Lugubrious

Umbra Rose Condos

So far, my other idea for a character is a skeleton.

Say hi, Trip

Umbra Rose Condos

As he began his meandering journey through the threefold liminal labyrinth of quiet corridors from Building 3 to the foyer in Building 1, Khalid split his time between three things. First, he kept his pace leisurely and steady, to make sure that he didn’t rock his satchel too much and risk rousing the Shoggoth from its comfortable stupor. Second, he kept a sharp eye out for any sign of activity or anomaly. Anxiously perceptive almost to the point of paranoia, Khalid was determined to miss nothing until he at least reached Building 2. If so much as a puff of smoke began to waft from any of one-hundred-and-twenty-degree corners around here, he would be keenly aware. Nobody who hailed from his vaunted lineage would be caught dead meddling with time, but every rule had its exceptions. Sometimes, the things that lurked out there just got hungry, and in Umbra Rose Condos, the veils could be perilously thin.

Third, Khalid ruminated on what to say and do when he reached the front desk. Every social interaction was, after all, a puzzle to be solved. With sufficient understanding of the pieces involved, one could choose the right series of dialog options to arrive at the desired result. Of course, the fact that the receptionist was a Gorgon would complicate these things. As he walked along, the thin man considered whether or not to use his hand mirror in the upcoming encounter. Avoiding petrification was exactly what it was for, and it would be a waste to not make good use of his preparations for their intended purpose. On the other hand, it would definitely come off as rude. Spotlighting someone’s problems like that tended to be condescending if not outright insulting, even if the person had the sense to be self-aware about them. Miss Lasthena’s glasses ostensibly rendered measures like Khalid’s mirror unnecessary, but he knew as well as anyone that she could simply remove them if she wanted to. Then again, he could -theoretically- do any number of things himself. It was all part of the social contract, and at the end of the day, all anyone could do was hope that everyone else abided by the rules.

Some had to hope more than others, though.

In general, Khalid found it difficult to trust monsters. Human-adjacent monsters, anyway. Just as the frog could trust the scorpion to sting, he could trust the Mi-go to whisper in the dark, and Dark Young to devour sacrifices. But modern monsters, whose ancestral species had adapted to the shifting balance of power by becoming more human themselves, presented a conundrum. Many presented themselves as poor, sympathetic sufferers, dealt a bad hand from birth by fate itself and forced into hiding by cruel humans. As soon as a good enough reason arose, however, they’d abandon their pretenses and pounce. Going ape was simply too great a temptation to pass up. Many humans lived in much the same way, Khalid knew. Living their lives waiting for the right excuse to do what they really wanted without repercussion. For monsters, though, their inherent power -and the resentful pride of a powerful sufferer- made it a bigger issue. They were like addicts who could never get clean, and monstrosity was their addiction. For being like that, dangerous outbursts were never their fault; it was just who they were. And that was the problem.

While traveling through Building 2, Khalid passed by a row of windows that admitted warm daylight from the complex’s centermost courtyard. Naturally, the eruditionist peered through the glass, and when he did he finally caught an overdue glimpse of several inhuman tenants. Of the two, the more eye-catching was a centaur girl that he’d seen before–Miss Chiron. Pleasant and upbeat, she was someone even an apprehensive critic like Khalid could find no fault with. After all, she was the sort of demihuman who only differed from the average person physically, with no inherent risks. If she revealed herself, the public would probably adore her–and if the rumors he’d been hearing about her streaming held water, many people already did. Of course, the same sorts of governments that went and euthanized people’s pet squirrels probably wouldn’t stand for that, but still.

Eilidh wasn’t alone, though, and Khalid’s gaze lingered a moment longer on her companion. It was Mr. Dreary, the Mothman. The thin man made it a point to learn (and document) all the names he could, so that he could address anyone with the same distant politeness if the situation arose, and Dreary was both unfortunately and aptly named. In the morning sunshine and well-tended verdure the gangly, fuzzy, monochromatic cryptid stuck out like a sore thumb, and judging by his blindfold he wasn’t exactly meant to be here, either. Still, maybe even nocturnals needed a little sunshine now and then. Khalid’s own dealings with Alphonse had been very limited on account of their mutual reclusiveness, but the shy Mothman seemed nice enough, and not any kind of threat. If Shoggoth Therapy took off, Khalid wouldn’t mind talking to him. Eilidh probably wouldn’t need it, but who knew. Even if she wasn’t the sort who buried pain beneath a happy smile, streaming could get pretty stressful, and Khalid didn’t plan to turn anyone away.

Eventually, the would-be writer reached Reception. To his displeasure, he found it empty, with Ms. Lasthena absent from her desk. A quick glance at the printer confirmed that she hadn’t received and acted upon his email before leaving, either. Well, no matter. He could wait. Khalid headed over to one of the parlor’s couches and seated himself facing the front doors, his back to the desk. After making himself comfortable, and checking on the Shoggoth, he sat there pondering. Both his writing dilemma and his planned solution to it gave him a lot to think about, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t have him stressed, but maintaining his composure in the face of danger was a talent of his.

As Khalid ruminated, his eyes remained on the front doors ahead of him, and not just out of apprehension for any incoming monsters. Though unassuming at first glance, this tidy double-doorway was a portal between two very different worlds, and he could still remember the first day he entered through them. It had been quite the task getting through the magic that protected this place from humans, and though he’d gotten more proficient at it during his comings and goings since then, it was never easy. Powerful illusions veiled this place, making sure that passers-by only saw what they wanted and expected to see, ordinary enough to not arouse curiosity and undesirable enough to not arouse interest. That wasn’t the extent of it, though; it was the effect on the human mind that truly safeguarded Umbra Rose Condos. Second thoughts, prior obligations, discomfort and aversion–all rose to the forefront the minute one drew close. Like being put in a microwave, one couldn’t explain what was happening, but one instinctively knew to get out.

Khalid was grateful for that now, though. The very fact that this place repelled humans gave him the plausible deniability he desperately needed. If another tenant saw him, even though he looked human, they couldn’t just assume that he was. On one hand, there were plenty of residents that looked pretty human, and on the other, the presence of one here jeopardized the safety that everyone expected from Umbra Rose Condos. To them, he was a Shoggoth, a rare and poorly-understood horror, and if anyone needed a reminder he would gladly tell them. Those two factors allowed him to weave the Shoggoth into whatever he needed it to be, such as a perfect shapeshifter who could flawlessly imitate the human form, even though that was a far cry from the truth. This was what allowed Khalid to hang out in Reception so brazenly, his refuge in audacity.

Even so, he could not extinguish the fear that gnawed at him like so many insects. The sooner Miss Lasthena got back, the better.

Umbra Rose Condos

Wow, that's quite the coincidence. If this is a concept you've had for quite a while, I hope my own version doesn't end up falling flat in comparison. My concept of the Shoggoth is one that's very close to (and in fact, a piece of) the Shoggoth in At the Mountains of Madness. If Khalid finds out he's not the only one utilizing Shoggoths around, it would be interesting. Maybe your character is what Khalid claims to be, and is highly averse to actually becoming.

Umbra Rose Condos

No worries, just trying to help. I wanted to double check that I hadn't missed anything myself, since Khalid being alone was rather important to my last post lol.

Umbra Rose Condos

Sky Blue had Nicholas in building 1 and mentioned going to the cafeteria, which is also specifically where Ryu went. I believe that nobody but Khalid was in cafeteria 3.

https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5569902
https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5569931

Umbra Rose Condos

For a while Khalid kept working, making adjustments to the design of his business card that included necessary information like his phone number and the fact that all sessions would be free of charge. He also opened a new window and began to put together a poster that could conceivably be tacked to the communal corkboard in the reception room, since while business cards were all well and good, they would probably never reach anyone he himself couldn’t. Unfortunately, progress on his mockups was slower than he would have liked, because he found it difficult to focus. For one, the right words didn’t always come, forcing him to pull up a web thesaurus or divert his attention from his laptop’s screen in order to circle back to his task from a different angle. But as he sat there, alternatively picking at his food and attempting graphic design, the more poignant concern was -as usual- his unique and precarious position.

After all, Khalid was now in public, rather than the security and privacy of his own domain. For all its advantages, room one-twelve was a decent enough place to survive, but not to live. That distinction meant little to the Shoggoth, but it meant the world to a human, and therein lay the problem. Its warm, humid atmosphere, rich with enough potent smells to make a newbie’s head spin, could not be tolerated for extended periods, and so Khalid spent the bulk of each day outside. If he managed to work his way through Umbra Rose Condos and out into the real world, he wouldn’t have to worry about things like possession and petrification, but the real world had its own problems, and Khalid for one didn’t feel at home in those streets, shops, and parks. There was nowhere that he belonged. One couldn’t get far out there without connections or money, which was half of why he’d found his way into Umbra Rose Condos to begin with. Wherever someone like him went, he’d need to be careful. That lesson had been beaten into him, sometimes literally. In here, at least, being careful just meant wearing talismans, growing wolfsbane, and frequently checking one’s blind spots–sometimes with a mirror.

So, it came as a somewhat pleasant surprise when, after a good ten or fifteen minutes at his computer, Khalid realized that the Building 3 Restaurant was still empty. Being in a public place without any people truly was the best of both worlds. He wouldn’t consider himself shy, necessarily, but an introvert never longed for human -or monster- contact. That said, he knew he was well within his right to fear the sort of company he could expect in Building 3. What to expect in Umbra Rose Condos, like monsters themselves, were no mystery if one could understand the patterns.

From his painstaking observations, Khalid knew that Building 1 housed the most human members of this unusual enclave, while Building 3 -with few exceptions- lay on the opposite end of the spectrum. They were presentable, identifiable, understandable. If not for animal ears, tails, pointy teeth, or weird eyes, many might as well be human. One could go to a strip mall in October and find Halloween costumes of all the ‘monsters’ who lived in Building 1. Not so for Building 3. Here there dwelled monsters. Cryptids that would flummox even the most foil-clad conspiracy theorists. Species with names that could seldom be pronounced, let alone recognized. Khalid had discreetly noted down several entities that he believed were, in fact, one-of-a-kinders. Some residents were strictly nocturnal. Some couldn’t be seen with the naked eye, or moved fast enough to stay in one’s blind spots. These were the things that went bump in the night. The things with very particular behaviors and requirements. The things that weren’t in control, or weren’t self-aware to begin with, and whose presence here skirted the narrow line between ‘tenancy’ and ‘confinement’. Like the Shoggoth, they were the sort of things that really threatened mankind, and that really interested him. They were the things he wrote about.

Until now.

With a sigh, Khalid attached his completed files and sent the email. The Gorgon in Reception ought to be on duty at this time, so hopefully she would have everything printed out by the time he arrived, but if she found herself busier than usual thanks to a bevy of correspondences or complaints he could be patient. Getting there would be the tricky part, but if he meant to actually start talking to monsters about his problems, he knew he couldn’t shy away from casual conversations, even if he ran the risk of being found out. He’d rehearsed a variety of situations during his stay so far in case someone should ever confront him, but theory and practice were too very different things. I’ll just have to believe in myself, he supposed.

…Still, it was hard to get moving, especially in the comfortable isolation of this restaurant. Khalid took a moment to inspect the Shoggoth, which was wrapping up its meal and had taken the form of a satisfied, bulbous mound. He checked its heat level by holding his hand close to its shifting epidermis, careful not to touch it. Still warm, but could be warmer. After a moment, the thin man cleared his throat. “Horace.” The mass shifted slightly at the word, instinctively projecting additional organs in his direction. “Are you full?”

“F̵̩͛͝u̵̫̇̏͝l̶̞̣͒̚ḷ̶͑͂͝.”

The hairs rose on the back of Khalid’s neck. No matter how many times he heard it, he could never get used to that voice. His voice, albeit a frightfully distorted imitation. That was about as good as the Shoggoth could ever do. Someone looking on might have thought that the Shoggoth answered his question, but that would be a rash assumption. The Shoggoth had no concept of language, or logic, or right and wrong. It could only take in, digest, and spit out a rough approximation of whatever it had been given. At least, that was his hypothesis. It was impossible to know for sure. The man swallowed. “Are you empty?”

“E̶̤̞͋̃m̸͕̓p̴̫͉̄̔t̸̲̊ý̶͍̔.”

Khalid snorted as he rose from the table. He held his satchel open against its edge, near where the Shoggoth rested. It was time to go, but the Shoggoth wasn’t about to move. Not by itself. “Horace," he said. His talismans rattled, their eyes blinking open. "In."

The Shoggoth stiffened. Then, after a tense second, the eldritch jelly slopped into the bag. Once inside, it relaxed in the warmth of the build-in heater, and Khalid tightened the buckles. His talismans were still again, their eyes closed. After putting his dishes in the return pile, he set off to make the journey through the complex to the front desk, his stride steady and self-assured. Even if, for whatever reason, today was the day, Khalid Alhazred would greet his fate with pride.

Umbra Rose Condos

<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

Resident neighbours, I'm not really a fan. If it's part of the staff, I won't mind. I'll probably need to make a list of all the staff that exists in the Condos, but for now, just know that the cleaning staff is mostly a bunch of non-sentient slimes that act as roombas, with their slime queen, who is sentient, giving them orders.

@Dragonydas

Got it, thanks.

Umbra Rose Condos

Pardon me @Dragonydas, I have another question when convenient. Would we be allowed to create/control minor NPCs, like a next door neighbor, in order to have a chat if no other PCs are in the same area for example?

Umbra Rose Condos

I'd volunteer for Khalid to talk to Ryu, but she went to the building 1 restaurant, while he remained in building 3, so maybe another time.

World of Light: the Endless Now

The Avenger

Lvl 14 Ms Fortune (79/140) Lvl 8 Goldlewis (102/80) Lvl 7 Sandalphon (15/70) Lvl 2 Grimm (14/20)
Midna, Junior, Rika & Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate, Sectonia & Roland’s @Archmage MC Geralt, Zenkichi & Edelgard’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet, Pit, Primrose & Therion’s @Yankee Juri’s @Zoey Boey Roxas, Ganondorf, & Captain Falcon’s @Double Venom Snake’s @DisturbedSpec the Witch’s @Drifting Pollen
Word Count: 3192

Once Ace left, Nadia made a beeline for her bed to try and settle down. After an encounter like that, though, her heart still raced, and she couldn’t pretend that nothing had happened, especially with Blazermate right there as a witness. Given the small size of these rooms, there wasn’t much chance of avoiding either her or her inevitable commentary track. Nadia wasn’t about to be ashamed of her newfound happiness, but it was still a little embarrassing that her roommate caught them red-handed like that, even if the feral acted otherwise. While Blazermate made ominously cryptic utterances about something called the internet, Nadia got to her feet to change for bed. Considering that Blazermate had signed on as her wingman way back in Limsa Lominscuttle Town, the feral thought that her friend might be a little happier for her, but she supposed that at this time of the night even the most genial gynoid could get a bit cranky.

Nadia’s quick change amounted to little more than removing her button-up and throwing on a comfortable crop top, but now that her adrenaline had begun to subside, even such a small task reminded the catgirl just how tired she really was. As romantic as it would be for that kiss to keep her up all night, it felt more like she’d pass out any second now. The hours spent swimming and catching fish in the Blue Hole were taking their toll, and between the Battle Royal Rumble and her beef with Juri, Nadia had no more fight left in her today. She couldn’t fret about tomorrow or indulge in existential angst even if she wanted to. Practically the second she hit the sack, the feral gave up the ghost and sank into a deep, velvety, dreamless sleep. In seconds, the room she shared with Blazermate was silent but for the burglar’s soft snoring.

Despite the feral’s propensity for speed, a neighbor several doors down had beaten her to slumberland by almost half an hour, sleeping so soundly that the momentary commotion in the hallway failed to rouse her whatsoever. Following her impromptu appointment with her fellow night owl Dr. Yu, with a guest appearance by Eleison since he happened to be up late, the two healers had agreed to send Sandalphon to bed early by every means at their disposal. Rather than another few hours of caffeine-induced activity, the archangel desperately needed rest, and to pick up much healthier eating habits. Since Sandalphon had already amply demonstrated that she couldn’t be trusted to take care of herself, the medics opted to make the decision for her. With Zenkichi waiting in the wings anyway to make sure his friend was alright before retiring himself, Eleison gave him instructions for the archangel to follow, then entrusted him with the task of carrying Sandalphon through the ship for a second time and laying her to rest.

So far, Sandalphon seemed to be resting well. Prior to the fusions that instilled in her an unmistakable human element, she could not ever recall having dreams, but the archangel was having one now. In her subconscious mind, she beheld visions of cobblestone streets, immaculate burgundy-tiled roofs, towering cathedrals, and red banners aflutter in the breeze. Birds sang, ordinary people bustled to and fro, and the wind whispered in the leaves. This could only be Grams, hailed by many as the greatest, fairest city-state on the face of Grastaea. Her home. Though she could logically deduce that this vision must be a dream, Sandalphon clung to it jealously. Her dream’s plot dictated that she followed a certain path, and so she did, but she lingered at every corner and conversation. Her powers of perception and recall allowed her subconscious to recreate this familiar route in painstaking detail, so real it hurt. Only now that she’d begun to truly experience her own emotions could she realize just how much she missed this place, and the people within it. This overpowering homesickness was the same feeling she felt down in Arahabaki, freshly awoken in the wake of her fusions with Pavarti and Leanne, but subsequently buried to stem the flow of unfamiliar tears. It was terribly bittersweet.

Eventually, Sandalphon found herself at the arranged place, a high-class tavern in Grams’ upper district. It was a special occasion, the celebration of yet another major operation achieved by the Apostles, and everyone was in attendance. Sandalphon looked around at each inseparable pair, studying them in turn. The brilliant but lazy Nevan, self-styled as Papa Bear, wore a mischievous grin as usual as he used an embarrassing story to tease the youngest member, the adorably self-serious Sylvan Pinon. Their pactbound archangels couldn’t help but be amused, but while the motherly Gabriel only fussed over her ‘daughter’, the studious but snarky Ramiel attempted to blunt his partner’s antics. The diminutive apostle Faris pretended to be above it all, quietly giving the others the side-eye as he snuck morsels to his pet lizard, while the immense (and immensely serious) Uriel focused on enjoying his meal. Next to them, the remarkably tall and remarkably shy Ryszarda could be counted on to try and shift the topic, while her exuberant partner angel Raphael -who stood a head shorter than the human- exacerbated the situation instead. Last of all, there was Regina. Sandalphon’s pactbound human was a small woman, standoffish, and none too social, but wise–far wiser than Sandalphon herself. Infinitely patient and capable, she was the archangel’s rock, someone Sandalphon depended on and owed everything to. She found herself unable to hold back her tears, and it wasn’t long before they washed the dream away.

Elsewhere, Goldlewis had dreams of his own, but rather than a cohesive chain of remembered events they took the form of garbled, nonsensical, and often dreadful scenes that meshed in and out of one another. Even if this cacophonous tumult of imagery meant something, it would not be remembered. At length, though, the pandemonium gave way to something that Goldlewis could consciously recognize: a familiar place that he hadn’t been to for long, and would never go to again, but would probably never forget. Deep beneath the enormous Shinra Tower in the heart of Midgar, far below even the colossal supercomputer called Arahabaki, he could see a circular arena surrounded by portals into other places, other times. This was where he and the others fought Tycoon, the Guardian of the Dystopiascape. More accurately, it was where they fought Nox and his party, with Tycoon playing the part of stage hazard. However, the rendition of the battle playing out before him looked far more bleak than he remembered. His teammates were dying, one after another. Burned, electrocuted, frozen, shot, stabbed, slashed, and dropped into the pit below, he couldn’t save any of them. Terror and despair clawed at his heart. Surrounded by the corpses of comrades he’d failed to protect, a deathblow from Nox seemed like a mercy. A just reward.

Goldlewis tossed and turned in his sleep, but outside his room, the corridor was still and quiet. For the skeleton crew of Lost Numbers keeping the Avenger aloft, this was the graveyard shift. Even the most playful children and dutiful (but unnecessary) workers had all retired for the night. At first glance, the whole place seemed completely and totally dead. But death was not always the end. Among the shuddering shadows, a solitary figure stalked the halls, literally and figuratively restless, his destination and purpose inscrutable. The intention behind his movements, however, suggested that he wasn’t merely exploring, but searching for something. In the early hours of the morning, his persistence paid off. A sudden flutter of wing heralded the arrival of the Grimmchild, and in its father’s outstretched claw it deposited an agglomeration of curious essence. It burned, but did not consume. It flickered, but it did not light. It danced, but it did not grow weary. Grimm stared at the Nightmare Flame, unblinking, then returned it to the Grimmchild and took his scion under his wing.

”Through dream I travel, at lantern’s call. To consume the flames of a kingdom’s fall.”

---

Rest EXP

Battle Royal Rumble Bounty: All PCs who defeated at least one wrestler
Battle Royal Rumble Reward: 10 EXP
Truck Crab Bounty: Bowser Junior, Rika, Geralt
Truck Crab Reward: 5 EXP
Rampage Bounty: All PCs who fought against George, Lizzie, or Ralph
Rampage Reward: 10 EXP
Avatar of Corruption Bounty: All PCs who fought against the corruption
Avatar of Corruption Reward: 15 EXP

At six-thirty on the dot, a series of melodic tones began to play in all the rooms occupied by the Seekers, both new and old. The chord progressed quickly, becoming louder, faster, and more insistent, and by the fifteen-second mark only the heartiest sleepers among the heroes could possibly hope to withstand it. Then, with the alarm out of the way, the voice of the Avenger’s resident AI began to play through the intercom in order to deliver the first of many instructions the Seekers would receive today.

“Rise and shine, everyone. It is currently 6:30:20, Tuesday morning. We’re cruising at an altitude of forty thousand feet over the Land of Adventure, headed north. Estimated time of arrival at the Dead Zone is one hour, twenty-nine minutes, twenty seconds. Please report to the Bridge for a mission briefing at exactly six forty-five. Breakfast will be served afterward, and you’ll have the remainder of the time to prepare for the mission. Today we take one more step to saving the worlds!”

Nadia rolled over in bed, an incredulous expression on her face. “Already? It’s so earlyyyyy…” She sighed, sat up, and swung her legs out over the bed. “Well, guess its my fault for goin’ to bed late.” Despite wanting to sleep in, she still felt refreshed by the night’s sleep, so she hopped up to hit the showers before the morning meeting.

Compared to the catgirl, Goldlewis roused himself more deliberately. As a military man he was used to waking up early, but age didn’t make it any easier to greet the new day. Still, this old-timer wasn’t about to let it set in. He got to his feet and began his well-rehearsed ten-minute daily routine, after which he promised to be preened, presentable, and ready for duty.

The veteran arrived at the Bridge a couple minutes early. He found a handful of Seekers and Lost Numbers there already, and while the sight of Grimm in bright light took him somewhat aback, seeing Sandalphon there was hardly a surprise. There was something different about her today, though. For one, she looked much more comfortable than usual, clothed in a form-fitting black turtleneck sweater and full-length black culottes over her white boots in place of her typical formal wear. Her short silver hair was a little messy, and she looked somewhat more relaxed than usual. It was unusual. When she spotted Goldlewis she acknowledged him with a polite nod, but it did little to set the veteran at ease. The archangel he’d come to know was inflexibly selfless, never once considering her own comfort or wellbeing. This was a good change, of course, but still. Who was this and what did she do to Sandalphon…?

Over the course of the next few minutes, twenty more Seekers piled into the room, some -like Nadia- over a minute after the appointed time. The ever-punctual Goldlewis made a mental note of the time on his stopwatch when he finally clicked it, wondering whether or not to bring it up. For now, though, the floor belonged to Sandalphon.

“Good morning,” the archangel greeted everyone, conjuring a handful of screens around her with a wave of her free hand. The other held a thermos of coffee, which according to her doctors would be the only one she could have today. To her that seemed much scarier than what the Seekers had in store for today, but after this briefing the others might not agree.

“Today’s mission is an incursion into the Dead Zone formerly known as Redgraccoon City. Our objective is to find and destroy the Dead Zone’s Guardian. The location of this Guardian has been positively identified for some time, but until yesterday, our forces could not penetrate this area without extreme risk. Please allow me a brief explanation.” She paused to take a sip of coffee. “Last week an annihilation event, hereafter referred to as a ‘voidout’, was triggered in the center of the city, at the base of the demonic tree known as the Qliphoth. This voidout reduced the city to a crater, but the Qliphoth endured. Afterward, the elevated chiralium levels throughout the region gave rise to the phenomenon known as ‘timefall’. This rain has the anomalous property of rapidly aging whatever it touches, organic and inorganic matter alike. Worse still, the timefall heralds the arrival of certain supernatural entities whose nature is still not fully understood at this time. These Beached Things, or BTs for short, are invisible to the naked eye and highly responsive to sound. If able to capture and consume a living thing, the resulting matter-antimatter reaction will trigger another voidout.”

Sandalphon took a deep breath. “These factors together made it impossible to approach the Qliphoth until now. Thanks to the diligent efforts of our engineers and Bridges personnel, however, three developments have been made to enable your mission today.” She turned toward a series of tables set up against one of the walls in the room, each covered in a tarp. The portly coroner, Deadman, pulled off the first one to reveal a bunch of high-tech backpacks. “These personal shield generators, once activated, will project a bubble around your upper body. Since their barriers are energy and not matter, they are immune to the effects of timefall. However, all impacts with the barrier drain its strength, and too much damage will force a temporary shutdown. These should be considered for emergency use only.”

At her prompting, Deadman pulled the second tarp to reveal a large, star-shaped device on a pole, looking like something straight out of a mad science lab. “This is the lynchpin of the operation,” Sandalphon explained. “The Stable Field Emitter. While its internal logic is not fully mapped out, it projects a circular field that weakens ‘supernatural’ effects, nullifying weaker ones outright. This includes the timefall’s aging effect. As you might expect, protecting this device in transport is of vital importance to the mission. Be advised, however, that your own magic and other special abilities will also be weakened in its presence. Once you reach the Qliphoth, you can proceed through the demon tree’s interior without the Stable Field Emitter.”

Sandalphon paused, drinking deep of her coffee, then took a deep breath through her nose. “Finally, we have our third development. Three members of the team will be outfitted with these devices in order to enable the detection of BTs. Otherwise, we all risk running straight into them while approaching the Qliphoth.” When Deadman removed the tarp, the Seekers saw three oblong orange glass pods arranged on the table, all about two feet tall and a foot across. Each one contained some sort of fluid, and an infant, clothed in red, green, pink, and blue. With each came a highly-advanced scanner hooked up to a mechanical arm. “These BBs facilitate a connection with the ‘other side’, allowing them to detect BTs for the user. Thus, they are indispensable equipment, and must also be protected at all costs. Further questions about them will be fielded by Deadman after the operation. By the time we deploy, we will need six volunteers. Four to carry BBs, and two on Stable Field Emitter duty. Using this equipment to reach the Qliphoth is the hard part. Once you’re inside, you will be free to do what you do best.”

Sandalphon set her coffee down and crossed her arms. “This is a blitzkrieg operation. All twenty-four of us will be present. We will weather the storm, enter the Qliphoth, and annihilate the Guardian lurking inside. If Master Hand or Moebius show up on the way, we will destroy them as well.” She nodded at the assembled heroes. “That is all. You are dismissed for breakfast.”

With a rather heavy exhalation, Nadia joined the crowd headed for the mess hall. It lay only one floor down and a short walk away, but the amount of people around (some of them very large) meant that too much haste could cause problems. It hadn’t escaped her that the Life Gem whose essence flowed through her veins and sustained her impossible existence, probably counted as magic that the Stable Field Emitter would suppress. As long as it didn’t fade completely, she figured she should be fine. With so many Seekers present, anything they wound up fighting would be in for a hell of a time. Even if regeneration took longer, there would be ample opportunity in a squadron like that. But until they reached the Qliphoth, they were up against enemies they couldn’t fight. The BTs Sandalphon mentioned honestly creeped her out. If that absurdly immense explosion she witnessed while staying in Limsa, half a continent away, had been a voidout, a single person getting eaten would definitely doom the whole group. Was there really no way to fight these things? Nadia resolved to ask, but as her growling stomach so helpfully reminded her, food came first.

Given today’s mission, breakfast in the mess hall today was quite the occasion. Since the Lost Numbers’ last supply run had been at the Far Far Range, the cafeteria came equipped with a wealth of poultry products and unusual produce. Hungry visitors could pick up plenty of eggs and chicken sausage, and the fruits could be enjoyed as is, while the vegetables could be minced up and either pan-fried or eaten in omelets made to order by the head chef. Bracket Brace herself was there to field requests, the little white rabbit-creature’s positivity positively infectious, and the Lost Numbers in the kitchen were working hard too. Clearly, everyone could expect to eat very well, but there was one problem: space. The mess hall offered four tables that could seat six apiece, with no individual seating anywhere. Unless the diners grabbed their meals and ran, everyone would need to pile in and get cozy with five friends.

An expert at navigating crowds, Nadia made her way to the front of the pack the minute those tantalizing aromas reached her nostrils. As such, she managed to be one of the first to reach the tables. Grimm managed to get his food soon after, but he elected to seat himself at table two with his all-meat platter. When Goldlewis showed up, he decided to join Grimm in an effort to continue his hospitality. Meanwhile, Sandalphon was among the last in line. Given her usual diet of honey and coffee, stuffing herself with meat, fruits, and vegetables didn’t appeal to her all that much, but given her doctors’ insistence the archangel followed her instructions. Even then, however, she somehow reached table four with a number of honey packets for use in sweetening her meal.