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
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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.
Reflecting back on the events of the final day in the Emerald Forest, it really did strike Gru as quite funny. There he’d been, taking stock of his cheese stores after his dealings with the woodsmen and Granny Siri as he tried to lay plans, when the word finally came that the crisis was over. While never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Gru had been more than a little curious. Could all of the misfortune and pestilence that had plagued the Pilgrim’s Caravan from the moment they set foot in that green hell really be swept away, just like that? He’d been so far removed from the front lines of the conflict that it actually took a fair bit of asking around just to figure out what happened. Of course, when he happened upon the jovial giant Galaxor, he’d been only too happy to regale the cheesemaker with an exuberant -and perhaps embellished- account of his adventure. As it turned out, that small band of warrior-types he’d briefly seen gathering for an expedition had not only survived their excursion out into the hateful woods, but also discovered an ancient barrow home to all manner of undead abominations. Yet those brave souls managed to hack and slash their way through the shambling wights to find and finally depose their skeletal overlord, the source of the malign influence, from atop his accursed throne.
All while Gru had been counting cheeses and petting rats. Remarkable as that story was, though, that wasn’t all that transpired while the merchant languished in the stalled caravan, awaiting some form of salvation. People joined and left the Caravan all the time, albeit typically in less dire circumstances, but the new face that tagged along with Althuwin and Malleck turned out to be quite the anomaly. Pepper’s scouting party did return to him in quite the tizzy, charged with inexplicable excitement, but the cheesemaker probably wouldn’t have believed them even if they could tell them what they saw. A beastwoman, emerging from within a meteorite that had fallen from the stars? It beggared belief. Nevertheless, Gru thanked his lucky stars that was all that happened. Although he scarcely dared to imagine, he figured that much worse could descend from beyond the sky than an angry woman with bestial ears and tails.
Between heroism and mystery, magic and mayhem, so much had happened just out of sight. Some might regret missing out on all the action, but not Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg. He was, after all, a simple salesman. What business did a mere merchant have with investigating the supernatural, or quelling evil? That stuff he happily left to the mystics and mercenaries. A quiet, entrepreneurial life was all Gru wanted, and with the problem solved, the cheesemonger could finally get on with it.
Would that he could say that the Caravan moved on to greener pastures, but nothing was greener than the Emerald Forest. Instead the legendary wagon train, with its navigator Althuwin at the forefront, made its way through arid badlands to the tractless expanse of a sun-scorched desert. For once Gru didn’t complain, as much as he would have preferred pastoral grasslands and peaceable cottages. Anything was better than the Emerald Forest, and the land of the Dinnin was far from an untamed wilderness. Rising above stone and sand were absurdly colossal structures that stood tall and proud beneath the blazing sun as magnificent testaments to the clans’ indomitability. This powerful cabal of dwarves and beastmen was no mere collection of zealots; they were master architects, master producers, master traders, and master warriors. Gru did not dislike the Dinnin, necessarily, but when dealing with them one needed to be both careful and thoughtful. The awe-inspiring heights to which their civilization had risen went hand in hand with the knowledge of what they did to their enemies, and not just in self-defense.
With this knowledge in mind, he rode along with the Caravan toward the majestic hold of Clan Buraq, growing ever closer to the citadel that blotted out the sun and painted the desert with its shadow. Given the heat, he’d stocked up on plenty of water for his rats, and ensured that they’d work shorter shifts in the Chuck Wagon’s wheels. No matter how huge his horde might be, even a single casualty due to harsh conditions was unacceptable. Thanks to the road, though, the going wasn’t too tough, and Gru was in relatively high spirits today. Lesser desert civilizations might have nothing but a few camels, whose milk stubbornly resisted all attempts to be converted into cheese, but the Dinnin had tamed this land. Beyond the city walls lay sprawling farms with all manner of livestock, including plenty of sturdy cattle with huge upturned horns, their splotchy hides painted like the pelts of the Ainok. Gru might be most interested in those, but he couldn’t help but be awed by other local creatures, and none were more awesome than the Mûmakils. One look at those titanic beasts was all anyone needed to realize just how formidable the Dinnin war machine was.
Once the Caravan came to a stop, Gru stepped out into the dry heat, clad in a much lighter, looser version of his usual attire. He sized up the area where the convoy had come to rest. Business would be best inside the Hold itself, but such prime real estate was the territory of the entrenched merchant caste, and not available to outsiders. Still, he knew he could make a killing even out here, whether selling to other travelers who couldn’t penetrate the Hold, or to the soldiers of the military encampment nearby. An army marched on his stomach, after all. Before he could rake it in, however, Gru needed a surplus. He’d purchased what milk he could from small farms on the way over, diverting from and then catching up to the Caravan, but now he could really get down to business. It was time to stock up and make some magic happen–metaphorically, of course.
After setting up and locking down, Gru and his rats got moving. For now, tourism could wait. Carried on a chair by his rats like an emperor on his palanquin, the cheesemonger sped between the outlying farms with his wide-brimmed hat doffed and his purse strings loose. It took money to make money, and though Gru was averse to debt, he was willing to spend his bottom dollar if he felt sure about an investment. When it came to establishing friendly relations, this was one businessman who could go all-out, and nothing spoke louder than cash. Plus, riding around with all his rats made for quite the strong first impression. He worked to secure deal after deal, shaking hands and signing agreements, and once the first canisters started rolling in, Gru sequestered himself in the Chuck Wagon to begin making cheese.
This RP seems very interesting and I'm very tempted, but four would probably be too many RPs for me for now. I'll keep an eye on this though and read what you guys write. Looking forward to seeing what's in store.
Although he hadn’t hesitated to ask this small stranger for help, Lewa didn’t expect her to do what she did next. After providing him and Rayne with a rather grandiose introduction that confirmed some sort of shared origin with the one who called herself Sanae, Remilia decided to throw her lot in with the two of them and help expedite their search and recovery. To Lewa, that was a welcome surprise.
Back home on the island of Mata Nui, it was true that matoran didn’t always get along, and the different tribes might have different ideas of how to best serve and protect their people, but the differences and disagreements between matoran never escalated into conflict and strife. They were, after all, one body, one family of brothers and sisters bound by the virtues of unity, duty, and destiny. Even their leaders, the wise and venerable Turaga, had once been a part of the same team just like the Toa Mata were now. Life on Mata Nui wasn’t easy, what with dangerous rahi and now the Bohrok hordes, but the matoran lived in relative harmony with one another. In this world, that wasn’t the case. In the brief time Lewa spent here, he’d seen people fighting and killing one another without a second thought. Helpless villagers slaughtered by their own kind. It boggled Lewa’s mind, and he could only assume that was just how things were here. As such, encountering a friendly and helpful stranger in this world helped shore up Lewa’s spirit a tiny bit. Maybe these organics weren’t all bad.
Now a trio, the seekers descended the dark, treacherous stairs to find the source of the infant’s cry that Remilia identified. As they went, Rayne shed some light on what exactly they were looking for. "I see. Thank you," he replied, nodding sagaciously. Small people...growing like plants? What a novel concept. Since he lacked the vampire’s sense of smell, Lewa put his trust in her to lead him through the dark, his hand never far from the shaft of his axe. The others could disappear into the darkness down here, hiding in the same shadows that could shroud unknown threats, but between his glowing eyes and heartlight Lewa knew he was a prime target should anything be lurking in the gloom. Instead of hidden enemies, however, the three found a body, stained with the red fluid that by now Lewa associated with the loss of life. “Oh no,” he murmured, echoing Rayne. As unfamiliar with medicine as he was with organic biology, he could only assume that the poor woman was already dead. At least it seemed like the ‘infant’ could still be saved, but just the thought of telling Marcus about his wife’s demise brought Lewa great anguish. What was he going to do?
Given the circumstances, he couldn’t help but be baffled by Remilia’s carefree attitude. Did this loss of life mean nothing to her, either? Only when she took action did Lewa begin to realize he might have been mistaken. He watched, perplexed, as she did…something…to Elaine. After a moment, she declared that the woman would be fine. Lewa stared between the two in silence, his wide eyes saying just like that? It seemed impossible, but then again, it was just another in a long string of impossibilities. Lewa decided not to question it. It seemed like Remilia had been right: these villagers really were fortunate that she’d been here. The toa didn’t want to think about how this would have ended if only he and Rayne reached this place, so rather than fret about the past, he began thinking about what to do next.
“Excellent!” He clapped his metal hands, his infectious joy lighting up the dreary underground space. “We will have happy-good news for Marcus!” Just as he went to pick the humans up so that he -being the biggest and strongest of the three- could carry them back to town, Rayne reminded him that she could just teleport everyone right back to where they started. Though the door down here did make him curious, he saw no reason to prolong the villager’s reunion. “Our task is complete. Let’s not linger-wait a second longer!” he urged the others. “Whatever damaged the wife could return at any moment, after all.”
Groaning, Nadia hauled herself upright into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes. As a thief who did her best work by night, sleeping in was one of the few comforts she could afford to routinely indulge in, and once she’d passed out she did like getting dragged back into the waking world prematurely. This was way worse than usual, though, and not just because another long day of constant exertion had left her totally pooped. It felt like she’d been struck by a flashbang. Or maybe this was how divers hauled up too fast from the depths felt? Then again, what little she’d heard about barotrauma suggested excruciating pain rather than dizziness and mental fog, so maybe not.
Either way, it took her a few seconds to collect herself and get her bearings. Dream or not, her experiences in the last few minutes had left her shaken. Chucho, who’d been hanging back away from the action, came to cover her face with big, slobbery licks, which made Nadia feel a lot better. The images of milk-white flowers, boundless cloudscapes, and blinding lights ebbed from her mind, doomed like all dreams to fade and be forgotten. As the fantasy receded, Nadia remembered who and where she was, her eyes blinking open to rediscover a dark underground vault full of broken stonework and crushed chaff. With the awareness came the soreness and fatigue, accumulated throughout the day and weighing on her now that her adrenaline was gone. By now, her healing factor had definitely slowed down. “Oww,” she murmured, rubbing her head. “No more fighting today, purretty please.” Around her the rest of the Seekers, more or less beaten to hell by the back-to-back fights with the Jailers, Ten Piedad, and finally Robin Goodfellow.
Speak of the devil, or archangel in this case, she couldn’t see Robin anywhere. Sure, everything was still a little bleary, but she figured that a being of that size must be hard to miss. Instead of Robin, her search turned up a patch of whispering root, freshly sprouted from a large bed of ash. “That wasn’t there before,” Nadia said to herself, slowly standing for a better look. The leafless branches joined together to form a thicket, eerily similar in shape to a large body curled into a fetal position, its head laid against its knees. Next to the roots lay the thick, magical-looking tome used by Robin in the first phase of the fight, haphazardly splayed out on the ground. Nadia crouched down for a closer look. “Ars…Gouda?” she read, one eyebrow raised. After picking the book up and closing it properly, she glanced at the others. “And here I thought we left all the cheese puns back by Pizza Tower. Un-brie-lievable.”
Also nearby was a conspicuous keyring, glinting silver in the fickle light of the few candelabras that went untouched by the battle. Always on the hunt for treasure, Nadia also quickly found the mask fragment Robin had been wearing. “Hehe. All that just for this,” she remarked with a wry laugh. Never in all her life had a fetch quest demanded as much of her as this one. “Please tell me that’s all of ‘em.”
With so much fighting, though, it was easy for her to lose track of what she was fighting for. “Wait, wasn’t there supposed to be something else?” As she tried to fix her tangled hair, Nadia took another look around. It looked like the warframes had fallen asleep the same as everyone else, but Oberon and Titania had yet to rise. In fact, they weren’t moving at all, and though their damage didn’t look lethal they showed no signs of life whatsoever. At the same time, they hadn’t been reduced to spirits, either. Weird. After another moment, Nadia snapped her fingers. “Oh wait, yeah! That thing the little squirt said we needed. The dreamcatcher! Robin didn’t have it.” Perplexed, she flicked her tails, her eyebrows furrowing. “I kind of assumed he would. What now?”
Before the Seekers resumed their search, though, Nadia did have one insight to share. While scanning the room she’d noticed the symbol on the section of ground that had risen up when Robin made his dramatic entrance, the red ring with a white downward arrow, and she wasn’t the only one who’d seen it before. “Check out that symbol. It was in King’s Station, and this station-looking place in the mall Jesse and I found. We met a talking crab with a wizard hat who said we could use the train to travel between all the stations.” As she spoke, the feral got more animated, her excitement palpable as she reached her logical conclusion. “So once we’re done here, we can ride back up to that town we arrived in! I dunno about you guys, but I’m dying for some fresh air. So that’s what I’d choo-choo-choose.”
Other than the subway entrance, this room had no more secrets, so if the Seekers meant to find the dreamcatcher it would probably be found back in Mercy Dreams. Armed with the silver keys, they retracted their steps to find the prison somewhat different than the way they left it. Before it had been quiet, but not silent, possessed of an eerie, trancelike calm as the whispers of prisoners yet to wake formed a subtle chorus, unnerving chorus. After Robin’s death, what remained of the captive populace had stirred from their pleasant dreams, and now the halls where jailers once patrolled now resounded with the anguished tortured cries of those whose wondrous fantasies had given way to cold and dark, pain and isolation.
To Nadia, this merciless, dreamless prison was downright horrible. It did remind her, though, that she had business that she needed to attend to. Leaving the task of recovering the dreamcatcher to the others, she excused herself and made her way to the third layer. There were still a couple illuminators scattered around the fourth layer, but all the mindflayers had been cleared out from this one, so Nadia had nothing to worry about. Other than the howls of the damned, of course. Chucho stayed close, growling at the doors, and Nadia tried to shut out the noise as she made her way to a certain cell, one of the silver keys in her hand.
When she arrived, she pressed her ear to the door, but heard nothing from inside. She took a deep breath and rapped on its surface. “Minette?”
“Nadia!” The Dagonian’s voice, typically cheerful and bubbly, sounded close to tears. “You came b-back!”
“Of course!” Nadia put on a brave face. Minette couldn’t see it, of course, but it wasn’t for her. “I know you’re a waitress and everything, but I figured you’d waited long enough!”
She heard a helpless giggle behind the door. Or was that just what she wanted to hear? “Thank you, Nadia. For always c-coming to my rescue. For always being there when I need you. You’re the best friend I could ask for.”
That one really tugged at the feral’s heartstrings. Were those really tears, coalescing in the corners of her eyes? How long had it been? Swallowing, Nadia pushed them back, and began to toss her key up and down in her hand. “Hey, it’s my pleasure. Listen, I’ve got your one-way ticket to freedom right here. How about we bust this bad boy open and you say that to my face?”
“Huh?” Minette sounded surprised. “Well, uh, can’t we t-talk a little longer?”
“Sure.” Nadia spun the key one last time, then caught it in her palm and leaned against the door. “We can talk when you’re out of there. Right?”
For a moment, Minette hesitated. “I-I-I…” Nadia heard her take a deep breath. “I, well, it’s just…I can’t explain it, but I’ve got this terrible feeling. That if…if you o-open that door, then something terrible will ha-happen. I…I might never see you again.”
Nadia stared at the floor. Chucho whined, pressing against her leg. “Like this is too good to be true? That you’ll wake up from a dream, and forget everything?” When Minette didn’t respond, she shook her head, her lips pressed together in quiet anger. “It’s because you’re not her.”
“Not her?” Her friend sounded confused. Worried. “H-how could I be anything but…but me? I remember everything. Good times and bad. My dad. Yu-wan and the restaurant. Little Innsmouth. Getting kidnapped. And you, Nadia. All the times we laughed and cried.” She paused. “It’s dark in here, but when I look down, I can see my hands. When I pinch my arm, it hurts, but I don’t wake up. I’m hungry, and cold, and alone…” She raised her voice suddenly. “Please, don’t leave me! I’m your best friend. I’m Minette!”
Nadia sank down to the floor, sitting against the cell door, and sighed. “That’s why it really, really sucks that you’re not real.”
A couple seconds passed before the voice spoke again. “Are you?
A shiver went down Nadia’s spine. “What?”
“You’re telling me my memories aren’t real, or my body, or my feelings. Well, what about you? You have memories. You can see yourself. Feel yourself. What's the difference between you and me? What makes you so sure that you’re real? That the real Nadia isn’t out there somewhere, and when she wakes up, you'll vanish like you never existed?”
Nadia inhaled sharply. Then she stood. “Well. For starters, I can do this.” She inserted the silver key into the lock, and it clicked, fit like a glove.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Minette’s voice was shrill with panic. “Please!”
The door swung open, and a chill swept over Nadia’s body. Chucho growled, his ghostly hackles raised. Goosebumps covered her skin, and every hair on her body stood on end. Her heart quickened as she stared into the darkness, but there was nobody there. The cell was empty except for a cracked mirror, showing Nadia’s broken reflection. Looking at the woman depicted within, she barely recognized herself. Still, after everything, it was her. And only her.
After a moment, Nadia exhaled, the surge of emotion gone. “Now that’s a bad joke.” Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she turned and stalked away through the prison.
Somewhat to Lewa’s surprise, the poor man relented in the face of Rayne’s suggestion, putting aside his feelings on the matter to accept the little witch’s reason. Consenting to a one-way trip back to down courtesy of Rayne’s teleportation ability guaranteed (or at least, reasonably assured) his safety, but it also left Lewa without his guide through the woods or much to go on in his absence. Wife…hair…child…all words I definitely know. Uncertainty had plagued the toa the moment he involuntarily set foot in this alien world, but right now he felt it more keenly than ever. At least the crisis in the village could be resolved by axe swings and air blasts, inasmuch as he could resolve it, considering the Raven Heralds decided to leave. Now someone’s safety rested on his ability to parse the unknown and find a lost person. Lewa took a deep breath. Would that he could draw strength from being in his element, but these temperate woodlands had less in common with the humid jungles of Le-Wahi than he would have hoped.
Still, it was his duty to help those in need. Lewa nodded a moment after receiving Elaine’s description, holding his splayed hand over his chest just beneath his glimmering heartlight. “Never fear, Marcus. We will see your ‘wife’ home safe!”
When the villager vanished, Lewa was left with nothing but Rayne, the rain, the trees, and the whispers of the wind through their boughs. Though typically outgoing and chatty, the toa knew when to hold his silence and listen close to what guidance the winds could give him. To someone who knew how to listen, the currents that flowed through and pored over every facet of the world had a lot to tell. But if these winds had anything to say, their words were not his own. No voices filtered through these trees, nor the sounds of a struggle. Well, no matter. Bearings or no bearings, Lewa had a job to do. “Yes, it looks like we’ve got our work laid out for us,” he told Rayne, his tone jocular despite the clouds hanging over their mission. “Let’s pick up the pace!”
Lewa moved quickly, utilizing his Kanohi mask to make himself weightless and leap across great stretches of ground at once. He swung between the branches and sprang between tree trunks, annoyed and at times hindered by the ease with which the wood tended to buckle beneath his weight. Every so often he paused to listen and scan his surroundings, but no voices reached him. Reasoning that the organics couldn’t have gone too far, he did not go too far in any one direction, but instead focused his search around the various desolate ruins that littered the forest. Most of them seemed too barebones to serve as any kind of shelter, so he zeroed in on the ones that seemed to be the biggest, or in the best shape. Eventually, the duo’s efforts bore fruit. When they reached a collection of sinking, eroded masonry that once stood tall amongst the forest giants, Lewa finally heard something. Crying might not elicit the same inherent biological reaction in him that it did in mammals, but the pitiful sounds of distress told him that there was something at the bottom of those stairs that needed saving. “Not a moment to waste-lose,” he said aloud. “Let’s get to the bottom of this!”
Before either of them could, Lewa found himself confronted by another tiny organic biped. The few that the toa had seen during his search-and-rescue in the village had all been drab in appearance, and terrified, but this one was neither. She seemed languid, with striking colors, and in a way she reminded him of Lily. One thing was for certain, though: nothing about her was light brown, and she wasn’t carrying anything but splotches of the same red fluid that leaked from slain organics. The searchers had found someone, but not who they set out to find.
Remilia broke the tension by saying something that Lewa understood very little of. When she said ‘green’, though, she probably meant him. Rayne took initiative before he could, expressing concern and then mentioning that yes, she and Lewa did know Sanae. She hadn’t been the one to send them on this mission, though. “I am Lewa, Toa of Air,” he informed Remilia, hoping to clear up any misconceptions about his identity. “We are looking for a wife named Elaine, and something called a child. To help-bring them home safe to Marcus, who is alive and well! Have you seen them?” He eyed the murky shadows beneath the ruins, anxious to see where -and to who- these stairs led. “We were just about to venture down there in hopes of save-finding them.”
While both Sandalphon and Geralt were smaller, they still made the most of long strides as they left their battleground with the business team behind. Despite her inclination to check in with the other teams and confirm their status, the archangel suppressed the urge to reach out to them for now, since she could not discount the possibility that some could still be fighting. If they needed her for guidance or emergency healing, they could always call, and she drew some comfort from the fact that none had. Only when Roxas and Goldlewis contacted her first did she engage in communication, though she couldn’t be as helpful as she would have liked.
Other than that, she left the Seekers undisturbed. As a veteran correspondent, she knew just how disastrous an innocuous distraction could be when paired with the worst possible timing, and no matter the battlefield, it paid to assume the worst. That said, she had no reason to doubt her new allies’ capabilities so far. Those she fought alongside in Zone 09 last night, as well as above the Neuron headquarters in Veles, had proved themselves quite capable. Once she completed an operation with the whole crew she’d have a much better idea of where they stood in terms of competence, and how she could help even the odds. Although, with the fight against Midgar’s guardian just around the proverbial corner, the time for constructive criticism had probably passed.
Of course, she and the others hadn’t reached the big, bad boss just yet. Sandalphon doubted that Arahabaki’s security system would place any intruders right next to its core, so everyone had a lot of ground to cover before they reached their final battle. The archangel and the Witcher navigated across the archipelago of elevated computer modules, and the unpredictable conveyor bridges that connected them, as fast as they could. As they gradually approached Arahabaki’s center, the different pathways began to coalesce like river tributaries, growing closer and finally connecting. Though Sandalphon paid attention to where she was going, she kept a sharp eye out for any of the others. This meant that when a few of her allies finally appeared -an elegant woman with distinctive ringlets of long blonde hair and a young man with angels’ wings- she spotted them immediately. Reaching up, she pinched one of the mouthpieces that dangled beneath her halo between her thumb and index finger, then held it up to her gray lips.
“Pit, Karin, do you read me?” she asked. “We’re on your right. I’ll jump so you can see us.”
Using Vault, she flung herself into the air, then began to slowly float down. This also gave her a chance to survey the array of modules up ahead, and her all-seeing eyes mapped its layout in an instant. “We’re getting close to the center. I see a possible rendezvous point up ahead, just in front of a large staircase. Let’s reconvene there.”
After another minute, different conveyor bridges brought the two pairs together on top of a tall, octagonal module. Though most of the spiritualistic decorations around Arahabaki belied some mechanical function, this particular tower seemed more like an actual rest stop than anything, with benches against the railings on the sides without bridge connections and a strange artifact floating in the middle that gave off a soothing blue light. When Geralt and Sandalphon got close to it, the beacon shimmered and topped off their health through unknown means. “How useful,” the archangel murmured, appraising the others’ condition. “It looks like we’re all in good shape. We met with some resistance on the way, but as you can see we were able to claim victory and subsume their power.” It turned out that Pit and Karin managed to get here unopposed, if one didn’t count turrets, lasers, and mines as opposition. “We’ll continue together then, but please stay alert. It’s very unlikely that we’ve seen the last of what Shinra has to throw at us.”
It did not take long for Sandalphon to be proven right. When the four set off, they climbed the massive staircase leading off from one side of the rest stop, which led to a much larger, higher-up module nearby. Since the area where she wound up featured a below-average elevation, Sandalphon was grateful for more of a vantage point with which she could get a grasp on Arahabaki’s layout. Climbing the stairs took some effort, but when she and the others reached the top, they found themselves on a large square module. Very tall, ornate computer towers stood on its four corners, greatly resembling pagodas. Along the railings between them were poles that supported drooping arches of bundled red cables, giving this area a particularly ceremonial look, like some sort of festival ground. As far as the archangel could tell, this mega-module appeared to be some sort of processing center, one of three that ringed Arahabaki’s central pillar if she had to hazard a guess.
Her speculation came to an end, however, as a loud noise from Arahabaki’s ceiling high above signaled another emergency deployment. When she looked up, Sandalphon spotted the first of three more drop pods headed her way. In a few moments, this place would become an arena. “Incoming hostiles,” she warned the others. “Prepare yourselves for escalation.”
After another moment, the drop pod slammed down, its bright green thrusters flickered out, and its doors slid open. This time the carapace did not release another team of four, however. Instead a familiar man could be seen inside, idly rolling a silver coin across his knuckles. After a moment he flicked it with his thumb, the steely ting ringing out across the silent festival grounds. Then he caught it in his palm and stepped out from inside the drop pod with a ghastly, red-eyed, purple creature at his heels. Hideous teeth bared, it trotted alongside its master, its collar connected to him via an arched energy beam. The man ran a gloved hand through his stylishly coiffed blonde hair as Darkstar bared his teeth. “You’re the same group from last night, aren’t you?”
“Rufus Shinra,” Sandalphon said flatly, one hand on her gunstaff and the other ready to reach for her rifle. “I’m honored.”
“Yeah, you should be honored. It’s not every day I welcome visitors in person.” He coolly inspected his foes for a moment, then gave them a wry smile. “Still, I’m a busy man.” Darkstar snarled, and as Sandalphon pulled out the Eye of Sol, Rufus whipped out a beefy carbine that he split into two guns, training them on his foes. “Let’s make it a morning to remember.”
Goldlewis and Susie exited the fortress-like walled module and proceeded across a winding bridge, which at least had the good grace to not convey the two backward. This one traced a serpentine path up, down, and around the open air, snaking between several stone monoliths. The veteran had to admit that even with some of the strange places he’d been to over the years, this one really took the cake. Its construction and aesthetic, so culturally identifiable and yet so alien at the same time, just struck him as incredibly surreal. Like some artificial intelligence had studied Japanese architecture, then attempted to recreate what it had seen. This supercomputer, he knew, stored the knowledge and facilitated the communication of an entire civilization, and he wasn’t just seeing it, but walking and fighting on it. If he wasn’t on a mission, and this place wasn’t so dangerous, he might have liked to wander around for a while just to absorb the brainchild of whatever demented creativity created this place. Unfortunately, he and the others had a job to do, and they could neither dilly nor dally.
While riding the conveyor, he did take a moment to tap the glyph from Sandalphon in order to contact the Seekers’ coordinator. “Come in, Halo.”
“This is Halo,” Sandalphon replied immediately, still happy to use the codename from yesterday. “What do you need?”
The speed and intensity of her response made Goldlewis chuckle. “Oh, nothin’, we’re fine, I’m just checkin’ to make sure y’all are too.”
“Oh.” For a moment, the archangel sounded genuinely taken aback, which involved more emotion than Goldlewis was used to from her. Just as he suspected, she was more used to being the one who considered others, and not the one who received consideration. “How thoughtful. Geralt and I are well, thank you. Be advised that we did both undergo fusion.”
“Gotcha,” Goldlewis replied, spotting some turrets up ahead. “Over and out.”
He and Susie bashed through the next section together, taking turns to demolish various turrets with their long-distance attacks. They seemed to be set up in the form of a gauntlet to funnel enemies through choke points in order to accumulate maximum damage, but neither of them planned to play by the defenders’ rules. Once they dealt with that, the two continued through the chain of technological ‘islands’, past heat sinks that radiated overpowering warmth, storage vats of emergency coolant, and all manner of gizmos styled after Shinto shrines. They even found a bright blue gizmo floating inside one of the shrines that healed them when they approached, and though that meant that the bacon agaric might have been unnecessary, the existence of health-restoring checkpoints in Arahabaki was useful knowledge to have.
Aside from the turrets, mines, and a few other rather optimistic methods of keeping out intruders, the trip toward the pair’s destination went smoothly. A little too smooth for Goldlewis’ liking, in fact. He reckoned that this must be the calm before the storm, since he couldn’t possibly imagine that the people thrown his and Susie’s way were the extent of Arahabaki’s resistance. Part of the way through his journey to the center, Goldlewis caught sight of movement in the distance, and after slowing down for a better look he realized who he was looking at. Nobody would wear that much black, or a collar that high, other than Zenkichi. Despite his lack of peripheral vision, he and Sakura had evidently trounced their opposition and even gotten ahead of their less speedy allies. “Hey!” Goldlewis bellowed, waving his free arm as he barreled across a ceremonial courtyard. “Wait up!”
The four quickly came together, exchanging brief accounts of what they’d run into. It sounded like Zenkichi and Sakura ran into a fully-kitted team too, albeit one composed of unscrupulous scientists rather than soldiers and war machines. It also sounded like they’d managed to get through with less fatalities, although Goldlewis wasn’t sure whether or not he should count Jack-8 and Jacqueline for the purpose of that comparison. Regardless, a win's a win, and with more battles sure to come the four could be that much more certain of future victories by working together.
Scarcely had they come to that consensus, though, before enemy reinforcements were dispatched. More pods rained down from on high, and with his crew Goldlewis closed in on the nearest one. If the reinforcements turned out to be another team of four, this would probably go more smoothly than last time, but by that same logic Goldlewis figured that this couldn’t possibly be another team of four. They had already proven themselves, and it was onto the defenders to up the ante. And once the pod came down and opened its doors wide, Goldlewis was proven right.
Strangely, the man who exited the pod didn’t look like a fighter. Of average height and build, he sported a brown goatee, sideburns, and well-combed hair, and he wore a navy blue suit casually over a simple white shirt. To both Goldlewis and Zenkichi, however, this was no ordinary businessman. No, he was Akira Konoe, head of Public Security for the Shinra Administration and the second most powerful man in Midgar, higher in station than either Truman Zanotto of Psych-OSF or Rufus Shinra, boss of General Affairs and the president’s own son. His ordinary appearance belied a staggering amount of authority, not to mention history. For Zenkichi, this also happened to be a man who’d almost brought Japan to its knees, nearly succeeding in establishing his dominion over the minds of every citizen with the power of the collective consciousness.
“A warm welcome to the terrorists and traitors who’ve been sabotaging Midgar in its darkest hour,” he declared, wasting no time. “As if crushing Vandelay, crippling Neuron, and tearing the OSF in half weren’t enough, now you’re here to take Arahabaki, the beating heart of our city’s infrastructure. Its life’s blood! It’s because of you that we don’t have the manpower to keep Midgar safe. Working with murderers like Jena, and psychopaths like Karen. How many must die before you’re satisfied?” He raised his fists. “Well, your rampage stops here. In the name of justice, I have vowed to exterminate evil!”
At that moment, something huge fell from the sky, hitting the ground with enough force to send out a shockwave that knocked the Seekers over. Goldlewis hit the ground with a grunt, the wind knocked from his lungs, and as he struggled to fill them he raised his head and saw a huge machine of black, white, gold, and red. Konoe was walking toward it, speaking as he went. “There are no real heroes left. So…why not make our own?” As he climbed a golden staircase of hard light toward the machine’s cockpit, gilded silver armor constructed itself on him piece by piece. “The world needs someone willing to fight for its people’s justice. A hero to lead them, to unify them. A hero like me!”
Konoe took his place at the machine’s controls, and its lid closed as the Seekers rose. With titanic tread the Zephyrus Mech plodded forward, shaking the ground with every step. It lifted its fists, tightening them with grand determination as it projected Konoe’s voice. “And if I’m the hero, that makes YOU the villains!”
With the help of their respective wolves, Giovanna and Midna left the technological rock garden in their rear-view mirror. After wrapping her arms and legs around her mount’s neck and sides respectively, Gio awarded herself a much-deserved break and let Rei take over, relaxing in her green fluff as she bounced along to the tune of padded footpaws pattering across plastic. The two were spiritually in sync, after all, and the same bond that allowed them to fight like one being let them navigate the treacherous obstacles of Arahabaki’s module network with barely a word between them. Though Midna’s changed form burdened her twilit wolf more than usual, the shadowy beast managed to keep pace as the duo progressed toward their goal. Naturally the duo didn’t pick the right path every time, or get through the hazards unscathed, but their speed and agility meant that they were never waylaid for long. Still, Giovanna couldn’t rest easy; this infiltration was far from over. Sooner or later, she knew, the other shoe would drop.
First, though, the two had a happy accident. Without meaning to, they stumbled right into another pair of Seekers lost in the maze. Rei and Giovanna’s sense of smell helped facilitate the chance encounter, but Gio couldn’t say for sure (and Rei couldn’t say, period) who they’d run into until they met Blazermate and Roxas face to face. The reunion took place at an intersection of bridges, in a sort of large gazebo, where metal lanterns shone with immense amounts of data. “Oh hey, it’s you.” By now, Gio knew very well what the medabot was capable of, and after Rei pulled up alongside the team healer to make things easy. “Patch us up?”
Once the last traces of the fight against Erendira’s firing squad had been smoothed over, the four could get going together. The team-up went without question, and with Arahabaki’s core construct looming over an increasingly dense array of interconnected modules, it didn’t seem much longer until they’d run into the others too. Before they could reunite with the other teams, however, the Seekers’ luck ran out.
More drop pods fell from Arahabaki’s ceiling, though half as many this time compared to the first wave. Giovanna couldn’t help but wonder if that meant whoever was orchestrating all this had traded quantity for quality, but she didn’t want to jinx it. The first two pods fired off in quick succession, and after a moment’s delay the third began to descend as well, which happened to be the one headed her way. “Yeahhh, I figured that was too easy,” she complained. The pod descended to the module just ahead of her crew on the path they’d be forced to take. Gio sighed and slid off Gio onto her feet, where she jumped up and down to stretch her legs. “Well. Guess we’ll go and say hi.”
The four rode the next conveyor bridge and arrived at the largest module they’d seen yet. Situated pretty close to Arahabaki’s main pillar, it looked like a large pavilion, decorated with all sorts of artificial flora. Some appeared to be bundles of cables, wires, and so forth bound together in an approximation of plantlife, while others were just holographic. Power lines bound with red cords were arrayed like thickets of bamboo, and there were pagoda lanterns with vivid lights that hummed like bug zappers. In the middle of this pavilion stood a round bed of ‘grass’ around a huge, fake tree whose practical purpose could not be discerned, with a foot-thick braid of cable wrapped around its trunk. By now the drop pod had already landed, crushing one of the techno-flowerbeds. As the Seekers watched, it opened, and a burly man stepped out. At first glance he didn’t look like much, with a standard collared shirt, slacks, and yellow tie, accompanied by thick-rimmed glasses, a receding hairline, and plenty of blemishes. This was not just any man, though, and his frame proved it. ‘Swole’ didn’t do him justice; his clothes seemed liable to burst apart at any moment. Moreover, Giovanna knew his name, and anyone who’d paid any attention at all during the presidential debate would, too.
“Huh! So this is what Arahabaki looks like!” The musclebound politician commented, one arm supporting the other’s elbow as he held a smoking cigar. “Not bad! A little phony for my tastes, but I like the spirit!”
For once, Gio actually looked surprised. “Armstrong? The hell are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me…were you secretly working with Shinra all this time?”
Armstrong turned, seemingly noticing the four for the first time. His lip curled in a smirk. “Hah. Don’t be stupid. I’m here for a little business. A hostile takeover, you might say. As a matter of fact, I just got done tearing the president in two.” Grinning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a mote of prismatic light that could only be a spirit. When he held it up, Gio could just barely make out the face of a mustached man inside. More obvious were the bloodstains on Armstrong’s fingers, poorly wiped off. “...With my bare hands!”
Faced with that revelation, Giovanna found herself lost for words. Shinra, dead? The most powerful man in Midgar, and the architect of the current state of affairs, killed by his rival with neither publicity nor fanfare? Gio blinked rapidly, shaking her head for a second, then put her arms akimbo. “Huh. Out with the old, in with the new, I guess?”
“Oh yeah.” Armstrong laid his fist against his chest. “Shinra was a coward, and a weakling. A chicken-shit bureaucrat, hiding away at the first sign of trouble, and that limp-dick cabinet of his is just as bad. Midgar needs ACTION, not words. Strength, not committee! All that work setting up a damn police state, and they can’t even crush a couple tin cans. Pathetic! So I’m draining the swamp. In my Midgar, the weak will die, and the strong will survive to live as they see fit.” He spread his arms wide, as if before a crowd. “To fight and kill for themselves!”
Gio held up her hands appeasingly, more than a little concerned. “Whoa, whoa. You oughta save, uh, gems like that for the campaign trail, mister. The tin cans are out there, you know. Why are you in here?”
“Right, that!” Armstrong pushed up his glasses, then crossed his arms. “Well, right after I got done with Shinra, I saw he got a little message. So I patched it through, and I saw everything going on down here. Including you people. You know, this whole draining-the-swamp thing would be a lot easier if I still had DespoRHado around to get their hands dirty for me.” He glowered at the Seekers. “I was watching, you know. I saw ‘em all get trashed during the raid yesterday, thanks to you punks and that angel bitch. So I figured I’d come on down and help myself to a nice big breakfast of revenge, served cold!”
Armstrong pounded his fist into his palm strong enough to send off a wave of air pressure as his hands turned jet-black, their veins bright silver. He cracked his knuckles, grinning. “So let’s start cracking some eggs!”
"Six bits," Siri scowled. Most bakeries, that would get you six loaves of bread, or six ales from an alewife.
"Oho, an appraisal?" Gru acted surprised, but inwardly he was already chuckling. When it came to the art of haggling, Siri would find that this cheesemonger was no amateur. She no doubt thought herself wiser and more discerning than the average customer, stubborn, suspicious, a shrewd dealer, and nobody's fool. Well, everybody thought that, so in truth she was exactly the same. Negotiation was like a timed game of cards, a race against the customer's patience as both parties played their hands in turn. Flattery, downplay, theatrics, aspersions, compromise--nothing was off the table. Gru had an ace up his sleeve, though: only he knew what this product was really worth, and in trying to seize the initiative, Siri had made a serious faux pas. It was on the vendor to set the starting price, not the buyer. If this crone thought she could wrest control away from him, she was going to get the business.
"Well, madam, I've dealt with my fair share of highway robbers, and let me tell you, I've gotten better prices from them! At least do me the courtesy of inspecting my wares before you lowball..." He snapped his fingers. A gang of his rats, who'd already retrieved the gouda in question, hurried forward. As one held the parcel wrapped in eye-catching crimson velvet, the others worked together like cheerleaders to toss the carrier up so he could dunk the cheese into Gru's waiting hand. "Thank you, darlings." He unwrapped the cheese, allowing Siri to see what she'd be buying. It was half a wheel, medium-sized, the cheese a pale yellow encased in summery orange rind, both of which contrasted nicely against the darker, richer cloth.
"Ahh, yes. That color. That aroma! This is an artisanal cheese, you know," Gru explained, using gestures to aid his speech. "And I do save the best for myself. In its pristine state, I'd price it at twenty bits easily. But since I'm in a bind, and you're clearly not to be trifled with...let's say it's half off. Just ten bits, now that's a steal, eh?"
"That's not a wedge," Siri sniffed, glaring suspiciously at the half-round. "I don't want all that. Four bits for a third."
"Hm?" Gru scratched his chin. Well, that was one way to simplify things. He could do worse than four bits for a sixth of what had originally been, in truth, a twelve-bit cheese at most. He did not save the best for himself, after all; that was just poor business sense. Some might call it cheating to charge more for the lesser part of something, but that was just basic supply and demand; the less of something there was, the more valuable it became.
Still, none of that changed the fact that the Siri's price for a wedge of cheese had dropped by one third, and that left a bitter taste in his mouth. "What's this? A peek at the goods, and your offer goes down? The cheek!" With pursed lips and narrowed eyes, he crossed his arms. A moment later he raised his finger, as if he'd gotten a brainwave. "Well, look at it this way. If you're willing to pay four for a third, then ten for three times that is a bargain! You can never have too much of a good thing, you know. And my cheese keeps. "
Siri glanced down at the cheese critically, taking in its appearance, then turned to scowl back at Gru.
"I don't have time for this," Granny stated. "I asked for a third of that, not a half-round of cheese I'd have to carry with me! If you're not interested in giving me what I'm asking for, then I shall have to go without. Good day!"
She turned with a huff, clearly offended.
"Now, now, whoever said I wasn't interested?" Gru interjected, an apologetic look on his face as he held out one hand beseechingly. "Surely you can't begrudge a desperate merchant's attempt to upsell. Here, here." He produced his personal cheese knife, and with a single expert cut he parted one third of the half-round from its two fellows. "If I must, I must. One wedge of gouda. Four bits."
Siri turned, watching as he sliceed the massive wedge from the half-round, then handed over the four bits from her belt pouch.
This would be a month of eating for her, saving the rind for the soup pot. But then this wasn't for her, was it?
"Thank you, Gru," she said grudgingly, slipping the massive wedge into her basket with the other things. "You coming to services on the day of rest?
After stowing his knife, the cheesemonger snapped his fingers. His rats accepted Siri's payment on his behalf and raced her coins back to his lockbox on the Chuck Wagon, along with the remainder of the gouda wheel, bound for its resting place on the dry storage shelf. This transaction did not please him. He did get twice what he figured that piece of cheese would actually be worth, but her initial offer of six convinced him that he could get more. In the end, he lost even that. It seemed that when the years piled up, old folk didn't just grow hard of hearing, but also deaf to reason. Well, no matter; this was a learning opportunity. He would dial down his perceived level of Siri's patience, and dial up his efforts to be accommodating.
Starting right now. "I see no reason to refuse. Are we not all wanderers, after a fashion? As a man of business, I'm keenly aware: it pays to pay our respects." He held his palms upward in a show of openness. "Yet who knows what tomorrow might bring. We may well die of plague or thirst before this blasted wagon train gets moving again." He hung his head despondently.
"We are all but dust in the wind," Siri intoned, then offered a cookie from her basket. "May you soon receive what you seek the most, in His will."
Wouldn't that be nice. Right now, what Gru sought most was milk. As goals went that was more attainable than most, but as long as the Pilgrim's Caravan remained in this accursed Emerald Forest, his simple desire might as well be a wish upon a star. After a moment, he gingerly accepted the cookie with a wry smile. A price of zero needed no negotiation. "And you as well."
Given what day it is, and the fact everyone's working on either the Same Old Story or Arahabaki collabs, there won't be any update tonight. Merry Christmas!
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.”
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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