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.
Given everything that happened, and the intimidating abundance of unknowns in play in this world, Lewa was naturally a bit wary when he ventured into the woods alongside his new acquaintance. Still, as alien as this world was to him, the forest was where he belonged, and where he’d feel as comfortable as he was going to get. Humans, churches, children, and warfare were things he didn’t get, but trees, shrubs, and grass he knew. They weren’t so different from those of his island home, really. A little boring, maybe, but after the constant excitement that had gotten his heartlight pounding ever since he first set foot in this weird world, he felt pretty happy about a little peace.
When Rayne caught up with them, Lewa was glad for the extra company. Six eyes were better than four, and if they decided to split up they could cover more ground. That said, Lewa didn’t want to leave the human alone. He wielded no weapons and made no mention of any abilities, so it seemed like he needed someone to fend for him. Even if the Raven Heralds were really gone, it would be a real tragedy if he succumbed to an unfortunate encounter with a stray rahi.
At the outset Lewa allowed the human to call for his loved one alone, but when his voice started to weaken and fat droplets of rain began to instill a sense of urgency, Lewa picked up the slack. “Elaaaaaaaaaaaaine!” he called out, echoing his companion’s call. The name felt unfamiliar on his voicebox. “Elaaaaaaine! Everyone’s happy-safe, come on home!” No family members appeared from the underbrush, though, and the rainfall steadily increased. Lewa’s spirits went undiminished–this seemed to be a large forest, after all, and if he were a helpless little organic he probably would’ve run for the hills as well. He could go for hours, if need be. If it was for the sake of others, a hero left no stone unturned. Still, despite the very different methods of self-expression, he got the feeling that the other half of the search party didn’t share his optimism. The poor fellow had seen a lot more violence and death than Lewa had, and those sights no doubt hit him a lot harder than they did the toa.
“Your ‘family’. Could you tell me more about them?” He asked suddenly. Though mostly for his own benefit, this line of inquiry might be useful for the human as well, distracting him from his dread and despair. “What they look like, for one. So I know them when I find-see them!”
Rayne, meanwhile, lost hope more quickly than Lewa expected. Eventually she aired out her doubts, and Lewa couldn’t help but be a little convinced. Without the villager around, he and Rayne could search much faster and not have to worry about him. But that didn’t take into account the man’s feelings. Having come all this way, and been willing to do it alone, would he really trust these strangers with the fate of his family? Would his family even be willing to interact with said strangers? Lewa remembered how the other villagers looked at him, even as he tried to help. This wasn’t his decision to make.
Party: Goldlewis, Sandalphon, Blazermate, Roland, and Susie, Karin, Geralt and Zenkichi Encounters Reward: +20 EXP
Arahabaki - Big Money
Level 6 Goldlewis (128/60) Susie’s @Archmage MC Word Count: 2081
With the alarm sounded, Goldlewis knew that his time was limited. He wanted to think that Shinra would be too preoccupied with countermeasures for the imminent Machine invasion to dedicate anything more than a token force to the defense of Arahabaki, but if he’d learned anything over the last few days, it was just how heartless Midgar’s governing body could be. Now that Vandelay had been gutted, Neuron put on ice, and Psych-OSF split into halves, would Shinra really spread Peace Preservation and General affairs out to defend the city -especially the undercities, which would be the first in the Machines’ line of fire- or would they rather concentrate their remaining troops to protect their seat of power? Goldlewis felt dismally confident in his expectation that the Seekers would face much more than a skeleton crew.
He did not, however, expect the countermeasures to begin the moment he stepped into the teleporter.
“What in tarnation?” Though Goldlewis hadn’t been the first onto the teleport pad by any means, he found nobody else waiting for him when he arrived. He’d wound up on top of a module that towered above many of the others, looking out across the ceremonial artificial expanse without anyone else in sight. Confused, he continued searching until the exit pad behind him began to whir again, and a moment after he turned to look it flashed to deposit the diminutive android Susie alongside it. A moment later the device went dark, signaling that there would be no more new arrivals. “You? But where’s…?” He grit his teeth, an angry look spreading across his face as the reality of the situation dawned on him. “Dagnabbit, we’ve been hornswoggled. That teleporter doohickey musta been wired to split us up.” He headed to the edge of the platform, peering around the complicated, visually intense layout of Arahabaki’s interior. “So where in sam hill did the others wind up?”
Susie could only shrug, just as perplexed as Goldlewis. ”I assume different parts of the city. The question is if they are close by or in other sectors outright…”
After a moment, a little reassurance reached him by way of divine information. “Come in, everyone,” Sandalphon’s voice broadcasted through her personal network. “It appears that we tripped some sort of intrusion countermeasure and have been sent through a number of connected teleporter relays, effectively scattering us throughout Arahabaki. I am with Geralt, and we’re both unharmed. Please confirm your status ASAP.”
Glancing at Susie to make sure she wasn’t damaged at all, Goldlewis lifted his index and middle fingers to his ear to activate the glyph beside it. “I’m with Susie, everythin’s fine up here.”
Once everyone checked in, Sandalphon addressed them again. “We should be clear to proceed then. Use caution, and call on me if you need to. Halo out.”
Well, at least the others were all okay, even if that nasty little trick left them disunited. After giving his thoughts on the situation with a groaning sigh, Goldlewis turned to face Susie. Their mission in Quarantine Valley last night had been the first time they worked together since the Seekers arrived in Midgar, but they hadn’t really cooperated, so the veteran still knew relatively little about her and what she could do. He’d seen her Business Suit, though, so despite Susie’s small size he knew that she carried a big stick. “Well little miss, looks like we’re on our own for now,” he told her. “Still, between the two of us, we got some serious firepower up our sleeves. If we run into trouble, we’ll give ‘em the business, eh?”
”If they get in the way? Of course. I do hope they enjoy extermination by blaster <3.” Susie said in a cute voice, a bit gleeful to see what all of this would amount to.
The two ran into trouble almost right away, though not in the way Goldlewis expected. When the veteran and the money-minded machine made their way off the module they’d been sent to, stepped onto one of the many strange bridges connecting Arahabaki’s elevated modules. It featured a strange, grooved surface with grouped dots and bars, as if the whole thing was a giant, elaborate punch card, and a hazardous ‘railing’ that consisted of a single red rail suspended over both its sides. While it seemed stable, Goldlewis didn’t like it, and he jogged around its curved length as quickly as he could. After it straightened out, he could see it ramp up toward a module walled in like a feudal fortress at the end, but before that point the bridge ran between a pair of towers that seemed to serve as some sort kind of checkpoint, each home to an electronic shrine with holographic talismans hanging from their braided red cords.
More worryingly, he could see one bizarre creature on either side, each a surreal amalgam of metal objects, mannequin parts, brass instrumentation, and feminine footwear. “Hold up,” Goldlewis cautioned, his eyebrows shooting up. “Those are…Others!” Sure enough, the Base Paws quickly noticed the intruders. Rather than move, the living mortars began to fire off arcing blasts of boiling oil from their pipeline mouths. “Come on, now,” he groused. “What are doggone Others doin’ down here!?” Swinging his coffin around to use a shield, he picked up the pace.
Before he could worry too much about why (or how) Shinra would put brain-eating abominations down here for security, a new problem presented itself. Well before he reached the shrine checkpoint, the bridge beneath him began to move like a conveyor belt beneath him, carrying him backward. Off-balance, he stumbled and nearly fell, then jumped to the side to avoid an oil shot. In doing so, he saw the next one swerve mid-air toward him, which (being physically impossible) took him by surprise. He had to block it, which stopped his momentum completely, and the bridge casually conveyed him away from the oil-spouting others. “Damn it!” He could activate his Wall of Light, but with that barrier up he couldn’t move forward fast enough to outpace the rate he’d be sent backward.
Susie, at least, could fly. Being able to approach the Base Paws led to a discovery of her own, though. These Others were panicky, and the moment they got hit -or someone got close- their metal ‘skirts’ would slide down to shield their legs completely. Those legs, covered with bulbous red sacs, seemed to be their only weak spots, and if a Seeker stuck around them to try and pierce their defense they’d start dropping their explosive lanterns to set their attackers alight, especially if they were doused in oil. Still, making them hunker down had one benefit: they stopped shooting. Susie’s help was pivotal, since Goldlewis couldn’t use Burn it Down down here to drop a satellite laser on the stationary Others, and his weapons didn’t have enough range. Seeing this, Susie hovered behind them, shooting their exposed legs with her blaster and forcing them to be on guard, giving Goldlewis an easy approach as they would stop bombarding him, and instead go into their defensive position. When not under fire, Goldlewis could run (and more importantly, airdash) his way across the bridge to the checkpoint.
Once he reached it, he took a crack at a Base Paws with his coffin, but even that couldn’t break through its metal armor before the lanterns started falling. That gave him an idea, though, and after giving the Base Paws enough space to lower its guard, he charged back in. Strikes might not work against such a strong block, but a throw might. He grabbed hold of the metal lattice with both hands and mustered his strength. “GrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” With a great effort he pushed the monster over, and the impact with its canopy jarred loose both its defensive skirt and its lanterns, causing a chain explosion that softened it up. Then Goldlewis grabbed it by the legs and began to spin, swinging the monster around by the legs in order to chuck it off the shrine tower and onto the receding conveyor. The Base Paws landed with a huge crash, its canopy totally busted, and rolled away. Susie then followed up by taking some pot shots at it with her blaster, keeping it rolling away and teaching it a lesson.
Once he and Susie dealt with the bridge checkpoint, they entered the next stretch. Once again the conveyor began to move, pulling them backward. This time, something new quickly joined the mix: strange discs that slid out from slots on the far end of the bridge, then got conveyed toward the pair like a cookies in a factory line. To Goldlewis they looked like hubcaps, but as he watched them approach they beeped alarmingly, their lights blinking red. “Holy hell! Mines!” And with the upward ramp of the bridge, they’d be even harder to avoid. He turned tail and ran back to the start to avoid the first wave, then held back to try and get a sense of the pattern in which the mines were coming. Susie could hover above the mines and watch as they moved past, not being anywhere close enough to set them off. She could at least shoot a couple to give Goldlewis some room to breathe and space to jump, being able to hover near where they were being released and shoot them on occasion. Granted she couldn’t take them all out for fear of structural stability to the conveyor belt and for Goldlewis’ safety.
Goldlewis jumped and double jumped his way up the incline, panicking the whole time. One bad landing, one late jump, and it might be over. Twice he came too close to a mine and saved himself with Faultless Defense, negating the damage at the cost of getting guard crushed and sent back to the start. Realizing that his tension wouldn’t last forever, he breathed deep, then took a running jump and pulled off a Roman Cancel right at the start of his airdash. Doing so flung him most of the way, and a moment later he reached the end, sweating buckets and panting but still alive. “Guhh,” he grumbled. “I reckon that took a couple years off my life. I need better mobility, damn it…”
About the time the two entered the walled module, the security alert finally received its answer. High up on Arahabaki’s ceiling, panels opened, and mechanisms released large purple objects. They plummeted down toward the module array on Arahabaki’s floor, their falls slowed by jets of green flame from four angled thrusters. Seven in total, they descended toward platforms ahead of the intruding Seekers, where the Type-53 Squad Breaching Carapace touched down and slid open their lateral doors to deploy four emergency responders apiece.
As Goldlewis and Susie watched, a jacked robot decked out in militaristic cybernetics shouldered his way out of the drop pod, followed by a much smaller, more fantastical clockwork doll, an old veteran using a sniper rifle as a staff, and a bearded tech sergeant in green camo and spider-like goggles, who made his way to the front with some kind of advanced projector in hand.
“About time,” Goldlewis huffed. “If Vernon was still runnin’ the place, I bet y’all woulda been here ten minutes ago.”
Lip curling, Hank took a puff of his cigar. “Got an attitude on ya, huh? Well, sorry to keep ya waitin’, lardass, but don’t you worry.” He activated his Shield Charger, granting the whole enemy team a personal shield. “We’ll make this nice an’ quick.”
“Hmph.” Goldlewis cracked his neck, then lifted his coffin onto his shoulder. “You’d do well to address me as ‘Sir’.”
”It's about time something happened that wasn’t a conveyor ride full of traps. I do apologize but we have an appointment to make and you four are in the way.” Susie said, getting her blaster ready.
“Darn tootin’,” Goldlewis replied, ready to fight. “Let’s rock.”
Arahabaki - Silver Experience
Level 5 Sandalphon (53/50) Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man Word Count: 1525
New Power: Frost Lock The power to cast an icy cluster that moves about as fast as a thrown softball. On hit, it detonates in a small area, freezing enemies and machines for 3 seconds. Larger targets take two usages of Frost Lock to be frozen. Large targets also take triple the amount of previous Frost Lock usages to be frozen again. This power has a cooldown of 12 seconds
As the responses from the scattered Seekers came in, Sandalphon recorded each pairing on a screen she’d summoned. Goldlewis and Susie…Zenkichi and Sakura…Midna and Giovanna…Roxas and Blazermate…Roland and Raz…Pit and Karin. She felt foolish for not anticipating countermeasures like this, but then again, even the Angel of Information was going in blind here. As the Midgar city computer and the central server of Psynet itself, Arahabaki was a highly restricted place, and despite her mind’s vast reserves of data Sandalphon had nothing on this layout or defenses on this place. She disliked flying blind, but in this case there was no helping it. That said, she did bemoan her failure to ask Pit, Midna, and Sakura for their cursory impressions of this place earlier this morning or last night. Between all the things going on, her mind had been elsewhere–still, that was no excuse. For Sandalphon, anything less than perfection was failure, and she did not intend to fail again.
“We should be clear to proceed then. Use caution, and call on me if you need to. Halo out.” Sandalphon released her halo’s cord, allowing it to hang beside her. By pure chance, the number of Seekers meant that they’d been randomly sorted into duos, with nobody left out or third-wheeling. As much as she wanted to find a vantage point and provide support to everyone at once, this situation demanded her to take an active role, so beyond warping to an ally for an emergency heal she would need to trust in the others to get through this place. That meant focusing on just one pair in particular: herself and Geralt of Rivia.
“Of course, while I can attend the others if needed, I have no intention whatsoever of abandoning you,” Sandalphon stated, turning to address the Witcher. “I pledge to support you to the best of my humble ability. At the same time, I must ask that if we meet with danger, please protect me when possible. I possess a weak constitution.” She closed her eyes and gave him an apologetic bow. Once finished she brought out her Eye of Sol rifle, slung across her back. “I had hoped to be more useful in terms of offense with this. Unfortunately, it is too small for me to use effectively. My apologies.” She replaced the gun on her back, then summoned her gunstaff in staff mode. “One other thing, if I may. Though potent, my restorative skills must be charged by attacking. In other words, I have to consistently land hits before I can heal you. Please keep this in mind.”
With that, the two set off. The path laid out ahead of them, fenced in by short gray walls with slanted red-shingled roofs like the walls of a rock garden, soon brought them to an elaborate drawbridge mechanism. Geralt’s strength was able to knock it down on the Seekers’ side, and afterward Sandalphon could shoot the terminal on the far side to drop the other half into place. The greater challenge came next: a downward-sloped bridge, with just thin red rails suspended on either side between any prospective traversers and a long fall. Sandalphon frowned at it, noting that the bridge sported an incline rather than any steps. “This may be difficult with heels,” she muttered. Nevertheless she pushed forward, passing through the large, technological-looking archway and carefully crossing the bridge.
The real difficulty came when the two got just over halfway down, as the bridge suddenly began to move beneath them. Sandalphon toppled instantly, falling onto her tailbone. “Ah.” Though deadpan as ever, her pupils turned into flashing skulls. As the conveyor bridge carried her and Geralt back toward the top, a series of fwooms obliged her to look over her shoulder, allowing her to see the array of bright red laser beams that now formed a grid inside the archway she was rapidly approaching. “We should avoid that,” she announced, picking herself up. While Geralt could sprint down the sloped bridge, she really couldn’t. Even at top speed, she couldn’t keep pace with the giant treadmill. Sandalphon extended her free hand toward the bridge itself, trying to access the power granted by her fusion with Vigilant. Her pupils became snowflakes, and she launched an icy cluster that burst against the bridge’s surface, chilling it. It did not stop, however; it would take another Frost Lock to ice it over. The archangel lost her footing and fell forward onto her hands and knees.
She did not look defeated, though. “Keep running,” she told Geralt as the bridge sped her toward the lasers. “Ten seconds.” Sandalphon picked herself up with the help of her gunstaff, then used Vault just before reaching the laser grid, flinging herself straight upward. She seized her halo and landed softly on top of the arch, where she knelt with her hand outstretched. “Five, four, three, two, one. Freezing.” When she fired off another Frost Lock, its touch froze the bridge solid. It also dropped Geralt, and the Witcher began to pick up speed as he slid down the bridge toward the bottom. Three seconds later, he shot off the end onto the top of the next module, and the bridge unfroze. With nobody on it, it stopped moving, but Sandalphon wasn’t about to totter her way down it again. Instead she jumped off the archway and glided all the way down, alighting next to Geralt a few moments later. “Are you uninjured?”
As exciting as that had been (at least in theory) the next part might be even more interesting. This module, low enough that steam from Arahabaki’s floor wafted up in curtains on either side of it, was a long gauntlet of different turrets. Decked out in distinctive white and orange atop cylindrical bases, these defense towers sported a futuristic style and five different designs that Sandalphon could identify, including tri-barrel cannons, ringed gatlings, ground-pounding ACP towers, miniature factories, and a device that suspended an orb for a purpose she couldn’t immediately discern. They were arranged strategically along a maze of empty bases in a zig-zag pattern, with the ACPS on the inner corners and the guns around the longest sight lines. Though the sight of it all put Sandalphon on alert, she immediately realized that the gun turrets’ targeting range must be bizarrely low. “These are automated ranged weapons like ballistae,” she mentioned for the sake of her medieval partner. “They haven’t registered us yet, though. This setup seems to be intended to funnel targets through a path that will ensure maximum damage. We can forge our own.”
As it turned out, this setup was highly exploitable by anyone with a brain. In addition to low range, the turrets lacked firepower individually, so Geralt’s shield worked well against them. When Sandalphon shot a cannon, she found it highly susceptible, and proceeded to charge both her skills while destroying the turrets on one side. While the ACPs pounded the ground constantly to deal damage in an area, climbing on top of the empty bases put the Seekers beyond the shockwaves’ reach. Only in the vicinity of the orb-suspending AMPs did the turrets really get punishing, but repeated gunstaff shots were enough to disable it. Still, getting through the gauntlet took a little while, so by the time the archangel and the Witcher got to the end, the emergency response teams were on their way.
A drop pod landed on the module just ahead, so after the turret gauntlet the Seekers ascended the staircase to see who’d come to bar their way. This next module, octagonal in shape, featured a tower that looked like a large transformer on every corner, with connecting fences in between them and a sort of central gazebo ringed with electric blue tourou lamps. The drop pod opened just as Sandalphon and Geralt arrived, and from within appeared a team of four women in different kinds of formal attire. “Stay behind me,” a black-suited lady with incredibly long flame-red hair said calmly, raising her shield as she hefted her heavy flanged mace with ease. In silence a white-haired professional stood partially behind the defender, lips pursed and gauntlet ready as she watched with narrow eyes.
“So, these are the intruders? Wow, they’re super tall.” Smiling as if she didn’t have a care in the world a less stoic, less lustrous redhead flicked her braid over her shoulder and pushed aside the jacket tied around her waist to draw her twin pistols. Finally, the team healer stayed back, barely peeking out from behind the others–not to mention her trim, raven-black bangs. This well-dressed director carried only a PDA, but the drone floating beside her looked like it meant business.
Fast as ever, Gio reached the teleporter at the head of the pack, only to find herself all on her lonesome. Midna turned up not long after, but after that, nobody else seemed to be forthcoming. “Oh hey, you again,” the agent said by way of greeting. The two of them had ended up on a module that looked like a courtyard, filled with computing devices shaped like little shrines and komainu statues. Torii gates around the edges preceded bridges in several different directions, and enormous bundles of red cables wound into massive shimenawa ropes that connected them. Giovanna didn’t really know what had happened, but she knew that Sandalphon still had everyone connected, so she waited for the archangel to explain the situation.
It didn’t take long for Sandalphon to oblige. From the sound of it, that teleporter sent the various Seekers to a bunch of different receivers all throughout Arahabaki, so for now Giovanna and Midna were on their own as they made their way to Arahabaki’s grand central structure. “You and me, huh?” she asked, hands on her hips. Having not re-braided her hair this morning, her choppy crimson locks hung down past her shoulder, so she brushed half of them back behind her ear. “Alrighty then, show me what you’ve got.”
Even with the whole area too bright for Midna to hide in shadows, the Twilight Princess could move quickly, so that was one thing the two women had in common. They booked it, crossing several modules and bridges in quick succession. If it turned out that they went the wrong way through this sprawling gray maze, it didn’t take long to double back. Sometimes doors slammed shut, metal bars shot out to block a way, or walls rose from the floor, but the two were agile enough to get around most of the obstructions with ease by jumping, airdashing, climbing, and grappling.
Only on a longer conveyor bridge did they run into trouble. When it began to move, the treadmill went much faster than any of the others so far. Gio dashed again and again, but despite her blistering speed, she found herself unable to gain any real ground. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long until she got tired and the conveyor belt sped her backward toward the deadly laser grid erected behind her. “This is dumb. Rei?” Giovanna’s wolf spirit descended and got down on all fours, and once her master climbed on, Rei took off running even faster. The two became a green-and-red blur as they closed in on the far side of the bridge, only for a handful of drones to float out of saisenbako boxes on the next platform. One by one, they turned, projected a red laser, and floated forward.
“Oh, gimme a break,” Gio groaned. With her arms around Rei’s furry neck, she held on tight as the wolf spirit leaped over the first laser, then over the second, then went low and sprawled out under the third. Vertical laser drones forced the pair to veer right, then left, then right again. Then the drones started coming two at a time, left and low, right and low, right and high, left and high, right and left, then finally up and down. Rei dodged, ducked, and jumped as needed right until the end, at which point it became clear that she and Gio couldn’t possibly get through the high and low lasers together. So Giovanna gathered herself and used her companion as a springboard, leaping over the lasers and then airdashing right into the other arch. “Oof…” Wincing at the wind knocked from her lungs, she climbed up onto the arch, then hopped down onto the next module.
This one was quite large, with rows of server racks set up like ema gakari on either side, laden with holographic ema tablets. In between stood electronics arranged into what looked like a Japanese rock garden in a remarkable feat of engineering, with grooves in tranquil patterns and engraved plug-in modules like standing sekihi stone monuments. Long, relatively narrow walkways without handrails criss-crossed the ‘garden’, sometimes bridging little rivers of coolant. Cables had been wound into spiral trees, their branches stripped at the end so that the wires could splay out into smaller branches, and holographic omamori dangled beneath them. Soon after they arrived, a drop pod descended from the ceiling toward this strange garden. Giovanna watched its approach with her arms crossed, nonplussed. A moment later the pod landed and divulged its occupants.
First on the scene was a severe-looking blonde in a gray pinstripe suit and a cape, wielding a high-tech lance as long as she was tall. “Halt!” she cried out immediately, taking point for her team. Behind her the other three formed up: a commando in yellow with dual machine pistols, a stern-looking psychic soldier in blue, and a big man in heavy white armor with a rocket launcher and a shotgun. “This is a restricted area. Our orders are to stop you getting any farther, by any means necessary.”
Four on two, huh? That didn’t sound fair. Then again, Giovanna was a two-for-one kind of deal, and who knew how much help Midna might be packing. “Yeah, yeah.” Not too bothered, the secret agent yawned, then beckoned the goons closer. “Let’s get this over with.”
Sure enough, after just a few moments the ground began to rumble. Nadia grit her teeth in a smirk, steeling herself for some kind of tunneling behemoth. Rather than keep her and the others in suspense, however, the source of the disturbance appeared right away. A large block of stone pushed itself up from through the soul at the far end of the room. About twenty feet tall and fifteen wide, it seemed featureless except for the gaping black rectangular hole on the front, and some sort of sign just above that opening: a red ring with a downward-pointing white arrow. Something clicked in Nadia’s mind. “Wait…that symbol. I’ve seen it somewhere before, I know I have!”
And with that realization came a sinking feeling. A dreadful and familiar sensation seeped not from within Nadia’s heart, but from that yawning mouth of darkness. That inimitable aura of wrongness. Like drinking saltwater, the taste of metal. A crawling beneath the skin borne of microwave radiation. Orchestrated tinnitus. Anathema. She’d felt it twice before. Once in the depths of King’s Station, where every fiber of her being mutely screamed in instinctual alarm. Once again in Falldown Mall, but at such a distance that she thought it diminished, accustomed to, and manageable. “It’s one of them,” she heard herself say, though what ‘they’ were was impossible to say. She swallowed, her claws already sharpened, and stared into the darkness, waiting.
From behind her came the rustling of dry wings. When Nadia averted her eyes from the void, she spotted paper butterflies, a whole swarm of them. Gathered from all over the prison, they now fluttered in from Mercy Dreams’ fifth layer. They flew above the Seekers’ heads and made a beeline for the dark doorway. They streamed inside, and over the papery chorus Nadia could hear a voice. It welled up from the floor below, getting louder as its owner grew closer. The voice was higher than she might expect; reedy, singsong. It didn’t speak, but it hummed, and she didn’t know the tune. Out of everyone here, only Jesse might.
The Director recognized it. Gun out, taking a couple steps forward, letting that familiar unreal feeling wash over her. ‘He’s a jolly good fellow.’ She heard the lyrics of the little jingle in her mind.
When the tune ended, everything was quiet for a moment. Then the newcomer emerged from the darkness, staining the face of reality with something that didn’t belong. At least, not in the context of something standing and walking around, for its colors and texture were like blotchy watercolor on aged parchment. It sported a human torso of bare flesh on shaggy legs and hooves, matched by a coiled tail and the furry head of a donkey with brown teeth bared, its head permanently turned sideways so that one saucer-round yellow eye could stare, unblinking, at the Seekers. It moved at a lower framerate, its colors shimmering and sliding slightly as it did, in its hands it held a green book, open so that each of the paper butterflies could unravel and tuck themselves inside. Nadia realized that this creature resembled the wooden carving she’d found earlier. After a moment, it slammed the book shut, and held it behind its back.
”POOR THINGS.” Its voice had a theatrical sort of unsavory silliness to it, like that of an archetypal trickster. ”STRUGGLING AND STRUGGLING. ALL THIS PAIN AND MISERY, AN EXERCISE IN MEANINGLESS FUTILITY MADE IN BLISSFUL IGNORANCE. HOW I ENVY YOU!”
”So this hideous creature is the area boss?” Sectonia said, not liking its chimeric design at all.
Ganondorf had hung back at first, having decided to give himself a breather and let the other Seekers deal with the other creatures on this fifth layer. The loud and shrieking voice was what changed his mind. The Gerudo King entered the chamber the same way that Jesse and the Travelers had earlier. He almost wanted to cover his ears as a reflex to the loud voice of the monster. But he had a feeling that wouldn’t have done him any good.
”Yeah, well, how about I introduce you to some pain so you don’t have to be jealous any more!?” Bowser shouted back after a moment, responding to feelings of fear and discomfort with foolish bravado. As he did that, Jr and Kamek both felt a shared urge to check on the carving and book they both had respectively acquired up in the warden’s office, as much to see if they were still there as to double check the similarity to this otherworldly thing in appearance and description each held.
Unflinching, the being brought out its book again and flipped to a certain page. ”OH, BOWSER,” it chided. ”BENEATH ALL THOSE STOLEN TRAPPINGS, YOU’RE AS SIMPLE AS EVER.”
”Well yeah, ‘course you’ve heard of me!” Bowser started to gloat, before cutting himself off with a ”Hey wait a second! What do you mean simple!?”
”Only you could get into an argument with a mindless monster and still find a way to lose.” Ganondorf quipped, finding himself almost amused at the Koopa King’s idiocy.
For Therion's part, he didn't have to check the little wooden carving he'd found to see that it most likely depicted the mule-headed figure in front of them. He shouldn't have brushed the wooden figure off so quickly, because of course it couldn't have been a coincidence, but there hadn't been a lot of time to stop and study it either.
Instinctively the thief took a few steps backward, away from the thing even while he made sure his weapons were in his hands.
Primrose had taken a step forward, regarding the newcomer darkly with her ice lance in her grasp. Intelligent enemies were more troublesome than simple beasts - and from the aura given off by the strange thing, the only thing it could be was an enemy. She wondered if it was a jailer or a prisoner here, or something else altogether.
Neither of the two of them had seen something like this, but both were ready to face off against it - even with the tangible impression that it was more dangerous than it looked.
"You've seen something like this before?" Primrose asked, cutting a quick glance to Ms. Fortune.
Nadia narrowed her eyes as she whispered back. “Kind of? It didn’t look like this. But it felt like this. The same kind of ‘wrong’.” The fact that it knew Bowser’s name unnerved her, though clearly that knowledge originated from the book in its hands. Clearing her throat, she raised her voice. “Hey, assface! Am I in your little book, too?”
”OF COURSE.” The being held its fingers over the book, and the pages turned themselves. ”NADIA…OR WOULD YOU PREFER MS FORTUNE? A BORROWED SURNAME, A BORROWED PLACE TO BELONG. YOU NEVER HAD PARENTS TO GIVE YOU ONE OF YOUR OWN.”
For a moment, the feral stood dumbfounded, her mouth agape as her teasing smile turned into a snarl of pure rage. Between the others hearing her first name, or seeing her comedy mask broken, it was a day for firsts. For once, Nadia found herself lost for words.
It was the creature's response to Ms. Fortune that put Primrose and Therion even more on edge. Part of it was how affected the feral was, but it was also the words themselves. Between being surveyed by the Organization or the Consuls and their general familiarity with magic, they both thought it would be a simple thing for an antagonistic stranger to learn their names. But more in depth knowledge? If there were files on all of them, their strengths and weaknesses, akin to the pages of monster information that the paper moths featured... it could be very bad for the Seekers, to put it mildly.
“Wow, dick.” Jesse said, offended for her friend and on principle, given her reaction. She had to admit, this creature looked fucking cool. But that was all he had going for him. “We’re just here for the mask piece, so… I mean there doesn’t need to be a fight.” She said, though in a tone of voice that indicated she realized the inevitability of it.
But she wouldn’t be a very good Director if she didn’t at least make a cursory attempt at conflict de-escalation, even with the freakiest shit imaginable.
”RIGHT YOU ARE.” The entity’s unwavering gaze lay upon her. ”YET MANY CHOOSE VIOLENCE RATHER THAN FACE TRUTHS THEY CANNOT ACCEPT.”
”And a way to access dreams” Kamek reminded them as he continued flicking through the book in a rather futile search for answers, before having a thought and enquiring ”I don’t suppose you have anything about Galeem in that tome of yours, do you?”
Before the entity could properly address or lay eyes on Kamek, its attention was taken by someone else. ”Am I the only one here wondering how exactly this abomination knows so much about us?” Ganondorf demanded, beginning to become impatient, ”A magic tome is one thing, but the writings in that tome had to have come from somewhere.” he reasoned. It was a logical enough question to ask. And he now was also wondering to himself if they could use that tome for themselves.
”I say…” Ganondorf said as his hands went for his twin greatswords, ”...we take it! Or at the very least destroy it so it can never be used against us.”
The entity held up its book, staring at it. “”WHAT? THIS LITTLE THING?” Then it shook its head, gently. Mockingly. ”DON’T LET IT BOTHER YOU. IT ISN’T REAL.” A chill crept through the air and down the Seekers’ spines. ”THEN AGAIN…WE ALLOW ALL MANNER OF UNREAL THINGS TO BOTHER US, DON’T WE? FRIENDS. ENEMIES. FAME AND FORTUNE. OUR PASTS AND FUTURES. OUR VERY LIVES…” Just as the waves made from the being’s voice vibrated the air, so too did they vibrate the listeners’ souls. ”FICTION.”
“...Yep,” Jesse said, stepping forward and to the side, leaning to the right to see if she could see the piece behind them or something. “Everyone loves a good story.”
“My name is Jesse. I’ll admit, someone made that up.” She said, not seeing anything. On the off-chance it was suspended from the ceiling or something, she glanced up there. “What’s yours?”
“”WHY, I AM BUT A MERRY WANDERER OF THE NIGHT,” the entity replied. “”THEY CALL ME HOBGOBLIN, AND PUCK. I AM ROBIN GOODFELLOW!” It lifted up its tome, and flipped through a couple pages. “”YOU NEED NOT TELL ME YOUR NAME, JESSE. IT’S RIGHT HERE IN THIS BOOK. RATHER, WHY DON’T YOU TELL ME YOUR FATHER’S?” Robin’s gaze turned toward Junior. “”OR YOU, LITTLE ONE. WHO IS YOUR MOTHER?”
“I’d rather not say, if you don’t mind. Kind of a weird thing to ask, Robin.” Jesse said, while Jr replied exasperatedly ”I ain’t got one yet! Why do people keep asking me that?” clearly rather upset by the question but not at all for the reason Robin seemed to have intended.
Though still very mad, Nadia couldn't help but be a little sheepish, since she'd been the other one to ask Junior. Her question came from a place of innocent curiosity, and he hadn't seemed bothered then, but he sure seemed bothered now. This Robin monster was getting into their heads.
”THAT’S RIGHT,” Robin said. YOU DON'T HAVE A MOTHER. YOU WERE NEVER A BABY. YOU WERE NEVER BORN.”
"What the hell is it talking about?" At first Therion had been given the impression that the creature was some kind of demented sage, but could it have lost its mind? Reasoning with it seemed useless as is.
”I have a feeling this creature is what caused all those above to go mad. Possibly from its ramblings.” Sectonia said. For once though, she was with Ganondorf. Assuming that book didn’t turn people insane by viewing it, it would be very useful. Why did she get a very faint inkling that she knew of an all knowing book? Huh… strange.
”THAT BOOK,” Robin said suddenly. Its head turned forward for the first time, facing Kamek. Over its left eye, kept hidden until now, was worn the upper-left third of a mask. Both eyes were on the book held in the magikoopa’s hands. “”A CURIOUS READ.” The aura surrounding Robin seemed to swell slightly, a discordant ringing in the ears. “”A STORY OF FAIRIES: OF KING OBERON, QUEEN TITANIA, AND THE TRICKSTER ROBIN GOODFELLOW.” After turning its head sideways again, Robin continued to glare. “”WHEN THE SUNFLOWER GAVE IT TO ME, I REALIZED. THAT I AM BUT AN INVENTION OF A MORTAL PLAYWRIGHT - A MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, TO BE PRECISE. AND NONE OF YOU ARE ANY BETTER. SIMPLY MORE DELUDED.”
Robin lowered its book. “”OUR STORIES ARE NOT OUR OWN. LET THE TRUTH OF IT WASH OVER YOU. LET IT PULL YOU INTO ITS DEPTHS UNTIL YOU CAN NO LONGER GASP FOR AIR.”
The way this thing was speaking... so high and mighty, like it knew everything and the Seeker's struggles were just an amusing game... It upset Primrose. Its words touched somewhere dark in the depths of her heart. The fact that it was trying to upset her friends as well was secondary to the revulsion she felt, more than just the inherent feeling that this creature shouldn't exist. When the mule man spoke she could almost hear his voice too - the traitor who likened himself to a puppet master, and her life and her goal to mere stage drama. The man with the mark of the crow upon his neck.
"Enough of you!" she hissed at the thing. She took a deep, steadying breath immediately afterward, but it was no good. It didn't matter if this 'Goodfellow' included itself as one of the sad, unwitting actors. She wouldn't stand for it to draw her in its delusion, and she couldn't have stopped herself if she'd wanted to.
Without warning her allies she disappeared the next moment, leaving wisps of shadows where she once stood. She let her Ravaging Confession carry her forward, teleporting behind the monster and lashing out at it with her lance. Shadow and icy flames licked at the entity.
Well, Ganondorf wasn’t going to complain. If someone didn’t begin the fight then he eventually would have himself. With weapons still in hand, he made a gesture that summoned his Moblins to him. Together they leveled bows in order to take aim at Robin and then let their fire arrows fly. Ganondorf himself stayed put for the moment. He wanted to gauge this thing first before bumbling into a melee skirmish against it.
With another gesture, he summoned Blast Hornet who went to work targeting the abomination with his holographic crosshairs in order to use three consecutive Search Attacks against it. So during these Search Attacks and the volleys of fire arrows, the Gerudo King watched and observed - opting for caution and waiting to see what the monster would do before deciding his next move.
The others' call to action was all the impetus Nadia needed to quit smoldering in anger and rush forward to help shut this abomination up. She didn’t fully grasp whatever it was talking about, and she didn’t really care. So what if it struggled with the circumstances of its birth? Did that make it special, somehow? Her entire life had been one long run of making what she could of her own unfortunate origin story. If this thing thought that its own misfortune justified behavior like this, Robin Goodfellow wasn't anything special after all. It was just an asshole, and the world has plenty of those.
The sudden lance strike to Robin’s leg did a little damage to it, but the entity seemed more annoyed than hurt. It took a long step away, its hooves clicking against the floor, and as it continued to do so it avoided most of the Moblins’ volley. Then it extended its free hand, like an actor performing a soliloquy. ”SLEEP. PERCHANCE TO DREAM.” Magical fairy dust rained down on Primrose, and her eyelids grew heavy.
"You...!" She tried to say, irritated with its tactic. Ultimately she was unable to resist the spell and she slumped down, asleep.
“Primrose!” Rather than make a beeline for Robin, Nadia skidded to a stop next to the fallen dancer. Her friend was still breathing, but seemed completely unconscious, and no amount of stirring -whether gentle or not so much- would rouse her. “Hey, get up!” Nadia said urgently, trying to pry open Primrose’s eyes. “A rose oughta sleep in a flowerbed, y’know? Not here!”
“She’s out, Nadia! We gotta pull her back!” Jesse commanded, trying to refocus Nadia’s attention on the thing she could do rather than what she couldn’t.
The sudden turn of events spooked Therion enough that he had been frozen in place. What fur he had was standing on end, and his eyes were wide with apprehension. That thing had incapacitated Primrose so quickly and so easily. Therion's skin tingled with the want to escape the situation, but he was rooted to the spot until the women confirmed that his friend was alright. Just a sleep spell. Combined with the unnatural, alien aura of the monster and the way it spoke, it had seemed worse at first.
He didn't cross the arena towards Primrose. Instead he let the other Seekers take the brunt of the attention as usual, black cloaked form melting into the dark edges of the room.
Robin opened his book, the pages flipping on their own turning in a raspy flurry. ”I WILL GRANT YOU MERCY. BE IT IN DREAMS...” Ethereal energy welled up around the tome, and after a moment two streaks flew out to dive into the ground next to Robin. Two strange warriors manifested, both part organic and part machine in sleek, streamlined shapes. One looked like a mechanized ox with his horns and ring-shaped piercings, black in color but bearing a rifle and melee weapons of white, all ornamented in gold. The other was slender, delicate and elegant as a butterfly in bright shades of red and teal, a gilded shotgun and saber on her person. As they stood, readying their weapons, ten purple diamond outlines flared up in a halo-like arc around Robin’s head. ”...OR DEATH.”
Lew and Rayne turned out to be a good team, able to effectively rescue and reunite any trapped -or just separated- villagers they came across. Though the latter’s teleportation spells might have trivialized all such endeavors on paper, not everyone they discovered needed to be spirited away to safety, while others needed to be extracted before the Witch Knight could work her magic, so Lewa had plenty to do.
If anything, the hard part wasn’t the work, but making sure that the terrified and/or traumatized villagers knew they had nothing to fear from him. Highly-saturated emerald green might not be the most intimidating color to be decked out in, Lewa’s size, presence, and inherent otherness spooked them plenty. The toa had his hands full trying to assure everyone he rescued of his best intentions, since in the heat of the moment his actions might not speak for him. In his own world, every matoran gazed upon toa with instinctive trust, borne from the countless legends of their heroic guardians. Here, not so much. Since that Varst mistook him as something called a ‘golem’, Lewa could only assume that beings like him in this world must be dreaded weapons of war. That, or these poor people had suffered enough that they saw everything new in terms of potential threat.
Well, Lewa couldn’t really blame them considering what happened. If they were afraid of him, it was up to him to change that, one smile, one gentle word, and one extended hand at a time.
Not everyone was content with being saved, though. One man freed from a room whose door had been barred by falling supports went not in the direction of safety, but toward the surrounding woodland. With the village almost totally combed over at this point, Lewa jogged after the preoccupied-looking fellow. Rayne asked where the lone worrier was headed, and for now Lewa couldn't offer her much of a reply. "That's what I intend-plan to find out!"
After a few moments he caught up his his target, approaching from the side so as to not take him by surprise. “Where to now, friend? More foes could be laying in wait, why not seek safety in group-numbers?” As it turned out, the man couldn’t rest until he’d made sure that his family was safe. Lewa nodded in understanding, not intending to obstruct the man in his quest to find his loved ones. “Well then, allow me to join-guard you! The trees are my home, and I have never failed to escort-bring a companion home safely!”
Even if the fellow objected, there wasn’t much he could do to stop Lewa or his cordial gallantry. The toa tagged along with his new companion as he headed back into the forest, not hovering too closely, but staying near enough that he could both cover more ground in their shared search and leap to the organic’s defense if the need arose
Soon after his rats’ departure, Gru settled the last of his arrangements with the hungry unfortunates who’d been bade to seek him out. A few of them withheld their trust, despite their circumstances, believing that they could get a better deal elsewhere that wouldn’t involve an ambiguous imposition on their future. They’d already dispersed to seek more straightforward charity from someone else in the Caravan, which suited Gru just fine. With his appearance, mannerisms, and predisposition for shady legalese, he could repel even those who stood to get something from him for free, if that was his intention. Given his current situation, he couldn’t afford to hand out cheeses even if he wanted to. A merchant with no stock, after all, was no merchant at all.
As the largely-illiterate woodsmen trickled away, mostly unsatisfied and uncertain but now inextricably bound to the wily cheesemonger, Gru was left idle. The Caravan remained at a standstill, which frustrated him to no end. How long had it been now, an hour? As a maker and curator of cheeses, Gru thought of himself as a patient man, but in the Emerald Forest he just couldn’t rest easy. Fitful nights and monotonous days had haunted him since the wagon train first entered this place, and the sensation of pointless languishing had really worn down his composure. He already harbored a sour mood, stewing quietly as he conducted his business, but now the deployment of so many rats left him nervous and fidgety. Waiting for them to return safely was torture, and given the unnatural event he’d sent them to investigate, he’d probably made a mistake. “Should’ve gone with ‘em,” he muttered, full of regret. Why in the world did he choose to stay behind and toy with those bumpkins, reducing his stocks without tangible benefit, when his darlings’ safety came first and foremost?
Just as Gru was making up his mind to follow in his scouting party’s little footsteps with a rat platoon of his own, his table and chair ferried back into Chuck Wagon, someone else intruded upon his cheesy dominion. When he heard Siri, he squinted as he smiled. “Another valued customer,” he murmured through his teeth. Her request prompted him to tent his hands, his expression vexed.
“Gorge you? Why, I would never. My cheese isn’t simple fare for mindless feasting or indulgent gluttony. No, it is something to be savored and appreciated by a discerning palette. Quality over quantity, you understand. Something akin to an art form, all the more precious for its inherent temporariness…”
Trailing off suddenly, Gru put a hand to his forehead, as if mortified. “Oh, how silly of me. You must have meant gouge. And if that’s the case, truly you wound me, madam. I never charge unfairly or arbitrarily for my goods. If my prices seem high, it is because of the time and effort put into each and every product to ensure the Yarg quality guarantee. Quite a bit of effort goes into determining my prices, accounting for a multitude of factors…including supply. When supply is low, madam, prices rise, and I’m afraid you’ve arrived at a time of great shortage. I can count the number of non-bespoke cheeses that remain on one hand.” He held up four fingers for emphasis. “Still, I may have something in your price range. I believe I have a wedge left over from a small wheel of young boerenkaas gouda that I myself enjoyed yesterday. Only so much could fit in my melting pot, you see. I planned to have the rest myself, but for my customers, anything. Nutty, toasty, richly flavored…and yours, for a very reasonable price.” Gru crossed his arms, awaiting the old woman’s response.
Going without the ability would be even more debilitating. As you mentioned earlier, Robloxians can be easily killed. So I'm gonna need the power to respawn if I want to last long.
I would be fine with your character being tougher to compensate. There are characters in the RP who specifically have low health or defense as a Weakness, and your character isn't one of them, so he doesn't have to be any squishier than usual. As a rule I don't really kill PCs; they only get what they can handle. I would only be killing your character if he had this power, so if he didn't have it, I wouldn't be killing him.
Funnily enough, the name rush99999 did actually originate from a video game. When I was making an account for a now defunct online game called Adventure Rock, I tried entering 'goldrush' as my username. When that was rejected, rush99999 was suggested to me as an alternative and it has been my preferred username ever since.
<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>
I'm ok with that.
I KNEW that was going to be the yoda death scream lol, good one.
The username thing is fair, I suppose, I know it was a weird qualm of me to have in the first place since it's obviously not your name to begin with.
I guess that, regarding the power, I need to ask how far away you envision the last 'safe place' being. If you mean just outside whatever fight, that would remove the downside and give death a downtime of seconds, making him unstoppable. If you mean last 'safe place', the amount of time wasted could be much more massive. For example:
Right now, we have a character in the game named Ace Cadet, who has the power Felyne Rescue (or something like that). This means that up to three times in any single 'mission', a hero who would have been killed by an enemy attack instead faints and is carted back to the last base. Ace's team was in the Deep Blue Seaside, the region on the left of the continent, and our 'base' was Limsa Lominscuttle Town. We spent half an in-game day sailing north from there toward the Bottomless Sea in order to participate in a naval battle. When Felyne Rescue activated, the person involved got sent back to Limsa Lominscuttle Town. That's really, really far away.
As another example, right now the city team is infiltrating an underground area called Arahabaki, which they can only reach thanks to one of Midna's portals. Other characters can only use Midna's portals if she's there to take them through, or they risk being trapped somewhere within the Twilight Realm. If your guy was with us in the SOU headquarters and 'respawned' while fighting in Arahabaki, there would be no practical way to get back in.
Basically, depending on where the respawn point is, the ability could either be overpowered or so debilitating as to be an actual liability.
Here I am. Let me know if any changes are needed and I'll see to it.
Name: rush99999 Game Origin: Roblox Appearance:Looks like this. Personality: Like all other Robloxians, rush99999 craves entertainment above all else. Commonly going to extreme and often suicidal lengths in pursuit of it. Danger does nothing to deter him and usually even serves as encouragement. When in a situation he finds boring, he is prone to rash action for the sake of livening things up or simply wandering off to find something more interesting to do. Background: Before Galeem annihilated the universe and remade it in his image, rush99999 was just like any other Robloxian. He built, he fought, he established impossibly lucrative business ventures, and did anything else that struck his fancy in his search for satisfying entertainment. When Galeem came and destroyed it all, the Robloxians wouldn't have paid it much mind even without the Gleaming state suppressing their memories of the apocalypse. After all, what was one more death to beings that died ten times a day on average? When they were brought into the World of Light to pad out the population, it was business as usual. Driven by their never ending need for fun, the Robloxians went out into the world to build, fight among themselves, establish impossibly lucrative business ventures, and do anything else that sounded like a good time. And rush99999 was right there with them. But circumstance is about to draw him into the dramas of the wider world.
Specialty: Building and Fighting Level: 1 Experience: 0/10 Powers:
OOF!: Nothing short of a Final Smash can put a Robloxian down for good. When they die by any other means their corpse disappears a few moments later. They then reappear alive and well in the last safe place they visited.
Strengths:
Builder's Club: Robloxians are probably known best for their talent for building things. From shacks to skyscrapers to entire worlds. The only limit to their ability is the time and resources available to them.
i r teh pwnz0r!: Because of their ability to respawn, fights to the death are a common pastime among Robloxians. The combat experience this gives them, combined with them having little regard for their own safety, makes them some of the most dangerous combatants one could face.
Obby Experience: Obstacle courses (Often shortened to 'obbys' by the Robloxians.) are a popular choice of project among Robloxian builders. As a result, Robloxians have become adept at navigating even the most difficult pathways.
Weaknesses:
Reckless: Without the fear of death holding them back, Robloxians are prone to charging headlong into dangerous situations. This can lead to difficulties for their non-Robloxian allies.
Speech Bubbles: When Robloxians wish to communicate, they cannot do so by speaking. Instead, they must spend a varying period of time willing a speech bubble into existence to convey words for them. The more a Robloxian has to say, the longer the speech bubble takes to make.
Spirits: (See Spirits section for details. Start with none) Guest List:
Steve from Minecraft
Lego Star Wars Yoda
The Player from Sunset Overdrive
Inventory: Empty
An interesting application, for sure. One thing to be aware of is that no characters that originate from other mediums are acceptable, whether or not they appear in video games. That includes Yoda, and in a weird way, ourselves. I don't think this would necessitate a lot of changes, since I assume you as a person aren't near-suicidal for the sake of entertainment, but you might as well call the character just Rush or something. That fits a thrill-seeker after all. Steve is already in the World of Light, while you'd need to replace Yoda in the spirit list.
One final thing is that power. Final smashes aren't something that shows up often since they kill the user. No normal enemies will know how to use them, and no bosses are going to kill themselves on the chance of taking out a couple heroes. However, the bigger problem is because Robloxians can be easily killed by other means, and safe places can be few and far between, so if your character uses his power, he's just going to be stuck running back to the fight assuming he can get there or knows how to. So this power means that he will very rarely ever be seriously threatened, but may very often be massively inconvenienced. Maybe we could figure out an alternative of some kind? Like a special Inventory that allows him to store and instantly swap between up to ten pieces of equipment without having to carry them on his person.
Nights were never quiet in Midgar. Dusk ushered in the end of the day’s work for some, but for others it heralded their shifts’ beginning. Countless electric lamps turned the shadowy streets a warm yellow, while the city’s mako reactors sent plumes of ghostly luminescence into the city, bathing the metropolis and the undersides of the clouds above in a pervasive green glow, all lighting the way for the many people who made the night their home. Cars rolled, trains rattled, services were rendered, and deals were struck. At the moment, though, it seemed quieter throughout the sleepless city, and though Midgar knew well the ravages of the Ever Crisis, tonight was even more restless than usual. The authorities stalked the boulevards, watchful and jumpy. Civilians double-locked their doors, sealed shut their windows, and held their loved ones -plus any weapons- close.
In the City of Glass, the last fires on Vandelay Campus had been put out a while ago, but whether the gigantic facility would ever operate again was up in the air. Many of the plants, built with a focus on impressive visuals over practical, intelligent design, had barely kept it together to begin with; when the dust settled from DespoRHado’s invasion, there were so many hopeless breakdowns and bottlenecks in the production lines that starting over seemed like a better idea than trying to sort it all out. Still, things weren’t quite over on the Vandelay Campus. Though Zanzo perished and Korsica defected, Rekka, Roquefort, and Kale himself all remained, licking their wounds as they tried to salvage the situation.
With R&D masterless, its engineers could work on their own for once, and nobody worked harder than Tora. Ever since arriving in the morning, the brokenhearted Nopon had toiled away, barely stopping to eat until he could work no more. Without any of the materials he’d used on Alrest, and very few of the tools, he’d been forced to seek alternatives. Luckily R&D had a lot to offer, and both Mayer and Macaron put everything they had into helping the little guy. By the end of the night, their efforts were rewarded. A new Poppi Alpha had been built, complete with the same kind of synthetic skin Macaron used on his own cybernetics, and Mayer wove together synthetic fibers to create Poppi’s iconic beret and ribbons. Yet the closer they got, the more Tora felt frustrated. It wasn’t just that the materials and resulting parts weren’t the same–try as he might, he just couldn’t remember every exact detail. Worst of all, he knew he could never recreate the Ether Furnace that was the core of Poppi’s body, forcing him to use a high-output Vandelay robot core. When he finally put down his wrench for the night, he found himself staring at a ‘Poppi’ very much like the one he remembered, but not quite right. His Poppi was still out there in the Valley of Ruin. The logic virus had corrupted her body, moving it against her will, but it could never take away that certain something that made her more than just a machine. Once Tora got that, then his Poppi would live again. Until then, this ‘Poppi’ was just an empty shell.
Still, that did not stop him from falling asleep in ‘her’ arms.
In Suoh, the atmosphere was uneasy. Not because of the Other deluge, since Suoh had weathered made before and would weather many more, but because of that high-profile broadcast. The idea that Karen Travers, Septentrion First Class and the most powerful psionic in Midgar, would rebel against the government was unsettling enough, but the content of his message had been the real kicker. Who could the people trust? Already, those with the power to decide for themselves were in motion. Before the night was over, just over fifty percent of Psych-OSF would defect, fleeing Suoh with or without their families. Some wound up in Seiran, others further afield. Conflict was and would be inevitable, but for now most of the rebels fled without issue. They were the watchmen, after all, and if they had watchers, their watchers were looking elsewhere.
In Quarantine Valley, the arrival of Neuron had spelled the end for the redshift cascade. The anomaly had already been losing momentum by the time Midgar’s finest arrived, and despite trouble on the homefront, the dispatched officers bent all their efforts toward resolving the matter. Their x-batons allowed them to strike down aberrations and gates alike, fighting alongside natives like Kyle, Mudrock, Mudtooth, and Wind Chimes to keep the men, women, and children of Zone 09 safe beyond the corruption’s reach. At the forefront, each legionis fought against the chimeras with the aid of their legions. Jin Wong, Alicia Lopez, and Maximillian Howard even competed to see who could rack up the most chimera kills for a time, but when the Neuron operator Olive reached out to Captain Howard with bad news, the old warrior departed for Veles straight away. There, he found the task force’s headquarters in a state of disarray, the helipad barely intact enough to receive incoming vehicles. Down on the ground, Reunion had been routed after Jena’s demise, but not without a lot of casualties. Both of his children were MIA, and when Howard contacted Neuron’s leader, Consul Y had nothing for him but new orders: to find and arrest the crew who’d made an attempt on his life earlier that night.
Eventually, everyone who’d been stirred to action by the day’s events found some semblance of rest. Whether it be the Seekers in the SOU headquarters, Goldlewis in his solitary apartment, the teens in their hidden Suoh sanctuary, or Uppers in their cargo container houses. Defenders of the Sector 07 slums like Cloud, Tifa, and Clara drifted off in the shelter of Stargazer Heights, and the Yorha androids entered rest mode in the generous accommodations offered by the Lateran Church where Sandalphon sent them. If any of them couldn’t sleep in the pitch-black early hours of the morning, however, and ventured outside for a breath of fresh air, they might see a curious sight. Countless tiny lights, a distant but brilliant blue, swarming outside Midgar like fireflies. Whether in the Valley of Ruin or around Kunad Highway, they shone and propagated in a strange ethereal dance, until finally they too disappeared.
A short time after dawn, the elevator in the hallway of the SOU building’s sixth floor opened with a ding, and Sandalphon stooped in order to step through, her halo softly clanking against the doorway. In one hand she held a large brown paper bag, its top folded over into a roll, and in the other she held a suitably gigantic coffee. It had originally been over thirty ounces of ice cold, pitch-black liquid, injected with far too many squirts of sugary flavoring and then covered with a massive dollop of whipped cream drizzled with the archangel’s favorite food, honey. She’d drunk half of it just getting back here from the coffee shop, and though her face betrayed nothing, her eyes were bright. She strode toward the main meeting room, and upon entering, she found Goldlewis already there. The movement near the hall made him look her way, so she nodded her head in greeting. “Good morning.”
“Good…morning.” At the sight of Sandalphon, Goldlewis raised his eyebrow. Probably for the same reason, neither had shown up today in their original outfits, but there were slight differences. The veteran’s new getup was almost just like his original garb, albeit less tattered, torn up, and bloodstained. His suit was also blue, worn over a white shirt with a black tie. Meanwhile, Sandalphon was still wearing her original coat and shoes, but after freshening up prior to her errand she’d clearly helped herself to the free formal wear in the office closet. There was just one problem: even the largest set was far too small for a woman of her height and proportions. She hadn’t let that stop her, however. Somehow she’d squeezed herself into a collared white office shirt that hung just below her chest, with sleeves that went down as far as her elbows, and black pants tight to the point of straining that barely passed her knees. She’d taken several belts as well, wearing two around her waist, one to keep her shirt in place, and one around each thigh. To anyone else that might have seemed excessive, but outfits with lots of belts were common in the veteran’s world, too. Sandalphon’s black tie completed an ensemble that left her pale midriff almost completely exposed, and Goldlewis momentarily stumped.
“I brought some food for everyone. Hopefully it will be enough.” Sandalphon unrolled the bag and brought out a box of muffins, including blueberry, pumpkin cream cheese, banana nut, and so forth. She also brought out two handfuls of honey packets, presumably for use as condiments. She then stared at Goldlewis, her pupils turned to question marks. “Hungry?”
The smell made up the veteran’s mind for him. “Starvin’.” He scooted his chair back to get up, but after noting which muffin he was looking at, Sandalphon brought it to him instead. He sat back down, scratching his head. “Awful nice o’ ya, ma’am.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I was initially concerned that my early arrival might be imposition on the staff at the cafe, but they turned out to be very hospitable.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Goldlewis muttered before taking a bite.
Sandalphon continued as she seated herself. “One man almost fell as he rushed to help me, in fact. While his excessive haste almost resulted in disaster, I can definitely applaud such dedication to efficiency.” She conjured a screen, which she monitored as she carefully took a honey packet and opened it in a single deft movement. Then she began to eat the honey. “Mm.”
As he chewed, Goldlewis furrowed his brows, but only once he swallowed did he begin to speak. “Beggin’ your pardon, but…aren’t ya gonna spread that stuff on somethin’?”
“No need. Honey is packed with nutrients and can be used in any dish. It is nature's perfect material,” Sandalphon told him, her pupils in the shape of hearts.
“...Er, well. Can’t argue with ya there.” Goldlewis couldn’t help but laugh to himself at the ridiculousness of a conversation on the morning of such an important battle, which neither he nor Sandalphon had even remotely touched on. Given how many steps ahead she seemed to be, the veteran wouldn’t put it past her to avoid the subject on purpose to defuse tension.
Soon after, the reason for Luka’s apparent absence resolved itself, as the young man teleported onto the helipad outside with both Raz and Roxas. “Whew!” he gasped, sinking to the ground. “That…was a lot of jumps!” Given the distance involved, and the inherent risk of teleporting, he’d jumped through hoops to reunite the two with their team. “There’s something going on with the OSF,” he relayed between breaths. “Yuito, Hanabi, Lili…they’re meeting Gemma, Nagi, and the others. I’ve gotta go with them…once I get my strength back. Once we figure out what’s going on, we’ll back you up!” He hung his head for a moment, steadying his breathing. “I…I couldn’t have taken everyone, anyway. But at least you’re all back together!” With a little help he made his way to the meeting table, where he happily tucked into one of the muffins. “Oh, you’re a lifesaver.”
Eventually, the other Seekers all gathered in the meeting room, much like many of them had several days ago. The team had seen some big changes since then, but everyone was ready. This would be the first Guardian that Goldlewis faced, but to others this was just another day of being a hero, nothing serious. So in this brief calm before the storm, they ate, drank, and spoke in piece. Giovanna was among the last to arrive. “Ooh, muffins,” she observed, taking a big bite she washed down with the last of the coffee from the machine. Just as Sandalphon seemed to be taking a page from Gio in the fashion department, Gio took one from Goldlewis, in that she’d exchanged her attire for a near-identical getup, though hers was a fetching khaki and red. After a few munches, she looked around the room. “So, we gonna go kill this Guardian thing, or what?”
Sandalphon nodded. “Yes. Before we do, though, there are a few things I should bring to everyone’s attention.”
After draining the last of her coffee, and wiping foam from her lips with a napkin, Sandalphon stood and cast her arms wide to summon a huge, jumbled array of divine screens. They worked together to display a single stitched-together image: that of a gigantic cherry blossom tree, vivid pink in full bloom as it towered over a tangled mess of roads. “This was the landmark tree yesterday.” Then the image changed, becoming a dead, gray, wizened husk, the roads around it carpeted with fallen petals. “This is the tree right now.” Next, she displayed an image of the Valley of Ruin. As those who’d ventured there had seen, it was a fallen metropolis completely reclaimed by nature, filled with grass, huge trees, and thick, healthy roots. When she showed the current view, however, it looked bleak and desolate, a lifeless expanse of gray wreckage and dead wood.
“This happened at some point during the night. I believe these to be the culprits.” On her screens appeared a number of strange, insectoid drones. To Pit, Zenkichi, Susie, Blazermate, and Giovanna, who sat up straight suddenly, these machines were still fresh in the mind. “YoRHa unit 2B captured one and brought it to Vandelay Industries early this morning. Mr. Macaron was kind enough to put in some overtime and discern its function. They are magitech, unlike the technology of Midgar but rather like the technology of my own world, and they are built to siphon something from living things. The full extraction of which seems to be fatal.”
Giovanna nodded, an unusually serious look on her face. “That’s what happened to those guys who went into the Valley with us. I’ve seen them before, but never so many…”
“If they could do that to those plants in one night, I don’t even wanna know what they could do to Midgar,” Goldlewis ventured, his hands clasped in front of his mouth pensively. “You got anythin’ else? Why’s this happenin’?”
For a moment, Sandalphon was silent. “...Soon after awakening this morning, I dispatched 9S with a flight unit to patrol around Midgar. Since then, I have received intermittent reports about activity in the Sector 06, 07, and 08 undercities. Panic, preparation, and emergency protocols. Twenty minutes ago, while I was getting coffee, 9S reported that his scanners picked up a large enemy force approaching from the Valley of Ruin. Several times larger than the force in the battle against DespoRHado that I oversaw two days prior, and composed of higher grade units. For whatever reason, I believe the Machines are making an all-out assault on Midgar. If my calculations are correct, they will arrive within one hour.”
“After the thrashing we gave ‘em the other day?” Giovanna asked in disbelief.
“Shit. You ain’t kiddin’, are you? Shit, shit, shit!” Goldlewis fumed. “Right after Vandelay and DespoRHado beat the tar outta one another, Neuron got gutted, and Karen split the OSF in half. It’s the goddamn perfect storm. What’re we gonna do?”
“What you were already going to do.” A harsh, unfamiliar woman’s voice issued from a dark gateway that manifested in the room. From inside, a hooded figure in black robes stepped.
Goldlewis stood reflexively, tense and ready to take action against the surprise intruder, but he realized that he recognized that voice. “Wait…you again?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m Xatow. I met you on my return flight to Midgar. I’ve been hiding in the Valley of Ruin until now, unable to enter Midgar lest I be found out and hunted down. But now I have no choice, so listen up.” Xatow crossed her arms. “Your enemy’s name is Nox. He’s gonna attack the city, but killing people isn’t what he wants. His goal is the same as yours: the ‘source’. Midgar’s Guardian. So you, o Seekers of Light, better haul ass. Nox is coming, and he’s gonna have to fight through a lot of people, not to mention a bunch of your friends, but if they can’t stop him, and if he reaches the Guardian before you do, your goose is cooked. Got it?”
As he reeled, flabbergasted, Sandalphon was already in motion. Her screens disappeared, and she picked up her new rifle from where she left it and inspected it to get a grasp of its workings. “Since this timing cannot be coincidence, I assume this Nox is the mastermind behind at least some of what has befallen Midgar as of late. I don’t imagine he’s working alone.”
Xatow shook her head. “Something like this takes friends on the inside. So watch your backs out there.” She looked around at everyone imploringly. “And get moving, will you? If you all get killed, I’m gonna have to find some new heroes.”
Goldlewis huffed, indignant. “Don’t count your chickens before they've hatched there, hoss. I reckon these heroes’ll get the job done just fine.” He took a deep breath and lifted up his coffin. “Well, this is a helluva thing to wake up to. At least we got ourselves a darn good head start.” He began to make his way toward Midna’s twilight portal. “Let’s mosey.”
For everyone but Sakura, Pit, and Midna herself, the subterranean interior of Midgar’s city computer Arahabaki was a brand-new sight. The grandeur of this immense, bizarre, highly artificial amalgam of advanced technology and Shinto aesthetic was awe-inspiring, but the Seekers didn’t have time to look. Thanks to their method of travel, the Twilight Princess needed to facilitate each journey through the shadowy realm, so getting everyone here was a step-by-step process. As a result, the new arrivals couldn’t possibly hide outside of the cameras’ gaze forever, and all too soon Arahabaki’s internal security systems picked them up. An alarm resounded through the enormous space, and as soon as they were all present and accounted for, the Seekers got moving.
Rifle in hand and coat streaming behind her, Sandalphon hurried along toward the rear of the pack, while the thundering steps of Goldlewis led the charge. Since the only way off of this ornamental overlook was the teleporter pad that shone and hummed on its ceremonial dias, the Seekers charged into it one by one, not sure where it would take them but sure that they’d do whatever it’d take to finish what they had started.
Soon after finding Rayne, several more of the ragtag bunch showed up. Out of everyone present, Lewa figured that Sanae and Saria probably had the least to worry about given their remarkable abilities, so he wasn’t surprised to see both of them in good shape. Not that he understood anything about their biology, but their body language indicated no particular pain or distress, so he assumed they were fine. Of course, that wasn’t everybody, and their presence here begged the question of what happened to the others. Hopefully they were okay, too.
Lewa sighed, allowing some of the tension that weighed on him in the battle’s aftermath to fade. As one might expect of a random assortment of strangers suddenly dumped in an unfamiliar land against their will, this ‘team’ lacked any semblance of unity. If that one Raven Herald had been as powerful as her actions and manner suggested, he might have been in for a lot more trouble than the one called Varst gave him, and could he have relied on any of these temporary allies then? That said, he knew he couldn’t be too picky. Though the Toa Mata were a de-facto team, its members squabbled plenty, their relationships filled with ups and downs. Unity was not something hard-wired into their minds; they’d had to learn what it meant and how to achieve it for themselves. He’d just have to do the same for these people, despite having much less in common with them, if that was what it took to get home. To survive.
Speaking of survival, there was the matter of this town. The Raven Heralds might have withdrawn, but things were far from happy here. These organics needed help. Lewa couldn’t heal, and if fact none of the Toa Mata could, but he figured he could help with search and rescue. Physical strength was his brother Onua’s department, but even at a baseline Lewa was made of much sterner stuff than the average human. Plus, his winds could smother and extinguish the remaining fires. With a plan in mind, Lewa got to work at a brisk pace, his attitude cheerful and offhanded as he tried to reassure -and then show- the townsfolk that things would be alright. His axe proved to be indispensable for cutting through obstruction and blockage to make sure that every building that had fallen prey to the Heralds’ assault was scoured for trapped or hidden survivors. The more the toa worked, the more he stirred the winds, gradually chasing away the deathly atmosphere and acrid smoke that hung over the village to give its people a fresh lungful of hope.
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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