Lugubrious

World of Light

Arahabaki

Level 6 Goldlewis (148/60) Level 5 Sandalphon (74/50)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Sakura and Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double, Giovanna
Word Count: 1072

Once scattered by Arahabaki’s teleportation trap, the Seekers wound up on the very tips of the furthest branches of the vast subterranean computer network’s forked paths. Gradually, however, they’d worked their way inward, navigating their way past the trips and traps of the elevated maze. They pushed their way through the emergency response crews, getting ever closer to the towering pillar that dominated the area’s center. In its vicinity the different module chains coalesced as they routed into three main processing centers, where three quartets of the heroic intruders faced off against their stiffest competition yet by way of two Shinra Administration big shots, and a surprise interloper in the form of Senator Armstrong. Yet even they could not bring the Seekers’ story to an end. Though it took a lot out of the three teams, they claimed victory over some of the staunchest opponents that Midgar had to offer, and stepped onto the final set of bridges -these ones through tunnels of torii gates- to be conveyed toward Arahabaki’s final destination.

The three bridges converged at a large, trapezoidal module attached to the central column itself. Among the teams arriving there, the one in the worst shape by a country mile was Goldlewis, Zenkichi, Sakura, and Susie. With no team medic and only modest sustain at best, they’d been forced to slug it out with little more than their own sturdiness for survival, so Blazermate and Sandalphon were sights for sore eyes. Everyone in Midgar knew the name of Public Security’s head, but maybe nobody other than Zenkichi knew what Konoe was really capable of until today. First with the Zephyrus mech and then with his own two hands, Konoe had put his challengers through the wringer, and Goldlewis was only too happy to trudge on over to Blazermate for treatment. “Hoo, boy,” he breathed. “Outta everyone I figured we might run into on our way down, I did not bet on Konoe, lemme tell you what. Gave us a real lickin’.” He stretched out his shoulders as the medabot tended to his wounds. “Whew. Whatever that healin’ stuff is you got, it sure does a body good.”

Sandalphon hadn’t expected Konoe either, and while it sounded like her comrade’s quarter had a rough go of it, things hadn’t been much easier on her end. “We received a guest of honor as well. Rufus Shinra, here to finish what he started last night, perhaps.” She paused for a moment as she recalled the night’s events. “Come to think of it, we should be ready to engage with one or both Consuls at any point. I cannot imagine they will allow us to destroy their Guardian.”

“That’s what I’ve been wonderin’,” Goldlewis told her, his brow furrowed. “It was a Consul that told us the way down here to begin with. Dunno why, he sure seemed like the shit-stirrin’ type, but we’d be fools to write him off.”

With that, Sandalphon could agree. Normally she’d be more inclined to analyze after a fight to see what could be learned and optimized from the experience, but she figured that Rufus Shinra was a once-in-a-lifetime opponent. For now, then, she focused on what came next. The Worship Hall was extremely cluttered with technological equipment, all funneling toward a circular area in the module’s center. Countless nodes, prongs, and other doodads seemed to be arranged in a rough dome shape, strung together with braided cords and hanging circuit boards like talismans. Beyond lay a huge doorway covered by a bright blue wall of light that shone and sizzled like it was one hundred percent energy, and in the circle’s center -the most dramatic spot possible- sat one man that everyone ought to recognize by now. With that distinctive combination of fur-collared overcoat and silvery mask, together with the ears and tail of a jackal, Karen Travers was unmistakable. He was sitting in a meditative position, but by the time the Seekers approached, his deep red eyes were open.

“Karen,” Goldlewis muttered as he came to a stop at the head of the pack. “Wondered when we’d see ya again. You ain’t here for a fight, are ya?”

The Psych-OSF’s Septentrion First Class stood, stared for a moment, then shook his head. “...No.” When the Seekers seemed surprised, he decided to elaborate. “We’re here for the same thing, after all. The answer. The source. The secret behind the Administration’s power, and the instrument of this city’s subjugation. Once we have it, we’ll be able to set everything right. Back to how it should be.” He shrugged. “Besides. One against twelve? I don’t like those odds.”

Sandalphon narrowed in on one thing he said. “So it’s close, then? The Guardian?”

“Yes,” Karen replied, half-turning to look at the doorway. “So near, and yet, so far.”

Stepping forward, Goldlewis narrowed his eyes at the wall of light. “What’s this, then? The…we got told the way’s impassable.”

“You were told correct. Unless you happen to be one of very few VIPs, this wall will atomize you the minute you touch it.” Karen reached down and lifted a steel lockbox from where it sat behind him while he’d been meditating. Out of everyone here, only Sakura, Midna, and Roxas had seen this sturdy-looking box before, shackled to the corpse of Truman Zanotto before he turned to ash the night before. It had never been recovered; evidently it had found its way here.

Karen walked past Goldlewis toward the wall of light, then set the box down and sent it sliding across the floor with a kick. The veteran watched, baffled, as the lockbox slid closer, on a deadly collision course with the security field. Just before touching it, however, the wall blinked out. Just like that, the way was open, without Roxas even needing to try his luck.

Turning, Karen beckoned the Seekers. “After you.”

When the Seekers proceeded, Karen didn’t move to join them, instead watching them head in. Before passing him, Goldlewis paused to give him a skeptical stare. “What’s your angle, partner? You sounded mighty interested in whatever’s down there.”

Karen nodded, his arms crossed. “That’s true. However, you all have a better shot of getting there than I. Backup is on the way, so I’ll wait until then.”

That didn’t really satisfy Goldlewis, but he knew he and his team couldn’t afford to delay. “If you say so.”

Dystopiascape

The Salvage corps detected it first, though for a little while the discovery preceded a hasty check and more thorough recheck of their equipment. Nobody, after all, wanted to believe what they saw. Yet the long-range scanners did not lie. Lead Engineer Clarke immediately began to make some calls, starting with the Sector 07 militia, and the order went out to start getting ready. Those in the know tried to keep things quiet in a vain attempt to suppress the panic, but they knew better than everywhere that there was no salvaging this situation, and word quickly got out. Within five minutes, sirens were ringing out across the slums to signal an all-too-familiar state of emergency. Within ten, citizens throughout sectors 06 and 07 were sounding the alarm in Deep-Paris and Detroit. Up above, the police and guards of the plates must have surely heard the terrible din, but no soldiers were dispatched. Up in the City of Glass, Vandelay Campus lay dormant, crippled, a tough nut to crack thanks to all the robots that lingered there but unable to take any action. To the east, Detroit lay defenseless without DespoRHado, its cyborg remnants scattered and its android corps vanished. What remained of Psych-OSF and Peace Preservation lay quietly in wait. No help would be coming.

The people of the undercities began to act, disorganized and frenzied by fear. Some hunkered down, taking shelter wherever they could. They prayed that out of every rock that would soon be overturned, their enemies might happen to overlook theirs. Some took up arms and rallied, heading to the undercity walls with all the weapons, armor, and vehicles they had. This was the rainy day that every prepper had saved for. But most of the citizens fled, taking to the streets en masse with their families to flee northward however. Cars and buses got overrun, train stations swamped. People were trampled. It was chaos.

It wasn’t long before people could begin to make visual confirmation on the enemy force. The Machines were marching from the desolate Valley of Ruin beneath a stormy sky, less a rain and more a flood. Compared to this army, the force dispatched two days ago looked like cannon fodder, assembled from tin cans and children’s toys. For starters, there were plenty of robotic beasts, the same sort seen -and typically avoided- in the flooded district, from apelike Clamberjaws to terrifying Widemaws to vicious Snapjaws, along with the towering Tallnecks that sustained the Machines’ communication network. There were plenty of bipeds, shooters, and life-sucking noxin drones, but today the Machines were fielding a plethora of new units, practically alien in appearance and heavily armed. Primarily quadrupedal, these war machines came in two varieties. White and blue war machines like Loudmouth, Halo, Spread, and Duelring featured built-in shields and tech weapons so futuristic that their function was difficult to make out. Meanwhile, the black and red models were biomechanical-looking monstrosities with bloodthirsty behavior and strange gimmick weapons, like Cucumber, Sunbather, Scarf, and Porter. Even among those horrors, there seemed to be elites. Like Chatterbox, a titan with the stance and muscles of a gorilla, and Sinister, an aerial weapons platform capable of threatening Midgar’s plates. On spiderlike legs strode a mobile fortress in the shape of a gigantic clock. And through it all plodded not one but three immense Engels, their saw-arms swinging in anticipation of destroying Midgar brick by brick.

Eventually, the Machines’ march stopped in front of Midgar, and from the ranks strode three humanoid figures. Two of them looked simultaneously very similar but very different, twin brothers with contrasting styles. Adam and Eve walked out ahead of their brethren with confidence, the former wearing fancy clothes and the latter half-dressed in the garb of a berserker. Other than their looks, the brothers had one thing in common: that they didn’t look at all like robots. That couldn’t be said for the man who followed behind them, though. Half mummy and half machine, he strode with unblinking eyes and unwavering purpose. Never once deviating from the path ahead.

In front of Midgar, the city’s defenders had gathered. Without the Administration’s support or DepoRHado’s muscle their numbers paled in comparison, but what they lacked in quantity they made up for in quality. Neuron’s finest were here, including Jin Wong, Alicia Lopez, Alan King, and Marie Wentz, led by Maximillian Howard. So too were the remnants of the Hermits and Zone 09, from Mudrock to Wind Chimes to Mudtooth, and not even Karl was missing this party. The bravest souls of Sector 07 were here, not just Isaac Clarke and the other scrappers but the militia as well, including Cloud, Tifa, Barrett, and Aerith. Even Clara and Svarog stood amongst them, ready to defend their new home. On the other hand were the plucky bunch of misfits fresh from Vandelay Campus: Chai, Peppermint, Macaron, and Korsica. A number of armed civilians joined them, interspersed with various heroes who’d come to lend their strength to Midgar’s defense. With little more than 808 and Hal’s drone around for support, this ragtag bunch stared down the Machine horde and its leaders, waiting for the inevitable.

Eventually, Cloud broke the silence, leveling the Buster Sword at the twins and their masked companion. “Well, say whatever you’re gonna, and let’s get on with this.”

“You’re definitely brave, throwing your lives away like this,” Adam remarked offhandedly. “I’m eager to see what makes you tick.”

His little brother Eve grinned wildly. “Well, what’re we waiting for? Let’s play!”

“Just a moment.” Nox spoke in a highly mechanical voice, not to mention a strong French accent. He stared at the gathering of heroes, then up at Midgar. “Last night, my noxins drained every drop of Wakfu from every living thing in this region, from the smallest mouse to the largest tree. After all these years, I finally have enough. I do not need your lives, and you need not throw them away. It is all inconsequential. When I succeed, none of this will have ever mattered. I will undo it all.” Nox paused, then sighed, hanging his head. “I know you don’t believe me. I just thought you should know that if you insist on dying, just how little it will matter.”

Chai stepped forward, standing beside Cloud with his scrap guitar raised. “Uh, not gonna lie, you’re preeetty scary! But if we’re trading ultimatums and all that, I guess you should know something too.” He grinned. “That you’re underestimating the people of Midgar.”

From within the army of defenders, a balding man in a green suit with purple hair stepped forward. “Now!”

Hundreds of eyes turned skyward as a huge number of darkly-dressed figures leaped from the Sector 07 plate high above. They hurtled downward through the air, then grabbed onto their pods to slow their falls and land around the defenders. YoRHa had arrived in all their glory, weapons at the ready and spearheaded by a handful of androids in Flight Units, with none other than 2B and 9S at the forefront. At the same time, the psychics with Transport powers embedded among the militia stepped forward, activating their abilities. Orange fields appeared in the air, and a moment later dozens of Psych-OSF defenders appeared from thin air. Yuito, Hanabi, Luka, Gemma, Kasane, Naomi, Arashi, Shiden, Kagero, Tsugumi, and all the rest had arrived, joined by Septentrions Second through Sixth Class: Fubuki, Sasha, Milla, Seto, and Kyoka. It was Crenshaw who enacted the final, desperate measure: a delivery straight from the heart of Supernatural Life, a squad of intelligent Other Weapons under the command of Peach.

Together they all formed a united front against the Machines, a lot beefier than the paltry resistance presented moments ago. Even still, Eve cackled with laughter. In a move rather similar to Chai, he magnetized a load of surrounding scrap to his body, creating a huge metal arm. “Bahahaha! Now THIS is more like it!”

“Oookay,” Chai muttered, still pretty overwhelmed. With his friends at his back, however, he wasn’t about to throw in the towel. “What do you say we take care of Mr. Shirtless?” he called over to Cloud.

The Soldier brandished his blade at Adam. Barret, Tifa, and Aerith stood ready to fight alongside him. “We’ll handle the fop.”

“Hmph,” Adam smiled, pushing up his glasses. “Then allow me to witness your deaths firsthand.”

“I’ll leave this to you two. I must conserve my energy.” With that, Nox teleported away, retreating to his mobile fortress. In his wake, man and machine clashed in a bid for Midgar’s future. The final battle of the Ever Crisis had begun.

Deep Ground

Inside Arahabaki’s core, the Seekers found a long, arduous descent through predominantly magitech facilities, a jumbled nest of sophisticated power stations (including more than one thrumming miniature reactor), laboratories, and workshops, winding every which way but ultimately leading downward. In response to the intrusion a lockdown had been enacted, so instead of any employees the Seekers found more of the turrets they’d encountered in Arahabaki and handfuls of easily-dispatched Vandelay robots. The road they took led them to not one but several lifts, all carrying them deeper underground. With no serious challenges in the team’s way, the tension seemed to mount, building up the further they got underground. Finally, after what seemed like forever, a sliding door opened to reveal a huge, dark hallway, lined on either side by row upon row of large, ominous red pods

Of course, that paled in comparison to what lay beyond the hallway. On the other side, the black and red gave way to overwhelming, brilliant green. There lay a circular room of incredible proportions, reaching much higher upward -and much, much further down- than the hallway itself, the whole thing filled with a staggering abundance of brilliant green energy, so thick in the air that one could practically taste it. “Is that…mako?” Goldlewis breathed, dumbfounded. Over the green void reached a long bridge that terminated at a large industrial facility, covered with tanks and pipes.

And as the Seekers approached the end of the long hall, an entity blipped into existence above the bridge. It was simple in appearance, yet oddly terrifying. Five curled fingers and a featureless white glove–to those who had seen it before, there was no mistaking it, nor what it represented. It was Master Hand.

Right afterward, a nebulous purple energy began to coalesce on the bridge in front of it, and a second later Consul Y warped in. Though his face was hidden, he gave off the distinct impression of furious indignation, as if utterly vexed by the fact that the Seekers had gotten this far. “...You got close, I’ll give you that,” he told the intruders after a moment. “Very close. You even took some of my best pawns. Replacing them will be tiresome. But I’m afraid this is checkmate.”

Just then, the pods (now mostly behind the Seekers) began to burst in quick succession, and from within dozens of women began to emerge. Some wore full armor, others no more than barebones undersuits, but all appeared to be exact copies of one another–not to mention the police officer that some might know as Akira Howard, with her short brown hair and severe expression. Goldlewis and Sandalphon both remembered seeing her die last night, however, shortly before the fight against Jena Apotheosis that also claimed her brother. Yet here she stood, several dozen of her at once in fact, and every single one of them held an X-baton like she’d been born with it. Not only that, but when they held out their hands, red legions of all kinds -barely visible to the Seekers- manifested beside them. These weren’t just cops, but legio, born and bred.

“Officers,” Y called out, raising his voice. “...Arrest them.”

The Under - Leaving Mercy Dreams

Level 13 Ms Fortune (78/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double
Word Count: 1803

After leaving the empty cell behind, Nadia just wandered the jail for a little while, no particular goal in mind. Were anyone around, they would have seen an unusually listless, morose-looking Ms Fortune, but for now her teammates had spread out through Mercy Dreams again. They were tying up various loose ends throughout the miserable jail, either collecting the all-important Dreamcatcher or delving into various cells. In theory Nadia wouldn’t have minded taking another crack at a cell to see what was inside, whether for the chance of good loot, stress relief, or cutting into the prisoners’ ghastly racket, but right now she just couldn’t muster up the energy. Awakening after the battle with Robin had shown her just how tired she really was, and then her little chat with ‘Minette’ drained the rest of her vigor right out of her. After that joyless, short-lived reunion, she just felt angry, lonely, and more than anything, cold. By now, the chill of this inhospitable place had seeped through her skin and into her bones. The poor feral wanted nothing more than to feel the sun on her skin again. Nadia made her way back down to the fifth layer, where she waited for the Seekers to reconvene, reconstructing the facade of the smiley, jocular Ms Fortune who could never be hurt again.

Once everyone finished attending to various matters in Mercy Dreams, the team met back up in the cavernous cell where Ten Piedad once slept in the statue’s arms. Now that stone woman lay in pieces, and the whole area had suffered the consequences of the subsequent fights against Ten Piedad and Robin Goodfellow. Withered, thorny briars had torn apart the trails of tile and left treacherous snares behind, while bullet holes from Jesse and the warframe’s firearms could be found everywhere. Most of the dead flowers had been reduced to chaff, some of which still smoldered with radioactive flame, and as the heroes headed toward the train station Nadia found herself staring as the desiccated flora. Though those memories were fading, she could still picture the lumenflowers from the dream world, eerily beautiful in full bloom. In front of her were nothing but long-dead husks, yet in that mysterious place, the flowers lived on in splendor. Could Robin have continued on in there, if the Seekers didn’t slay him in the dream, too?

When she and the others descended the steps inside the dark doorway beneath the ringed arrow, they discovered a station very much like the ones she and Jesse saw in the Home of Tears and in Falldown Mall. It featured a primarily dark green tile floor, interspersed with patterned tiles in the same beige as the walls. Shiny steel formed both the railings and the bars over the two gateways, a simple portcullis over the human-sized one and then interlocking bars over the much, much bigger one. And just as Nadia had come to expect, she could see a Magikrab waiting dutifully by the smaller gateway. This place wasn’t exactly hospitable, but at least it wasn’t flooded and dripping like its Home of Tears counterpart, and for once the feral couldn’t detect that eldritch, anathematic feeling that radiated from the depths of the other stations. “Guess that freaky aura disappeared with Robin,” she reasoned. Given her run-in with the nightmarish Nowhere Monarch back in King’s Station, and what the Magikrab in Falldown Mall said, she had to assume that other ‘archangels’ like Robin lurked in the Under’s other stations. Hopefully she and the others wouldn’t have to find out.

“Over here,“ Nadia piped up, heading over toward Magikrab. “We gotta talk to this dude. Don’t worry, we’re pals. Two peas in an arthro-pod.” While she’d originally assumed that these stations were all home to identical magical crabs, she distinctly remembered what the last one told her: that they were actually all the same crab. Which was weird, but compared to everything she’d seen today, that revelation was small potatoes. “Hey li’l guy. Can we ride the train?”

The crustacean clacked its pincers together eagerly. “Of course!” Its voice was whimsical, childlike, and far too peppy for a place like this. “Now boarding at Platform B. Just ring the bell, and wherever you want to go is just one stag ride away!”

“Great.” Nadia waited a beat, then crossed her arms. “Well, where can we go? Somewhere nice, I hope?”

“Why, they’re all nice in their own unique ways. Just like people!” After a moment of silence, Magikrab cleared its throat. “Well, let’s see…we’ve got Glowcester Road, Mournington Crescent, Falldown Mall, King’s Station, Queen’s Station, Bard Street, Aldgrave Tomb, Cherry Cross, Dirtmouth, and Night’s Bridge! Any of those sound good?”

Nadia listened to the options, scratching her head until she heard a particular name. “Wait, Dirthmouth? Ain’t that the village where we ended up after comin’ from the Metro?” It had been a few days, but the name sounded familiar.

“That’s right, the one and only terminus on the Stagmer-line above ground!” The Magikrab stepped to the side, and with a grinding sound, the grate over the small passage slid upward.

The feral let out a sigh of relief. “Ohh, thank goodness. I’ve been dying for some fresh air.” She jogged through the gateway, waving for the others to follow along. “C’mon!”

On the other side of the tunnel, the Seekers emerged to see a small, somewhat dreary train platform of a familiar style. It featured stonework formed from interlaid bug shells, hanging signs inscribed with unfamiliar symbols, and plenty of wrought iron in the form of elegant, spiked railings. Poles topped with glass globes of lumaflies bathed the area in stark white light, including the faded brass bell that hung by the platform. Down below, there were no train tracks, just a stretch of earth running off into the gloomy tunnels on either side. “Well, here goes,” Nadia chirped, ringing the bell. “Man, I can’t wait. Hope it’s not a slow-comotive, eh?”

Right away a distant rumbling began, and after a moment the Seekers’ transportation pulled up to the platform. It wasn’t a train, but a procession of giant, mustached stag beetles, each outfitted with a set of chairs that would allow two passengers to ride comfortable. The first one gave a gruff grunt, staring down at the unfamiliar creatures in front of it. “Well, what’re you waitin’ for?” he grumbled, kneeling down. Behind him the others followed suit. “All aboard!” So this was what the Magikrab meant by ‘nice on the inside’. Smiling, she climbed up and seated herself, legs crossed and ready for a ride.

After another moment, the stags were off, bearing the heroes onward and upward through the fathomless bowels of the Under.

---

Somehow the trip didn’t take that long, despite the distances involved, and the moment the stag came to a stop at the station Nadia knew that she’d seen this place before. It felt like longer, but just two days ago she and many of her teammates had arrived via the other track, arriving from the Metro through one of those giant cat flaps on a physics-defying train pulled by an enormous orange feline. She remembered that lift against the far wall, slowly but tirelessly rising and falling. Just like last time, she didn’t plan to wait for it. As tired as today left her, the excitement of returning to the surface world at long last cut through her weariness and filled her with gleeful energy. After gathering herself she leaped right off the stag before it could kneel down. “You guys are the best!” she called back, hitting the ground running. “Stag-geringly good!” Already able to feel traces of fresh air, she leaped and jammed her claws into the wall, finding purchase in the grooves between the shells. As fast as she could, the feral scrambled up to the ground floor, raced through the quiet longhouse, and pushed through the front doors to set foot in Dirtmouth, the Fading Town.

Even in daylight Dirtmouth had seemed desolate, a shell of its former self with its best and most prosperous days far behind it, but at night it gained an oddly somber outlook. Its strangely-shaped buildings, carved from materials unknown to mankind, loomed like tombstones over a graveyard where countless dreams and ambitions had quietly come to rest. The lumafly lamp light dispersed through the banks of mist to cast pale across the rounded walls, making the wrought-iron fences and benches cast pitch-black shadows. Only the aged Elderbug with his heavy cloak and sad-looking mask gave Dirtmouth any signs of life at all. Despite all this, Nadia couldn’t be any happier. She closed her eyes, filled her lungs with crisp mountain air, then slowly let it out. While she and the others had returned too late to feel the sun’s rays, the sight of starry heavens after so much time underground still did her a world of good.

“Oh, my,” the Elderbug murmured, shuffling over to the new arrivals. “Good evening, and welcome back. If visitors are a rarity here, it’s even rarer to see those who’ve gone below return.” He shuddered, and the fronds of his cloak ruffled softly. “When the crane broke, I feared the worst.”

Nadia smiled. While they didn’t really know each other, she couldn’t help but like this ancient insect. He gave off such a grandfatherly aura. “Nice of you to worry, but never fear. We’re ‘trained’ professionals.” She headed over to the edge of the cobblestone pathway, taking in the impressive scenery for the second time. In front of Dirtmouth, the ground fell away, leading down into the gargantuan spiral basin known as the Chasm, ringed by immense stone serrations and glowing amber outcrops. The moonlight shone down on yellow grass, gnarly trees with faded red leaves, and various sets of mining equipment laid down after a hard day’s work. Beyond the jagged upper ring of the Cavern lay mountains as far as the eye could see, stretching out beneath the night sky. It was good to be back.

After another moment, she turned back to the Elderbug. “Don’t mean to trouble ya, but is there anywhere we could crash for the night? We’re pretty much dead on our feet.”

He nodded. “Almost all of these houses are long since empty. I cannot guarantee that they’ll be comfortable, but they’re yours.”

His words were music to Nadia’s ears. After a long day of traveling, fighting, and even dancing through some of the weirdest and wildest locales the Under had to offer, it was finally time for the Seekers to get some well-earned rest.

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Lewa

To the great misfortune of both the rescuers and the two they rescued, it turned out that Rayne could not simply magic everyone back to the safety of the village. Though naturally curious why this might be the case, Lewa assumed no dishonesty or ill intent on the witch's part and didn't plan to press her further, but she went ahead and explained her reasoning for the others' benefit. The toa could not have imagined that somebody might possess such a conditional ability. Be it elemental or mask powers, after all, his brothers could wield their own talents at will, limited only by throughput and creativity. "Earn your thanks?" he repeated, trying to wrap his head around Rayne's bizarre power. Part of him couldn't help but be jokingly curious. "Well, that should be easy, yes? I would say you've more than earned it. You joined me on this search-trip after all. So thank you, for all your work-help!"

With a smile on his masked face he shrugged. "Of course, even if that worked, I wouldn't want to leave you out here to fly-wander by yourself. And our friend here still seems...well, offline." Crouching, he carefully inserted his arms beneath Elaine and lifted her hip. He expected his appearance to unsettle the baby in her arms, but for once he seemed to get a good reception. "So, we return the way we came. We need only retrace our path-steps."

That was easier said than done, however. Once he and the others made a careful ascent back up the slick, aged stone steps, Lewa came to a stop. For a few seconds he stood there in the downpour, raindrops pattering off his green armor. After that, though, he couldn't help but face the facts: that he had no idea which way he and Rayne came from. This forest was too new to him, its landmarks unknown and its trees unfamiliar. In his haste to find the Marcus' missing family, he'd neglected his duty as a woodsman and failed to mark his trail.

"Which way to go, again?" he asked. Hopefully this rain hadn't already grown so fierce that Rayne couldn't fly up above the canopy and get a lay of the land.

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg

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.

Qlippoth Shift: A Supernatural Action RP About Combating Otherworldy Anomalies

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.

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Lewa

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.”

World of Light

Mercy Dreams - Awake

Level 13 Ms Fortune (75/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Artorias and Osvald's @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 1683

Results

Party: Bowser, Junior, Kamek, Rika, Primrose, Therion, Sectonia, Ganondorf, Ms. Fortune
Encounter Reward: +15 EXP

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.

From Realms Beyond — An Isekai Crossover RP (Now Accepting)

Lewa

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.”

World of Light

Arahabaki - Humanity’s Mastery

Level 5 Sandalphon (64/50)
Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man, Karin’s @Zoey Boey, Pit’s @Yankee
Word Count: 1133

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.”

Arahabaki - Humanity’s Justice

Level 6 Goldlewis (138/60)
Susie’s @Archmage MC, Sakura’s @Zoey Boey, Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man
Word Count: 1251 (Not on purpose)

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!”

Arahabaki - Humanity’s Freedom

Blazermate’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Roxas’ @Double, Giovanna

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!”

Caravan: An Episodic Fantasy with Worldbuilding! [Always Accepting]

Gruyere Emmentaler Caerphilly Yarg & Granny Siri

"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."

World of Light

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!