabras, and burned books to cinders, Red’s giant swordblade managed to not just deflect it, but shine a light on Artemis herself. The reflected beam cut her swath of destruction short, and she reeled back with a shrill cry. Before she could compose herself, Ace lent some fireworks of his own to the mix. Flash bomb? As the projectile hurtled toward Artemis, Band averted his eyes just a fraction of a second too late, The bomb burst against the demon’s body, and as one might expect, an eye-searing coruscation ensued, and though Band felt like his retinas were on fire, Artemis got the worst of it by far. The flash bombs used by Monster Hunters were no mere parlor tricks; their agonizing radiance could send even fearsome dragons on the wing into helpless free fall. With or without the wings and voice of an angel, this demon was no different.

With a harrowing scream Artemis dropped like a brick. She hurtled downward, striking one of the bridges on the twenty-sixth floor one story down, and proceeded to plummet all the way to the bottom.

“Music to my ears,” Band chuckled with a shake of his head, still in disbelief that the flash bomb worked so well. He extended a mechanical arm and pulled Frisk up as if she weighed nothing at all. The detective then doffed his hat to the Cadet. “Hell of a light show, Ace! I bet that thing ain’t feelin’ too hot after a fall like that. Whaddya say we head on down and finish the job, folks?” So saying, he put a pincer on his head to keep his hat from flying off and leaped from his rickety precipice. Between his rockets and his shock absorbers he didn’t need to worry about fall damage, which meant he could focus on dealing this demon a reckoning from on high. As he hurtled after Artemis he deployed both brass knuckles so he’d come down on the fallen angel with a colossal double-fisted slam.

Surprisingly, Albedo followed right behind him, jumping out into empty space to descend at terminal velocity. For someone who could reset fall speed with a plunging attack, of course, no height was too high.

World of Light

Weekly update made. Tomorrow will see the beginning of three collabs for the coming week: OSF Training for myself, Zoey's Sakura, and Truth's Raz, Hot Pursuit for myself, Zoey's Karin, Draco's Midna, Double's Roxas, and Yankee's Pit, and As Above - So Below for the team that's been doing the Binding of Isaac dungeons.

World of Light

Suoh

Sector 3 Upper
Level 3 Goldlewis (10/30)
Goldlewis, Peach, Raz’s @Truthhurts22, Roxas’ @Double, Sakura and Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 1528

In the end, everyone had a good meal, though in truth Peach couldn’t call it an excellent one. She remembered her team’s excellent dinner at Rum for Ale just last night, and how wonderful a time that had been. It capped off a day of much-needed rest and relaxation in safety and tranquility of the Deep Blue Seaside’s tropical paradise, and it hadn’t just been the delicious Cuban cuisine that delighted her. The atmosphere of camaraderie that existed during that meal one day prior had been something she knew she’d treasure for a while. She’d both gotten more familiar with people she’d been fighting alongside for the better part of a week like Geralt and Sakura, and gotten the chance to forge a new friendship with the likes of Karin and Rubick. Even if the departure of fire-forged comrades like Link and Mirage made that night a touch bittersweet, an evening like that would be a rare treat.

In contrast, she couldn’t afford to relax during her stay at Musubi’s, and when the princess stepped outside into the cool of a technicolor Suoh night she felt both invigorated and alert. She was here not to make friends but an ally, and prioritized intelligence over anecdotes. Plus, the night’s festivities were hardly over. The groundwork had been laid, and now was the time to act.

After paying the checks the gang had been obliged to clear the way quickly for the next round of eager customers, and now stood at the edge of the parking lot outside. With the sun set over Midgar, Peach could see a Suoh lit even more brilliantly by Visions that it had been during the day. In addition to the various advertisements and news, a number of purely aesthetic Visions had come online after nightfall to contrast their dazzling colors against the dark sky. Atop the hydroponics facility bloomed a lush holographic forest, with leafy vines trailing down all across the building where make-believe birds perched and pretend koalas climbed. Many-tailed kitsune frolicked and spirits flickered around Sumeragi Tomb, weaving among the trees. Perhaps most splendid were the Visions that danced around the Otherlobe all the way down on the other end of Main Street. The giant brain at the building’s zenith hummed with streaking sparks as if in the midst of a massive brainstorm, its motes of light flying off to burst like fireworks in all manner of different shapes.

“Thank you all for joining me this evening,” Luka began. “I’m glad it seems like we all got to know one another better.”

“O-of course,” Peach stammered, trying to tune out all the pretty lights. “It was a great time, and you were very helpful.”

Luka smiled. “If you’re going to be staying in Suoh, you should all come and work out with me sometime. There’s no better place for strength training than Anistar Gym.”

Stroking his whiskers, Goldlewis replied, “I reckon I just might. For tonight though, we’re headed back to Sector 7. Well, those of us not headed to Psych-OSF HQ, that is.”

“I wish you a safe journey.” Luka crossed his arms, glancing at Sakura, Peach, and Raz. “Oh, but since I’m going there myself, why don’t I teleport you? No time to waste, right?”

“That would be wonderful! You’re too kind,” Peach thanked him, grateful that his offer meant nobody in her team would have to ask themselves. Any way in with a Psych-OSF veteran was bound to be smoother than a walk in the front door.”

Luka nodded. “Let’s go then.” One by one, he warped away with the three aspiring cadets. As he prepared to leave with Raz, he waved to the others. “Good night!” Then he was gone.

Goldlewis sniffed. “That went well.” After checking his watch, he pulled his keys from his pocket and began to head toward his hummer. “We’d better get goin’ as well. Don’t wanna be travelin’ cross-plate after curfew.”

---

With the group dwindled down to Midna, Pit, Roxas, Sakura, and Goldlewis as the driver, everyone could enjoy a whole lot more room inside the Patriot Mammoth than before as they retraced the path they’d taken earlier that afternoon. On the way Goldlewis informed them of what he’d gotten up to when everyone split up, which included a rather significant detail that concerned their operations in Midgar as a whole. While serviceable in its own right, the office floor currently occupied by the SOU wouldn’t work as well for the Seekers in light of their mission in Midgar. Not only was it under-equipped, its position in a sleepy Sector 7 borough meant that it was pretty far from anything important. In addition to not being on Midgar’s ‘pulse’, it existed in a well-kept area with few options if things ever went south.

All this informed the veteran’s decision to procure a new base of operations for the team, one not only a lot closer to both Psych-OSF and the Shinra Building, but almost completely off the grid as well. The transaction would be finalized and they could move into their new base in Seiran around lunchtime tomorrow, but until then they would have to make use of the SOU office. To facilitate this Goldlewis planned to stop by a Sector 7 department store on the way back for the team to buy sleeping bags, as well as whatever else they’d need to settle down in Midgar for as long as they needed to.

After explaining all this Goldlewis asked for silence in order to call Giovanna, which he did with the aid of a magic communication glyph he summoned on his ear. From their brief exchange he learned that the Detroit team was already on its way back as well, so everyone save the Psych-OSF recruits would be reunited in short order. Giovanna spared her associate the details, but it sounded like her crew had seen some action down in Detroit, so they’d have a lot to catch up on. It was about eight-thirty.

During and after the phone call, the other Seekers got a chance to talk in private and among themselves about what they’d seen and learned that day, their thoughts, and what to do about it. Out of the reach of visual and auditory surveillance, this ride offered a great chance to share information and make plans. Regardless of their individual conclusions, all could agree that things would probably be complicated and risky going forward. There were a lot of pieces on the board.

The conversation came to an and, however, as an array of lights came into view down the road. Traffic slowed, then stopped completely. Up ahead the team could see the red-and-blue flashing lights that denoted police activity glaring off the insides of the tunnel ahead, and with the right angle hastily-erected roadblocks came into view. There seemed to be a mixture of standard policemen around in royal blue jackets and white helmets, and then rank-and-file OSF troopers kitted out for Suoh perimeter defense. “This road is closed!” They were yelling. “Multiple gate openings have been reported on the other side of this tunnel! Keep calm and evacuate the area in an orderly fashion!”

Cars were merging into a single lane to pass through an opening in the highway divider and go the opposite way, but the process was excruciatingly slow. Goldlewis slapped his knee in frustration. “Consarn it all, looks like the damn road’s closed. Gonna have to turn back and find another way a-!”

VROOOOOOOOO! went the engine of a sleek white police motorcycle as it zoomed off an elevated rollway to fly through the air. It landed in the road ahead and slid sideways to a stop, giving the surprised onlookers the briefest of looks at a young daredevil officer before he kicked his cycle back into gear and shot off toward the tunnel, ramping off one of the roadblocks. A mere moment later, a handful of devilish creatures flew down after him in pursuit. Possessing only rudimentary wings, the crystal-pierced monsters floated through the air surrounded by red, pixelated particles, and though humanoid in appearance the red-eyed chasers were overgrown with chitinous corruption, with arms like organic crossbows.

“W-what in tarnation!?” Goldlewis could barely process all this before a lime-and-gray semitruck with the phrase ‘P.S.L. Line Megacarrier’ emblazoned on one side thundered through the opposite lane in the same direction, laden with more monsters and swerving dangerously. It smashed straight through the police barricade in a hail of gunfire from the OSF troopers, then roared through the tunnel after the motorcycle. As the peacekeepers called for backup, Goldlewis grit his teeth. “Damn it, we’ve gotta help!” A moment later his hummer burst through the highway’s center line, and with no time to waste the Seekers sped down the trail blazed for them by whatever these new enemies might be.

Detroit

Sector 8 Lower
Level 11 Tora (131/110) Level 12 Poppi (21/120)
Susie and Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man, Benedict’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 2006

With no concrete plan in mind and only a vague directive to explore the surrounding area, the team of eight tentatively split up to peruse the Detroit undercity center. After one last look around the statue plaza with its political posters and unusual stone depression, Tora and Poppi headed up the street in the opposite direction of the Bunker, while Giovanna set her sights on that very building. After her words to the wise about Public Security (not to mention his revelation about Galeem) the secret agent wanted to believe that Benedict wouldn’t double-cross the Seekers, but in intelligence work one couldn’t afford to take chances on blind trust. Since her wolf spirit Rei could only travel so far away from her host, Giovanna insisted on the silver-haired strategist’s accompaniment as she advanced to scout out the massive and imposing DespORHado HQ. At the same time she noticed as Raiden slipped away into the city, which was less than ideal. Despite his comrades’ insistence that he not act on his vehement desire to take his old enemies to task, he’d been delivered their home base on a silver platter. Much to her chagrin, Giovanna could only hope he wouldn’t do anything reckless. Maybe his fusion with that Hoodlum Dolls goon changed him more than any of them thought.

Giovanna didn’t expect even discreet surveillance of one of Midgar’s most powerful factions to be easy, but as she and Benedict approached things quickly got bleaker still. Despite her casual demeanor she always kept at least one sky-blue eye out for trouble at all times, and the closer to the Bunker the two former administration agents got, the more androids she spotted. Gradually she became aware of an entire perimeter of doll-like guards hidden around the block in unlikely spots, of which the sentries at the bulky building’s door were only the most visible part. Add in the cyborg patrols and this whole area looked a lot like one big, carefully-placed noose, just waiting for any enemies to come along and hang themselves in it. Impressed by the level of security, she couldn’t help but whistle. While she didn’t have any criminal activities in mind that might warrant their attention, she could do without any extra suspicion, and elected to give the Bunker’s block an extra wide berth. Instead she led Benedict into a nearby bookstore, the Time Machine. Inside she found an elegantly antiquated interior, all dark wood and patterned lampshades and plush sofas, offering a atmosphere that Giovanna felt must be both very rare and charming in the acrid neon landscape of Detroit. Before she could head up to the second floor to peer out the windows she needed to act natural, after spotting a female employee at the front desk by the name of Lucina Horal the secret agent headed over for a chat.

Meanwhile, Tora and Poppi set out on their own for a second time. Compared to the more run-down part of this sector by Quarantine Valley that housed that haunting solid waste landfill, this area seemed a lot shinier, but the smells of oil, sweat, and exhaust pervaded it just as thoroughly. The Nopon’s nose stayed wrinkled practically the whole time he spent waddling around, and Poppi considered turning her olfactory sensors off as well. More than anything, this place just seemed inhospitable, both in terms of the populace and the environment itself, even in comparison to the other otherworld cities the two had seen so far. Alcamoth had been futuristic and awe-inspiring, maybe a little sterile, but wide-open and accommodating. Al Mamoon, while uncomfortably hot and busy at times, pulsed with a vibrant vitality even in the midst of its terrorist crisis. Though smaller than the others, Tostarena Town left quite an impression just with how colorful and fun it had been, and Radlandia had a weird but wonderful flavor all its own. Nyakuza Metro came closer than any of the others to the feeling of Detroit, but it boasted a certain sense of unity and charm. This was raw, gritty, and almost completely alien to Tora and Poppi both. A little overwhelmed, they just didn’t know what to make of it, or where to even begin when it came to scrounging up useful information.

So after a little while, they ended up inside Yoshida Batting Center. A couple busts on the way here left Tora a bit disheartened, but when he realized that this establishment hosted an entertaining minigame with prizes available for high scorers, the Nopon was all ears. Together the two spent some money to try their luck at bat, and though Tora’s physique was in every way at odds with the mechanics of baseball, he enjoyed swinging the bat around. He knew he could rely on Poppi’s powerful, precision engineering to score big, and his companion did not disappoint. She racked up the points with a whole host of home runs, then at her Masterpon’s urging exchanged a thousand for the Expert Bat to earn fifty percent more points on her tear through the Superhuman Challenge. In the end she hoarded enough points to cash in on Toughness Z medicine, a Luxury First Aid Kit, a hammer called the Star Crusher for Tora, and an anklet said to be used by fighting breakdancers for Poppi. Of course, the disgruntled manager then kicked them out and forbade them from returning, resentful of a machine that could make a mockery of the Batting Center’s challenges so easily.

“Meh-meh!” Tora complained as the two picked themselves up outside. “Crabbypons just jealous of Poppi incredible skill!”

After patting the dust off her creator, Poppi put her fists on her hips proudly. “If they let artificial people play in the first place, the average engineer around here must be a lot worse than Masterpon!”

“Meheheh. Even in city of machines, there no finer feat of engineering than Poppi!” Tora turned his smug expression on the Detroit city streets, full of people working so hard yet achieving so little. Then he scratched his chin. ”It occur to Tora that there big untapped market for using Poppi to clean out prizes.“

Poppi nudged him, pointing between the buildings toward the sunlight beyond the shade of the Sector 8 Plate, already starting to go orange. “You should think about scamming people later. We wasted so much time there it’s already dinnertime! Let’s go!”

Always happy for a meal, Tora agreed straightaway, and the two prepared to head to the Seekers’ designated meetup spot. Before they could make any progress, however, a couple soldiers came to a stop in front of them: a grizzled-looking man with a faintly amused expression, a bald-headed powerhouse with bulging muscles, and a white-plated robot with a red bandana. All were armed, which gave Tora and Poppi pause, but they lacked both the red-black livery of DespoRHado and any overt hostility. “Hey there,” the first man greeted them. “Don’t mean to stop you on your way to dinner, but it sounded like you’re someone who knows a thing or two about machines, so I was wondering if we could ask you something.”

Pleased to have his mastery recognized, Tora flapped his wings. “That Tora all right! How can help?” Poppi, meanwhile, facepalmed at the obvious use of flattery.

The soldier replied with a smile. “That’s great. I’m Daniel Marshall, and my friends here are Roy Boateng and Cain.”

“Bonjour,” the robot greeted, speaking with a pronounced French accent.

The big man cracked a grin at the little Nopon. “Evenin’. Most folks call me Big Bo.”

“We’re here looking for a special kind of machine.” Marshall produced a photo and handed it to Tora, who looked at it with Poppi. Despite the filter and blurriness, they could recognize what they were looking at, which left Tora confused.

“But this not machine,” he remarked “It just some woman, meh.”

Bo shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s a Hollow Child. It’s a Machine that looks just like a human, and not only that, it’s programmed to think it’s one, too. Only way to tell is if you get beneath the skin. The Machines outside the city have been makin’ ‘em and sendin’ ‘em in as spies. We think this one got its hands on some classified intel and is tryin’ to make its escape outside, but got wounded in the process.”

“Which is why we’re asking you, not just as an expert but also as an inhuman who couldn’t possibly be a Hollow Child yourself,” the first man continued. “Have you seen this Machine?” Tora and Poppi shook their heads, and the soldier sighed. They must have been asking around for a while already, Poppi guessed. Marshall accepted the photo back in trade for what looked like a business card. “Unfortunate, but not surprising. Keep an eye out, and if you do see anything, please let us know.” The three continued on their way in a hurry, and left the dynamic duo to go on theirs.

A few minutes later, Tora and Poppi arrived at their destination: the aptly-named Detroit Pizzeria. It was about six o’clock by Poppi’s guess, and it looked like the others had already arrived. After a quick word to the people up front the two made their way to the table at the back where Giovanna was sitting. The secret agent flashed an apologetic expression at Susie, Poppi, and Blazermate. “Sorry to drag you three here when you can’t even eat, but if there’s one good thing about this undercity, it’s the pizza. Seeing as it’s about that time anyway I figured we might as well grab a bite now instead of when we get back to Sector 7.”

“It’s fine,” Poppi assured her. “Even if I can’t eat, my olfactory sensors are so fine-tuned I can enjoy good food almost as much as anyone else.” She glanced at Tora, who’d already started salivating at the smell of baked cheese and pepperoni, and smiled. “Not nearly as much as Masterpon, of course.”

Everyone sat down, and the staff wasted no time at all taking their orders. It looked like they were gearing up for the dinner rush, and trying to make sure as few blockages were in the way as possible. With a good idea of what sort of demand they’d get, the chefs had already been making different kinds of deep-dish pizza, so barely any time passed before the Seekers got what they ordered, too. This wasn’t about to be a protracted affair.

Of course, that just meant Tora had to stuff himself with steaming, savory goodness that much faster. As he and the other organics feasted, other people came and went from the pizzeria, but at one point a few unusual guests darkened the place’s doorstep. Tora glanced over to see a handful of G-men, causing him to freeze with his cheeks full like a hamster. Pocketing their various ‘disguises’ in a weary manner, the G-men made their way to a corner table in the back, and as they passed a startled Tora watched with the sole human bringing up the rear. He was a suit-wearing, spectacled man with neck-length black hair and a sharp goatee, his expression one of veiled curiosity aimed at Benedict. Tora swallowed slowly, and the fellow went by without a word to sit with his ’men’.

Benedict might recognize the man as an associate of his in General Affairs, and maybe the closest thing he could call to a friend in that organization–Detective Zenkichi Hasegawa. To Giovanna, however, he was just another Turk. “Keep quiet and act natural,” she hissed, not needing to say aloud that this man wasn’t someone to trifle with.