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Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (29/40) EXP (+3), Level 3 - (29/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 1259


Ratchet, safely disguised beneath his new invisibility, had rounded the backside of the evil Bowser alongside another of his companions, the little girl in the hat. Naturally she was unaware of his presence, which he almost gave away by accident thanks to the rather comical results of the evil Bowser attempting to attack his hologram decoy. Thankfully he was able to stymy his laughter, as it would still be possible for the dragon like creature to turn round and squash both he and the kid, while they located an axe shaped lever with some drawn instructions. Welp, can’t have a medieval castle without a classic throne room booby trap, can ya? Not that it was terribly helpful in the moment what with how positions had changed, but still nice to know the owner could have people dropped into a pit of lava on a whim. Real good stuff. Very indicative of a just and fair ruler.

Meanwhile, the Courier’s laughter died away as a sudden headache began to build up. The good feelings he had been experiencing for a while now were beginning to wane. His body was still bulked up, but the jet, oh the jet, it was disersing out his system. That was no good at all. What was good was how the dragon Bowser now lay before them in a messed up heap, practically groveling at the feet of their own Bowser… With an offer of power. The power of his soul.

Immediately the Courier swapped out the Revolution for his Ratslayer, something with a great deal more precision. Tora and Poppi, they tried to convince Bowser not to take in the spirit. The Courier was no going to take a chance and roll the dice on words. Bowser was too stubborn, too thick headed for that sort of thing. Bang! A bullet struck the spirit dead on, but had no effect. Not even the tiniest scratch. Damn, It seemed to be impervious to damage! He strolled up to everyone, rubbing the side of his head slightly.

”You hired me to make sure you and Kirby made it to the castle. I fulfilled the details of my job, so I have absolutely no problems putting as many bullets in you as it takes to make sure you don’t get up again. That’s exactly what’ll happen if you merge with that spirit.” Then something wondrous began to happen! The spirit had gotten away, but as it did a wave of gentle darkness dispersed out around them all, enveloping everything within the castle! The Courier jumped back a bit, shooting at the wave uselessly. Ratchet jumped as well, moreso in surprise. Neither of them had anything to worry about, it had seemed, as this wave was purifying Galeem’s influence from all the mushroom headed people wandering the halls. Color returned to the people and the scenery in a most marvelous fashion. So this is what it meant to take down one of Galeem’s chosen bosses, eh?

It wasn’t much longer after that that the centurion had decided to take on the spirit of MegaDragonBowser into himself, declaring that his devotion to his emperor and God to make him incorruptible. The Courier certainly didn’t believe a second of the rhetoric, having known a few too many Romans devoted to their Caesar, so he kept the Ratslayer trained on Agoston. Ratchet was likewise suspicious, and watched closely from a distance, but didn’t have any weapons at the ready. He only wanted to observe. Both looked on as Agoston grew in size, muscles rippling from his body in a flaming transformation, horns forming atop his head to match the monster they had just slain. Once it was all said and done the centurion came out of it all more boisterous, louder and obnoxious… But he didn’t appear to be any more malevolent.

At some point during all the proceedings a woman in pink descended from the stairs near Ratchet, declaring them all to be heroes. She made the executive decision that a feast should be held in their honor. Though the woman in pink never introduced herself, it wasn’t a leap in logic to assume that she was this Princess Peach that Bowser had spoken of before when he pointed out the castle in the distance. Ratchet was all too happy and eager to join her for this celebration. It wasn’t everyday that you got the royal treatment from, well, a royal!

“I’d be very happy to join you, uh, milady!” The lombax gave a low bow, looking quite comical as he nearly tipped over, now a bit top heavy from his new longer body. He followed behind Princess Peach quite closely.

A bit further away, the Courier nodded at the princess’s proposal. It certainly sounded good, and he couldn’t deny he was hungry, but at the same time… Food wasn’t what he needed. First he wandered over to Blazermate to get some of her fast action healing. It was a bit embarrassing to be walking around with scorched skin exposing his sub-dermal armor. Once that was done in a few seconds, he wandered back over to the large pile of ash that used to be the body of their foe. Taking out his empty whiskey bottle, the Courier filled it up to the brim with ash, figuring he could find a use for the material. Perhaps a new chem he could concoct?

The Master of Masters then entered the castle, alongside their pink charge Kirby, as well as the girls Linkle and Minako, and one of the bridge fighters summoned by that giant hand, who looked like he had been freed. Wait, the girls were still outside dealing with that guy? Wow, that took a long time. Oh yeah, Minako could summon that horrifying death thing! Fucking shit that would have been helpful wouldn’t it?! Anyway, the Master of Masters (Courier 6 made a mental note to start calling the guy “mom” for short and see how he reacts) gave them a congratulations, reminding them all that there were twelve more monsters like the one they had just beaten. Twelve more? Damn. If they were all as powerful as that evil Bowser, they might not even have any of the original group left by the time they reached the angelic being in the sky. The thought was kind of sobering, to remember how monumental their task would be-Ow!

Damn, thinking with the ever-growing throbbing in his head was a pain in the ass. Now there was someone entirely new shouting out for a fight? Ugh, what a pain in the mother fucking ass. He didn’t have time for this and the guy was trying to kick Bowser. Of all the group to try to kick, you go with Bowser?! Dumbass wouldn’t last more than a minute unless he had some serious tricks up his sleeves. The man was definitely buff, no question about that, but not buffer than a giant fire breathing spike-covered dragon turtle that had somehow grown even more giant in the last few minutes. The Courier opted to completely ignore this newcomer and instead approached the exotic dancer, Din, speaking to her as though there wasn’t a new fight going on right next to them.

”I’ve got a number of different chems I can make to help with future battles, but I’ll need ingredients. I saw you grow some plants. After the feast, would you care to help?”
you guys think so? i was under the impression that it was off limits, and by "take care of it" @Lugubrious meant destroy it.

I mean if The Centurion was a flying fire person with dragon wins that would be great. But it might be too dangerous, right? or is it just Bowser who cannot excepet Evil Bowser's spirit because...well, then we would just get evil bowser again, lol. But if any of us could become evil I'm not sure. If anyone had the will to resist the allure of personal power it would be a borderline brainwashed egalitarian, honor-bound fascist.

but yeah mechanically it would be pretty neato. but also...potentially evil.

Am I just making this up, DM? OOC will any of our characters turn evil if we take the spirit of MDB? Or is it just a risk reward type thing

dragon wings...evil....dragon wings...evil

hmmm


It’s things like this that not being in the Discord get you locked out of the loop on. We were all already made aware of how the Bowser spirit worked in the chat server. Sometimes you just miss out. :/
@Stern Algorithm How do you feel about Din helping out the Courier in making some chems and survival medicines/poisons by growing some specialty plants with her Spring powers?
The Battle for Denver


Behemoth roared again, shattering all the glass within several blocks around where he had, quite literally, erupted from the ground. Dozens of civilians in those buildings were already dead, either from the shards of glass or from their bones breaking from the roar. The rest might as well have been dead, at least the ones closer in to Behemoth's location. The Endbringer carried with it a flood of deadly radiation. Frankly, the ones impaled by glass and their own bones were the lucky ones.

The Protectorate leaders sprang into action as soon as the first roar signaled the monster's arrival. For Legend and Alexandria the orders were fairly simple: just basic tactics of where to go and how to strike. Of course, the ranged attackers under Legend's guidance received an additional instruction. "Remember not to get too close! Behemoth is a completely unrestricted dynakinetic, which means getting into range will lead to your instant death as he manipulates the energy in your bodies!" A terrifying thought indeed, that power which had been commonly dubbed Behemoth's "kill aura."

Eidolon's group received more nuanced directives, more coordination. Maneuvers to pull off in order to hopefully slow the beast down, or at least keep him off balance long enough for Alexandria and Legend to land some solid hits. Most of the capes however had flocked to Inkscape, the leader of the local branch of the Protectorate, to engage in search and rescue. A job that many would consider the most valuable, important task of all. What was the point in beating back Behemoth if nobody lived to celebrate it, after all?

"I hate to say it, but everyone in a 2 block radius of Behemoth is already a lost cause. Focus your efforts on the area surrounding him at the epicenter, and try to get a bead on where he's going. Predict his movements, and we'll get people out before it becomes a problem," the octopus-faced hero commanded. "If you think you can fend off the radiation poisoning, then you can risk getting in closer. If not, then I want you to pull out the very second it looks like Behemoth is getting within a half mile of your location. We don't have any anti-rad pills in yet, but there's still more reinforcements on the way. Keep your comms open, and coordinate together."

He spared a glance down at Whimsy, helping to stabilize her. "If your phasing power will let you ignore radiation, then you can get in closer than most. That means you can search the rubble of areas he's already wrecked. If that's true, then you're on fallen hero rescue. Get out any of our comrades he knocks down in his rampage." With a tentacle wave, Inkscape catches the attention of another cape, someone with red lightning decals on their outfit. "Fleet-Foot, you're with this one."

After another roar, Inkscape couldn't delay any longer. "Move, team! Save as many lives as possible!"




Meanwhile, Decoy sat in her private quarters in the PRT building, monitoring all communications and camera feeds from throughout the city. Several of her cameras were already offline, either from the destructive power of Behemoth, or interference from the sheer energy output of the monster. She watched as Alexandria engaged Behemoth directly, slamming her fists right into the monster's face repeatedly. A bolt of lightning appeared from nowhere, striking her to the ground. Thankfully, and expectedly, she got right back up fighting again. Total invulnerability was an amazing power. Meanwhile, Legend was flying about nearby, just outside of Behemoth's kill range. An amazing display of differently colored lasers blasted through the air, turning and zigzagging around any obstacle in their path until they found their mark, striking Behemoth.

Then something amazing happened. Tulpa's projection manifested in a brilliant light, an intricate tangle of silvery strings, and struck Behemoth, cutting deeper than even Alexandria's unparalleled strength and Legend's unstoppable lasers! The tinker's eyes stretched open in shock, though she recovered quickly. Well, with this many parahumans to work with, shouldn't it have been expected? Still, the sheer power in that projection... It was unlike anything they'd ever seen. With Tulpa here, could they do it? Could they win without Scion? Could they not just beat Behemoth back, but finally kill it?

A sudden voice from the speaker caught Decoy's attention. "I found someone trapped in some rubble, but I can't get them out!" She recognized the voice of Retcon, one of Denver's more tame villains. "Could I get brute assistance?"

Decoy immediately answered. "I'm patching you through right now." She went to work, tapping her keys, when-

"AAAARGH!" The feed cut out to the sound of screaming and falling debris. Decoy pulled up her vitals monitor for the communicator that had been given to Retcon. Behemoth had claimed his first cape of the day. First, but far from the last. She glanced back onto the camera showing Tulpa battling Behemoth. Come on, Chambers-kun. You can do it.




Back in the field of battle, the various capes had already been sent running into a disaster zone. Tulpa's projection came back in for another shot at Behemoth and sliced a decent chunk out of the creature, but found increasing resistance the deeper it cut into the monster. In response, Behemoth turned its attention toward where Tulpa was standing, its single eye fixating on her position. In a flash, a bolt of lightning generated from nothing, blasting straight for the Ward. It circled around falling debris, completely breaking all known science regarding electricity following the path of least resistance, dodging and weaving around whatever was in its way. Then, a fraction of a second before Tulpa found herself fried to a crisp, the lightning was intercepted by none other than Alexandria herself! The powerhouse brute flew directly into the bolt from the side, taking the energy into her own body and falling to Tulpa's side with a loud thud! Smoke wisped up from her costume, but she stood none the worse for wear.

"I don't know who you are, but you're doing good work. If you can get further back, do it. That's an order." Without another word Alexandria took off, shooting straight toward Behemoth and socking him in the jaw.

Distracted, the Endbringer failed to notice the massive bolt of electricity flying into his not-flesh, courtesy of Alloy. The constant stream of power flaked off bits and pieces of his body, but nothing so consequential. It regained its footing and snagged Alexandria out of the air, smashing the invulnerable woman into the ground near Alloy so hard a huge crater was left behind.




"Margrave, come in." Inkscape's voice spoke over Margrave's ear piece. "Decoy informed me that we've got a big shipment of weapons just arrived courtesy of Muramasa, the mass-production tinker. I've assigned a mover to meet you back at the staging grounds. You're the only one who can carry that much equipment at once and deploy it to as many lower powered capes out here as possible. Get on it!"




Behemoth took two massive stomps forward, fighting against some energy shackles manifested by Eidolon. The energy shattered, dissipated, as Eidolon flew back from the recoil. Behemoth stepped through a large building, smashing right on as though it weren't even in his way. While this did kill a number of people, they were already good as dead anyway. The more concerning issue was the direction he was headed: straight for the PRT headquarters.

"Oh shit. Decoy!" Protean activated his comm unit immediately upon realizing what was going on. "You've got to get out of there! Behemoth is coming!"

"Negative, Protean," she replied, not even bothering to mask her voice with a modulator. "I have to manage the system, or else all communications go black and we're fighting blind."

Protean growled. "As your superior, I order you-"

"Superior in what way, Mark?!" she screamed over him. "You're a traitor, only spared the Birdcage because of this mess we're in now! And if you think you can leverage our personal relationship, then shut your fucking mouth, because we're done! I'm managing the system until that bastard kills me and that's final!"

For once, Protean didn't have anything to say. He blinked a few times, drawing a complete blank. He barely registered the giant monster not 500 feet away from him, shambling toward the place he once called home. "I still love you," was all he could manage.

"I never did. It was an act."

...

"I know."




A number of heroes tried desperately to halt Behemoth's advancement, to little effect. They only succeeded in slowing the beast down. Once it was in range, it called forth another lightning bolt, this one headed straight for the PRT building. It struck as intended, blowing out a large chunk of the building. Glass and stone rained down, some of which struck a nearby rogue cape, the Questioner, knocking her down and unconscious, bleeding badly. A case of the wrong place at the wrong time. Inside the power of the building surged, blowing out fuses and circuits, leaving the entire place in a state of blackout. Decoy had, miraculously, avoided taking any severe injury. The same could not be said for Love Craft, who was still in the medical wing on life support. The machine overloaded, exploding in the brute's face, burning and disfiguring them beyond recognition.




"This is a most troubling world I have found myself trapped within." Chivalry had raced into the PRT building, muttering to himself over the circumstances of his situation. He forced himself to put it behind him and focus on looking for people to get out. If Behemoth was able to continue marching forward, they would have more than some lightning to worry about. That creature's very presence would instantly kill any survivors and he had a duty to rescue as many as possible. The knight-like cape rounded a corner, finding a single PRT trooper unconscious near a blown out light. It had seemed the glass had embedded into his face. Chivalry picked the man up and slung him over one shoulder, then sliced through the wall with his free arm. The reinforced barrier was like air to his blades so long as he used his power.

Chivalry ran out of the building, carrying his single rescue, when he saw a woman, The Questioner, lying amidst glass and stone rubble. "Can I carry more than one?" He approached, examining her wounds. They were much more severe than the man he had with him. "This is Chivalry, on the West side of PRT HQ, on the outside. I've recovered two injured but need a way to transport them to safety." No answer. "Repeat, this is Chivalry, I need directions!" Still no response.

"Dammit, I guess we're on our ow-"

"I read you loud and clear, Chivalry. This is Dragon. I've connected with Decoy's communication system and rebooted it. I'm sending someone to pick you up right now."

"Thank the stars. Dragon, you have my than-" Chivalry's danger sense alerted him to an immediate threat. Dodge to the right, it told him. Falling danger, landing imminent. If he moved, whatever was falling would hit the woman on the ground. In a split second decision, Chivalry kept his feet planted firmly, tossing the unconscious man aside as gently as possible. No sooner had he finished that motion did an office table strike him from above, breaking in two over his body. Chivalry fell to the ground, unconscious, but proud that he could at least shield another person from certain death.




Salem approached the PRT HQ as part of Eidolon's squad. Fighting an Endbringer, he never thought it would come to this. But Sheila was fighting, so he knew he had to do his best. For her. A bolt of lightning struck the building, and his communications instantly went offline. The other capes were too busy fighting to give him any direction, so Salem had to make his own judgments. If Behemoth got any closer to the PRT, then the staging grounds would be compromised and a lot more people would die. He knew what he had to do. Getting in closer than was entirely wise, Salem concentrated on the ground beneath Behemoth's feet, instantly liquifying it into molten lava and depriving the monster of his footing. That and giving Behemoth one hell of a hot foot. Staggered, Behemoth's advancement stopped and it looked down as if to question just what had happened.




"Decoy! Director Kens!" Inkscape screamed out for nobody to hear. The comms were dead. For all he knew, everyone inside was dead. That was his base of operations, where he trained and worked with his team! Where he set the example for the Wards! Behemoth must not be allowed to get any closer! Luckily the Endbringer was stopped for a moment, thanks to a sudden pit of lava opening up beneath him. Inkscape saw his opportunity. He abandoned search and rescue. This was one of his good days. One of his best days. Time to go on the offense.

Concentrating, Inkscape began to swell up larger and larger, inflating in a rather comical fashion like a balloon. His elastic, rubbery body expanded to several dozen times its usual size. Then, it all expelled outward at once: hundreds of gallons of ink, which quickly became thousands. A tidal wave of inky blackness poured forth, which Inkscape swam in like the ocean creature he resembled. Almost like surfing a massive wave, except he controlled this wave, how it ebbed and flowed, where it went. As he moved forward, he concentrated on pulling every piece of paint and ink that came into his range. Entire buildings had their coats removed. All the capes he passed by lost the pigmentation to their costumes. The evacuating civilians clothing became devoid of color. It all served to swell into the continuously growing monstrously sized tidal wave Inkscape gathered until the wave was nearly four times the size of Behemoth himself.

Like a massive Inky golem, the flowing wave intercepted Behemoth from the front. "NOT IN MY CITY!" Standing atop his largest creation, the tidal wave of ink poured forth directly onto Behemoth, drowning the beast in a myriad rainbow of colors. The sheer force caused Behemoth to stumble back, tripping over the edge of the lava pool and collapsing onto its back, smashing tremors into the earth. Still Inkscape kept pummeling and pummeling Behemoth with the ink, like he was trying to drown the giant monster. As soon as the ink flowed over Behemoth's body, it circled back into the main body and continued to cycle over and over again, keeping Behemoth pinned down.

"ROOOOOOOOARRRRR!"
Behemoth had had enough. The sheer force of its roar blasted apart the ink current keeping it trapped, splattering paints and inks all around like a stormy rain. The lava it had tripped over, courtesy of Salem, rose up from the ground like an erupting volcano. Massive debris flew out everywhere, striking Salem and taking him out of the fight. Inkscape struggled to maintain his balance as the surface tension of his creation was destroyed. Then a single bolt of lightning struck him. Inkscape, and hundreds of thousands of gallons of ink, fell out of the sky.

Behemoth stood back up, then turned off into another direction. The PRT was safe. For now.




Injured: Love Craft, Questioner, Chivalry, Salem
Dead: Retcon, Inkscape
Cobra wasn't moving anymore. This, coupled with her absolute brutalization, was enough to force the few remaining Tunnel Snakes to back down. Only Viper was still fighting back for the honor of her sister, but found Light's restrictive bear hug too tight to escape from. "YOU MONSTERS! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" Stab. Stab. Stab. The knife wounds were shallow and growing more shallow with each attempt at a puncture. Finally Light tired of her little game and simply tossed Viper aside. The woman barely had any strength left to fight back, her one remaining knife feebly clutched in her hand. Kiyoshi's single blow immediately took her out, as the weapon fell harmlessly onto the street. Ting.

Match Complete!

Completion Reward: 1 Exp (All characters)
Mini-Boss Defeated: 1 Exp (Light, Kiyoshi, and Llexe)
Hidden Objective Complete (Protect store): 1 Exp (All characters except Llexe who caused damage to a tv)
Bonus Award: 1 Exp (Llexe for Lugs being a stand up bro and resolving a whole round of posts by himself)


A few of the Tunnel Snakes had already started to run away in fear, while others did their best to help up downed friends and colleagues. Nobody dared to get in close enough to help up Cobra. They weren't going to risk winding up like her, even if the crazy woman who did it was now preoccupied by the swordsman.

That's when a simple, nondescript Jeep pulled in. Well, nondescript save for the obvious large stylized dragon symbol painted on the sides. The Tunnel Snakes that were limping away suddenly changed into a full on run. No way were they sticking around for what was about to come next.

The driver and passenger doors opened up, revealing two uniquely dressed individuals. The driver was shirtless and wore a black studded gauntlet on his right arm, while covered in a copious amount of tattoos styled as a Chinese dragon and cloud design. He had long black hair, and a headband. The passenger was a dark skinned Native American man with a large scar across the bridge of his nose, and wore a bunch of gold, red, and brown clothing. His light black hair was fashioned into a ponytail that could reach his ankles, and tied off in a ribbon. Altogether his ensemble gave him the appearance of a feathered mesoamerican dragon.




"My my, would you look at this, Pacho?" said the tattooed man as he shut the driver door. "We get word that some rotten snakes are moving in on our turf, come out to do some exterminating, and find that the job has already been done for us. Heh. Amusing."

The Native man, Pacho, said nothing, merely crossing his arms. He stared down the scene with an intense glare. One got the feeling he was analyzing every detail.

"I don't recognize any of you. Far as I can tell, you're not members of any of the Six Disasters. And that means you're one of three things. Hopefuls looking to be recruited in, a new gang trying to make a name for yourselves, or you're meat." He clenched his gauntlet hand into a fist and smashed it into his own Jeep, caving in the door. The blow nearly knocked it right off the truck, though he didn't recoil or flinch at all. "If you're a new gang, walk away now and we won't have to stomp you out. Call it thanks for the favor you did us today. Course, if you're meat or hopefuls, then what happens next is going to be the same: a fight. You ready for a one on one?"

"Mm," Pacho grunted.

"Right, sorry old friend. Two on two."

Ring Match Begin!

Rules: Choose 1 or 2 representatives to battle Pacho and/or O-Chul, OR choose to leave immediately.
Threat Level: Moderate
Cassim and Iago


Approaching Paris from the east was a lone man of dark skin wearing a blue silk cloak of foreign make. His hood was down, as the sun was not nearly so overbearing as his homeland, revealing his black hair and silver streak, and rugged good looks. The horse he rode upon trot along the hard dirt path amidst the trees with some level of unfamiliarity, as though it were used to less stable ground. That's because it was a brown Arabian horse, and home was a long ways away. Though the horse had never been this far out before, its rider was no stranger to these lands. Despite that having been more than a decade ago, the path before him had hardly changed a bit, and his memory was a long one. He could practically smell that gourmet French bread, the aroma snaking its way into his no-

"Jeez Cassim, how much longer do we have to go?! My wings are KILLING me!" cried out the red macaw flying by his side, clearing feigning more discomfort than he was actually having.

"Perhaps you wouldn't be so tired i you hadn't abused your shoulder privileges?" Cassim shot back with a knowing smirk. It was a minor argument they had had, but one he was having fun with.

"Look, I'm sorry that guy missed me and hit you in the face with that pie, but how was I supposed to know he can't take a joke?" Nothing in Iago's tone suggested he was as sorry as he claimed.

"Men rarely enjoy being insulted to their face. I would imagine you of all people would know that." Cassim spared a glance to the side to see Iago's reaction. The bird's anger did not disappoint, and the thief had to hold in a laugh.

"Just what are you implying, Cassim? That I'm a sycophant? A schmoozer? A SUCK UP?" In an instant Iago's voice changed as he began mocking his traveling companion. "Oh look at me, the mighty and powerful King of Thieves! I bow to no man! Bah! Give me a little credit here, I'm just a people pleaser, ok?"

Cassim rolled his eyes, now looking back at the path. This joke had gone on long enough, he figured. "Very well Iago, I will let you ride on my shoulder for the remainder of our journey to Paris."

"You mean it? Sweet." Iago swooped on, landing right on Cassim's left shoulder. Using one of his wings like an arm, he wiped his feathery head as though he were sweating. "Out of curiosity, how much longer do we have to go?"

No sooner had Iago finished asking did the pair come to an end of the trees, wherein they could see the city of Paris standing tall and mighty before them. At full gallop, they would cross the city gate in under a minute. Cassim turned to look at Iago, a smug smirk adorned across his face. Iago narrowed his eyes in frustration.

"You know, for a best friend I find myself hating you a lot more than I thought I would." Cassim merely shrugged and whipped the reins, prompting his horse to charge forward at full speed.
The Tunnel Snakes had proven that they were little to no threat, getting trounced and tossed away at every opportunity. With the majority of them unconscious and the remaining either injured or too scared to fight back, it seemed that victory was all but assured. The women huddling in the corner still hid behind their counter, but risked peaking to watch the mayhem unfold.

The sound of two motorcycle engines revving interrupted the fight. Two women, perfectly identical in appearance, clothing, even down to their dyed hair, pulled up to the fight. The remaining Tunnel Snakes gave the duo their attention. The women hopped off of their bikes, the one on the left blowing a bubble as the one on the left spoke.

"How long does it take to get protection money from on measly run down store, eh? Look at all this, your getting your asses handed to you. And what exactly are you supposed to be?" she gestured in the direction of Light. "Halloween is a long ways off."

"Viper! Cobra! These guys are freakishly strong! They're like the Six Disasters' best fighters!" called out one of the remaining thugs.

"Is that right?" asked the twin with the bubblegum. "Well then I guess it's time to really make a name for the Tunnel Snakes. If we can beat their butts then the Six Disasters will have to recognize us."

"Sounds like a plan, sis." Both immediately took a fighting stance, with the one on the left, Viper, drawing two short knives, while Cobra on the right produced razor-tipped fans. The Tunnel Snakes rallied to their leaders, even inspiring some of the knocked out ones to rejoin the battle.

Mini-Bosses Approach: Viper and Cobra


Style: Back to back teamwork - Viper and Cobra never stray far from one another, using Viper's knives for fast offense and Cobra's fans for a defensive flourish. Skilled, but individually no threat. Together they make a moderately strong team.
Ability: Mook inspiration - Eight Tunnel Snakes have rallied around their leaders, inspired to fight harder than before.
Threat Level: Warm-up
Notable Fighters Discovered


Roulette Co.



Black Dragons





Titans

None discovered yet

Iron Maidens

None discovered yet

Phoenix Kings

None discovered yet

Brujah

None discovered yet

Street Sharks

None discovered yet
Eve observed as each of her chosen champions introduced themselves in their own way. First was Kiyoshi, who spoke with the politeness one would expect from someone of his background. His sword could prove to be a problem, if the samurai did not have a method to his style which could avoid causing lethal damage. Still, he seemed confident enough himself, so she did not have any reservations about hiring him. Next was Light, who exposed herself in front of the entire group. Few expressed any kind of shock to her demonic visage, and Eve was not one of them. Of course she had known what Light was before bringing the Void beast in, otherwise the people she paid to gather intel would have had to be fired. Still, she was not expecting such a diametrically opposed personality to the image before her, so in that way Light was somewhat uncomfortable to Eve. Then Llexe spoke up, albeit barely. Eve could feel a deep rooted rage in this woman. If any of them could be a danger to the team as a whole, or cause unnecessary collateral damage, it would likely be her. Still, the people Eve had gotten in contact with to hire Llexe assured her on their reputation that this fighter would be perfect for the job. She had better be, for their sake. After Llexe was Naja, opting to go by her code name rather than her real name. Eve certainly had no intentions of breaking the masquerade and revealing Naja's real name to the group if the woman herself had no intentions of doing so. A name was only something to be called, after all, a label. The cyborg was welcome to use whatever label she desired. Once she had finished, Sam introduced himself next in much the same way as Llexe did: short and curt. He felt different, however. While Llexe seemed to be bothered and irritated by it all, Sam seemed to be more uncomfortable and strained. Of course Eve knew why. It had taken a great deal of time and money to track down the medical reports covering Sam's condition, but it made him all the more terrifying a fighter. Of course that left Chris last. The effeminate looking man spoke with the same sort of air as Kiyoshi did, though he seemed to be a bit more efficient about it. Like it was less about manners and more about completing the task at hand, even if the task was just a simple introduction.

"Fantastic," Eve spoke, clapping her hands together. "Well then, until we get word of somewhere you need to be, I think it's prudent to engage in some team building activities. We can start with two truths and a lie. Just say three things about yourself, but one is a lie and the rest of the group tries to guess which one it is. It's a fun game to build trus-"

A hard, furious knock at the door interrupted her. Before she could continue, the door opened up to reveal her secretary, Eric, rushing forward in an almost comical fashion, off balance. "Miss Roulette! You haven't been answering the intercom! What's going on-Oh, again? Ugh, I'll put in an order for a new desk." He came to a hard stop a few feet away from the group. Just then he noticed Light, no longer covered up, and he could only stare blankly, jaw slightly askew.

"Out with it, Eric. What do you need?" Eve snapped her fingers in front of the young man's face, bringing him back to attention. As he spoke, it was clear he was very uncomfortable, and his eyes kept drifting back to Light.

"I just got a call from a little ma and pa shop about five minutes away. They said that some guys from the Tunnel Snakes are roughing up the place and demanding protection money, but they already gave up all their cash to the Black Dragons yesterday. They're in a really bad shape and need help."

Eve rested a hand on her hip and gave a smile out of the right side of her mouth. "Looks like your first team building exercise will actually be knocking some heads. The Tunnel Snakes shouldn't be a problem. Get the address and go. And, of course, protect the store. It's all pointless if in the process of protecting them you break everything." She waved them all away in a manner which said "shoo.' Eric provided the address, and soon they were off on their way.




Round 2: Wrecked Shop


The storefront, if you could even recognize it as a storefront, could only be described as falling apart and basically dead. There was a clear indentation where a store sign used to hang from the front of the building, but the sign itself was long gone, probably sold off to help the owners pay their mortgage. The paint had practically faded into nonexistence and the structure of the building undoubtedly would need a huge overhaul. Inside were rows and various antiques ranging from classic bicycles from the twenties to musical instruments and everything in between. A middle-aged couple, two women, held one another in the corner as a group of men in biker leather slammed the cash register down onto the floor. The register and the floor both cracked, leaving a nice hole you could reach into. One of the thugs picked up the spare bills and change that had spilled out from the register.

"Fifty-seven dollars and eighty-one cents. You said you didn't have anything to give us, ya hags!"

"Please, that's all we have left! There is nothing else!"

"I wouldn't say nothing else. That's a nice lookin' guitar ya got hanging up there. Grab it, Stevie."

A second thug nodded and grabbed the instrument from a rack on the wall, looking it over. His smug smile quickly turned to disgust. "The paint is chipped, bro!"

The thug hurled the guitar across the room, into the wall with a mighty slam. All the merchandise shook, some items falling to the ground. The first gang member moved in closer to the pair of women, who held one another tighter. "It's no wonder ya ain't got no money, hags. All yer stuff is cheap crap! You tryin' ta sell cheap crap on our turf? That's an insult. Nobody insults the Tunnel Snakes!" He lifted his right fist, ready to lay into the defenseless women.

Crowd Battle Begin

Number of enemies: 20
Skill level: Weak
Total Threat: Cakewalk
FIGHT!
Courier 6 and Ratchet

Level 4 - (11/40) EXP (+3), Level 3 - (8/30)
Location: Castle Interior
Word Count: 948


Side by side Ratchet and Courier 6 stood behind Tora and Poppi, protected by the pair’s barrier as the spirits of their fallen comrades took on new form. For the Courier, he had to swing his Ratslayer back over his shoulder to make room for the larger weapon being made manifest in his hands. From what little he knew of Gaige before her untimely demise he had expected a robot, or something high-tech that could interface with robotics, or electric maybe. It was almost disappointing when her reshaped spirit manifested instead as an assault rifle. Sure, it was a very pretty assault rifle with some strange glowing green bits, and he loved guns, but he couldn’t help but feel like his expectations were betrayed. Of course this sentiment made absolutely no sense seeing as how he exchanged maybe three sentences with the teenager, but he wasn’t the type to subscribe to logic. Still, pleased at his new weapon, he took advantage of his relative safety to inspect it.

Meanwhile, Ratchet was undergoing a transformation as the spirit of Zer0 bonded with his heart. The power flowed through his body, changing him, altering him. The relatively short lombox grew taller by a wide margin, his five foot height stretching out to a very impressive six foot eight and a half inches. His wiry frame didn’t change at all, giving him more of a bean pole build, while his commando outfit altered in color to more closely resemble Zer0’s assassination armor. Though he couldn’t see the change, his eyes also turned red, which might be unnerving to some. As soon as the transformation completed, Ratchet rolled his shoulders as if to roll out the kinks.

”Wow, that was different. Hey, I can reach the top shelf now!” To emphasize his point, Ratchet stuck his hand straight up. His new reach was indeed impressive.

“This is a most fascinating development,” Clank said, temporarily manifesting on his back. While Ratchet had a growth spurt, Clank did not and so the duo’s pairing looked a bit off. “By my estimation, combining with another spirit contains an exceptional likelyhood of altering your mental and emotional parameters as well. Do you feel any different, Ratchet?”

The omniwrench clanged a bit on the stone floor as Ratchet tested out his new reach, swinging his trusted weapon about. ”Nope, nothing. I feel just like I always have, little buddy!”

Clank pondered for a moment, holding onto his mechanical chin. “This turn of events is unusual. If you do not want to lose too much of who you are, I would not suggest making a habit of this, Ratchet.”

”Yeah yeah, I hear ya, buddy,” the lombox said, pointing his wrench in the direction of the enemy Bowser, who was now hiding behind his throne. Clank dissipated just as Ratchet spoke again. ”I think it’s time to try out this new power I feel.”

Ratchet vanished from sight, leaving behind a holographic decoy of himself which made a mad dash for MegaDragonBowser, swinging its fake wrench around like a berserker. This left the real Ratchet to sneak about the throne room undetected. He knew it was dangerous, but Ratchet wanted to get behind the throne, behind the evil Bowser. There was a chance he could be useful in a sneak attack, but moreso he wanted to investigate the environment for anything they could make use of.

Meanwhile, the Courier had finished inspecting his new weapon. Of the assault rifle family, it seemed to be a machine gun. Moreover, the magazine this baby had was utterly absurd, looking to hold somewhere from eighty to over a hundred rounds! Unlike his revolver or his shotgun, this thing definitely wasn’t going to need to be reloaded anytime soon. Which led to another problem of the ammunition, because he sure as hell wasn’t carrying any machine gun rounds on him. Sure, he could make them with supplies, but at the moment if he ran out, he ran out, which meant it had to be used sparingly until this whole mess was over with. Further, as far as he could tell the glowing green bits served a functional purpose. As rounds traversed from magazine to chamber to muzzle, they were bathed in this green light… But for what purpose he couldn’t tell. Well, no better time than the present to find out, right?

The Courier took aim, glad that he wasn’t anywhere near the path of that flying throne, and released a quick volley of shots toward the evil Bowser’s chest. The fire rate was impressive, as was the recoil, but not as impressive as what happened when the bullets made contact with the enemy who had so foolishly (and literally) thrown away his cover. The bullets burst into a caustic green acid, beginning to erode away the tough scales and thick shell where they struck. Six’s eyes widened in surprise, then slowly narrowed in joy. A grin crept across his face in what could only be described as sadistic pleasure.

”YEEHAW! I’LL EAT AWAY THAT ARMOR YOU BRAHMIN TURD!” Instantly any thoughts he had of conserving ammo were gone as he took to a more suppressive fire strategy. The bullets fired out six per second for several seconds, growing more and more inaccurate as he held down the trigger. But it’s not like accuracy was that big a deal when the target was the size of a small house, right? Before he knew it, the Courier had chewed through about 36 rounds of his magazine before deciding enough was enough… For the moment.
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