Yankee

World of Light

Word Count: 1110 (+2 exp)
Level: 2 - Total EXP: 24/20
Location: Smash City Alcamoth

Following the battle, Pit and Geralt parted ways. It hadn't exactly ended on a high note, so it stood to reason that they were eager to split up afterward. Once back from the plaza and into the Alcamoth proper, Pit walked quickly through the arc mall. His movements were stiff, his mouth was pressed tightly closed, and his eyes were wide. No one looked at him differently than they usually did, after all why would they? But it felt like they should have.

At first Pit just went aimlessly in wide circles, moving just to move. When that didn't help him feel any better he decided to go up. Forgoing the many lifts and elevators in the indoor city, the angel climbed the stairwells between levels. It was a long way up, but by the time Pit made it to the top floor he still wasn't winded. Well, at least he hadn't run into Yennefer along the way.

He made a beeline toward the massive lift in the center of the structure, the one that would take people all the way to the top of Alcamoth. Usually Pit spent his time in Smash City on guard duty, whether keeping an eye on the area to make sure nothing nefarious approached the floating city or serving as one of the people that helped free others from Galeem's influence. Sometimes he ran missions, though it wasn't often. Rarer still when he was feeling particularly bad or lonely he would come here and let the multi-legged machine bring him high above the rest of Alcamoth. It helped a little to be as close to the clouds as possible. If Skyworld still existed it was as close to it as he could get at the moment. Normally, no one used the lift. Or if they did it was infrequence enough that the few times Pit had used it, he'd been able to go right in ride it to the top. Today though, of all days, it was missing.

Pit stared at the spot it usually sat, the gears in his brain turning slowly and working to catch up to his eyes. When it finally did he let out a pathetic sounding whine and brought his hands up to the side of his head, gripping his hair. "It's gone...?! Why does it have to be gone!"

The staff and patrons of the parapet cafe watched Pit with a mixture of amusement and pity as he spun in a circle, dramatically yelling "Gaaaaaaah!" at the ceiling. Without the ability to fly he couldn't just go up to the top himself either. He wanted to just fall onto his back and lay there, but seeing as that would be a nuisance for everyone trying to get around he instead let his arms fall to his sides and pulled himself over to a railing near the lift's entrance. He rested his arms against it and dropped his forehead onto them, standing at an angle. For a couple of minutes he just stood like that, but eventually he peeked out from his arms and over the railing to watch all of the people going about their business on the floors below.

"..." It was calming, watching over everyone, but he still felt... gross. Wrong. It was a sickening feeling, similar to the one he felt back when the Chaos Kin had taken over his body. Being trapped in that ring, seeing everything his body had been doing without his soul to pilot it had been awful. But he could rationalize it, since it wasn't him doing it. This wasn't the same. Letting out a groan Pit dropped his head into his arms again. He raised one hand to gently card the leaves of the golden laurel that rested in his hair. The Goddess of Light hadn't answered him once since he'd been free of Galeem, and she was unlikely to now. For all he knew she was still under the evil light's influence and unable to even receive his thoughts. Still, even if it hurt not to get a response, it was better than not trying.

Lady Palutena... I could really use your help right now! Some advice, or one of your jokes, or... or anything... even just a word...

...I wouldn't even mind getting teased by you. Lady Palutena, please...

The only voice in his head remained his own. Pit took a deep breath and dropped his hand, letting it dangle over the railing. He stayed there, mostly still, trying to get his feelings under control. It was a little bit later that he heard the lift coming back down. The next best thing to hearing the Goddess' voice was feeling the wind between his feathers, so he still planned to ride it. He gripped the railing in both hands and pushed himself to stand straight up - and with his gaze going from the ground to straight out of the glass walls that surrounding Smash City he noted that dark clouds had tumbled into the area.

"Seriously?" he said to himself, letting out a long sigh. The central shaft went so high up that even if it wasn't raining down here, it was sure to be up there.

While the angelic solider considered whether he wanted to sulk in the rain or not, the doors to the lift opened behind him. He turned to look and found himself frozen in place, arms and wings held up in surprise at the people exiting. It was some of the Seekers! Bowser Jr. and... the other ones! The thought of turning tail and leaving the area occurred to Pit, like the Witcher's teammates could sense what had happened. It was a shameful thought, and Pit shook his head to clear it. He was still himself, still a representative of the Alcamoth and the veteran Smash Bros., and he wouldn't shirk his duties or avoid taking responsibility! ...and so, he should at least say hi.

Pit approached the group while waving, after they said their goodbyes to a little top hat-wearing girl (he, too, had glanced over the railing to make sure she was alright after leaping). "Hey! You all just came from the top, right? It's a pretty nice view." He started with. Then he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, preparing for a proper introduction.

"I still haven't really met most of you, so - uh, I'm Pit! It's the first time here at Smash City for some of you, isn't it? Well let me know if you ever need help with anything!" The angel placed a fist over his chest in salute, pushing a smile onto his face for the group.

What Are You Listening To?

What shows/movies are you watching?

Recently I watched Midnight Mass on netflix. It was really good. Not too long, but enough to tell a great story and it didn't feel like it ever dragged. It delivered well on everything it set up, had a good atmosphere, good acting, all around enjoyable.

After that I tried to watch The Haunting of Hill House and it was terrible. Or at least, going from Midnight Mass to it was not pleasant. Couldn't bring myself to get invested in the cast and nothing really grabbed me. Couldn't finish it. Didn't try Blythe Manor or whatever the other one is called because of that. Just gonna wait for The Midnight Club for more of that guy's stuff.

Now I'm finally watching The Boys. Just finished season one, starting season two. It's pretty good. Really just makes me want to rewatch Tiger & Bunny again though.

World of Light

Word Count: 1093 (+2 exp)
Level: 4 - Total EXP: 43/40
Location: The Under via Nyakuza Metro - MTT Resort
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●

Being unable to do anything with the Moogle, the trio went to the next stair landing where the walkways branched off into a couple of different areas. None of them looked like they'd bring them above ground. One of them did appear to go up further, not straight up but definitely higher, however it also appeared untrodden. Probably best not to forge a whole new path in an unfamiliar place. So at Raz's question, Therion just shook his head.

He switched to nodding when Jesse suggested asking the locals. "Good idea," he said, and then let her go. Back before... well, this, they'd always let Alfyn or Cyrus handle asking around. Sometimes Primrose or Ophilia, if the situation called. Therion's brand of information gathered had always been passive, so he stayed put right where he was. He turned and leaned against the railing, watching Jesse more to see if she'd get distracted and make a detour like it had seemed she might.

He glanced at Raz when the boy piped up. He'd been expecting that Raz would try and strike up a conversation, since he hadn't seen the kid just be quiet since he'd met him. The topic was unexpected though, and Therion squinted his one visible eye as he thought about how to answer it.

"...I don't really know how to describe it," he said after a bit of time thinking. "I'm not a mage or a scholar. It's like energy. But, yeah, I use it for my powers." Therion dragged out the last word, wiggling the fingers on one hand in a mock-spooky manner. Of course, his actual magic was still unusable for whatever reason. Stupid sun-monster thing.

The thief watched Raz's display while fully intending not to show off his own skills. He couldn't blame the kid for trying to earn some trust, after all he was surrounded by adults for the most part and he was expected to fight alongside them. But Therion couldn't do the same, even if the only witness was a little psychic boy. He wouldn't hold himself back in battle, but a demonstration like this? No way. Still, after Raz was done Therion let out an impressed whistle. His magic - or, his 'powers' - did seem useful.

Then Raz let out a comment so casual about mind-reading that Therion almost missed it. Mind-reading? Seriously? The thought nearly brought Therion's brain screeching to a halt, and he hardly focused on what the psychic was explaining after that. He registered portal, into people's minds, willing to let me -

"No."

Therion stared at Raz, his hackles raised like a startled cat. His eye shifted from Raz's face to the little door he held in his hand. Going directly into someone's brain should be impossible, but in this hodgepodge world? Therion believed it was possible. And the thought of someone going into his mind, seeing him at his lowest - locked up, or bloodied, or betrayed, literally broken into pieces - was not something he wanted to entertain in the slightest.

He pushed himself off of the railing to stand, and when he next addressed Raz his voice was hard and serious.

"Do not use that on me. And don't read my mind."

Well, he couldn't make himself any clearer than that. If someone else wanted to do it, then so be it. But not him.

Jesse returned with news that if they tried getting above ground from here they'd have a hell of a time doing it, so it was best to move on. Therion agreed, and he led the way back down the staircase toward the station without stopping to wonder about the upsides of being eaten versus being dusted. He wanted to walk off the uneasiness in his chest, so he didn't pause until he was back on the train.

---

Like their previous ride on the metro Therion stayed quiet, though this time the whole way through. He'd even been trying to think less, given what Raz had revealed earlier, but that was a futile effort. He found it harder to relax than usual. He settled for exuding don't read my mind energy and hoping their little teammate would keep the mental probing to himself. When the vehicle pulled into the station Therion stood swiftly, stepping off the train he took in the place.

This station looked very... plain. But hey, maybe that was good news. Therion climbed the stairs with the other two members of their scouting team and about a dozen or so other people and creatures. Once outside of the subway, the second stop on the purple line greeted them with a similar ambiance as the first. The dull, ethereal glow of floating jellyfish was replaced with the stationary light of giant mushrooms, and in place of carved rock were dark outlines of a large city. It was interesting, not quite the same as the area around Queen's Station (way less bugs for one), but almost. At least this place had buildings and other makings of civilization.

Once the initial wonder at the new area wore off, something occurred to Therion. Something that no doubt occurred to Jesse and Raz as well. The fungus being the main source of foliage, the stone surrounding everything, the darkness so completely black wherever it wasn't broken up by paltry lights...

"We're still underground," the thief said. The Moogles probably wouldn't be able to do whatever it was they did here either... unless this place just happened not to be as far into the earth as Queen's Station. Therion doubted that. This trip was beginning to feel like a huge waste of time, and annoyance tinted his voice. In the grand scheme of things, this mission they'd been assigned wasn't crucial - more convenience than anything, and there were a handful of other teams that could find the place they were actually looking for. Still, it didn't feel great. Therion didn't summon a Moogle this time, as it was clear on his face how he expected it to go. His hands itched with desire to do something constructive, or maybe destructive, so instead he shoved them into his pockets.

"These are the only two stops on this line, yeah? Feel like checking this place out?"

At this point Therion didn't care if they stayed or just went back to Edinsomething Magicwhatever. As the other two gave their thoughts Therion's eyes traced the lit path up to the resort that the station was named after, wondering if there was anything inside worth taking. Or at the very least a bar to visit.

_{@Zoey Boey@TruthHurts22}

Cowabunga!

Hey there, welcome! It's great to hear you already found something that interests you. Good luck, have fun!

Am I New?

Welcome back~!

Kinda New

Your username is really cute. Welcome!

World of Light

Conventional Warfare - Part Two

starring Midna, Primrose, Braum, and Shovel Knight
@Lugubrious@DracoLunaris@Yankee
Word Count: 8551 (+9)

Primrose’s friend heart fell upon Rosaria like a blessing from a Statue of the Seven, fully healing her in a single go. The sudden removal of her agony, as well as the onrush of memories from her world’s end left the good sister reeling and almost delirious. When she instinctively clamped her hands against her head in order to get a hold of herself, though, she quickly realized that the awful burn that scarred both body and mind was no more. Breathing deep, she slowly lowered her hands. Her true eyes seemed to be a pale maroon, lighter than her short, wine-dark, and without any mutilation to seize any one's attention, her onlookers could see that she possessed a cold, austere beauty, mysterious and unattainable as a thorny blue rose.

“Thank you,” she told the dancer, a rare sentiment to be had from her and not one to be taken lightly. In return Primrose merely nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. Gingerly Rosaria tried to stand, and she found herself more than capable of doing so. With her affliction nothing more than a painful memory, she quickly found the strength to fight again. Her cross-spear appeared in her hand. “We should get going, before more turn up.”

Shovel Knight held up his gauntlet-clad hand. “We cannot! Fierce though our battle was, twas only a diversion for the sake of our ally, who even now struggles in the furnace chamber below. We must proceed thither, but thy fighting prowess wouldst be most welcome!”

When she considered the debt she’d accrued to these people, Rosaria couldn’t balk from the chance to repay them. “My spear is yours.”

“Huzzah!” the shovelier announced. Feeling revitalized thanks to Primrose, he held up his shovel blade to rally the troops. “Forward then, and not a moment to lose!”

“Well, way back is filled with oil, so best we be careful-” Braum began to say, before being interrupted by a chirp from Midna’s vibrava as it raised its head as if to listen, and then swiftly dove into a portal that opened up right next to it. Seeing as Midna could not know they where in the clear, Braum did not think this the best sign, so he amended his started statement to “-or swift… ah ha, and I know how!”

There was a loud thunk as the mighty warrior let his shield dropt to the ground before he put a foot on it. “Climb aboard my friends, for today we ride hot oil like it is cold snow!”

Rosaria’s brows knitted together in concern for the harebrained idea, but it made perfect sense to Shovel Knight, who’d just a minute or two ago ridden upstairs on two gears locked together. He jumped aboard, and with a resigned shake of her head the spearwoman followed. Last on was Primrose, who looked from the bubbling oil and the shield with a dubious expression. Braum held a hand out to her to help her step on, and with a sigh she took it. "This is just crazy enough to work," she said, bracing herself for the ride.

“Then let us be off ha ha!” the confident brawler declared as he pushed them off, and their oily slide began.

While the oil helped, their descent was still made atop stairs, and as the team of heroes soon found out, their shield rocket and jerked like a rodeo horse. They held onto their makeshift surfboard -and one another- for dear life as the rocky ride bounced, bumped, and jarred them all the way from the top of the stairs to the bottom. By the time the shield reached level ground and slid down the hall thanks to a combination of oil and momentum, its passengers were both plenty numb and a little loopy, and it took everything they had not to topple off as the corridor spat them and their shield out into the fire sanctum once more.

Their arrival quickly revealed that not everything had gone as planned. The first thing the new arrivals saw, rather than an escaping Midna with the poor kids under her wing, was a towering pair of demonic chicken legs with a cage dangling from its waist, with a fearsome masked clergyman on top, spewing flames. It was safe to assume from the chaos that everything had gone belly-up. “Gadzooks!” Shovel Knight exclaimed. He leaped off the shield, followed shortly by Rosaria, Primrose, and Braum himself, who proceeded to pick it back up. “Quickly now, forward!”

”Careful, that flamethrower guy refuses to go down easy!” came a shout of warning from Midna as she, propelled by her Vibrava acting as a backpack, buzzed away from the priest (who still had a pair of knives deeply buried in his flesh) as his mount gave him all the height needed to turn his flamer into an AA weapon.

A trio of sisters were also hanging from the walker’s sides and cage, swinging their massive body part filled with flails and ensuring that any attempt at ankle biting would run the risk of being pulped.

Primrose was shocked they hadn't heard this commotion even from the other hall, though seeing as her friends were still very much in danger she didn't waste time thinking about it. Instead she went right into combat, conjuring her dark magic and sent bolts flying toward the sisters and priest. "I see you've been having fun without us."

”Yeah sure fun!” Minda yelled back while ripping up a bit of scaffolding with her shadow hand ”Don’t worry I saved plenty for you!” she shouted as she hurled a mass of wood and nails at the incoming hate cage.

As Shovel Knight charged in to undermine the Hate Cage’s giant feet, the heroes’ projectiles burst against the monstrous assembly. Dark magic and chucked scrap alike dealt a chunk of damage to both the towering demon’s legs and the Sisters who clung to the cage’s bars. The hangers-on could not defend themselves too well given the pendulous weight of the censers, and combined with the electrocution dealt to them by Midna already, their collective grip seemed to be under duress. It wouldn’t take too much more punishment for the Punished to fall.

They represented only a small piece of the overall problem, however. Thanks to its immense stride, the Hate Cage could really move, and it began to chase down Midna no matter where she flew. While that gave the Sisters a chance to bludgeon her, the real threat was the Harbinger, who could keep his flamethrower trained on the Twilight Princess constantly. Worse still, the demon’s sudden movement made it difficult for the new arrivals to aim at it, let alone catch up to it, and getting stomped was a major threat.

Not to mention the demon that gave the assembly its name. The screaming blob of flesh spat fluid the color of dried blood at the incoming knight, prompting Braum to leap to his aid, shield raising a blue force-field ahead of it that negated the shot.

“Together my friend!” the guardian cried out as he ran into the fray with the knight. The cage did not like this one bit, and started scream-crying, weeping a shower of armor debuffing bile over any melee fighters who tried to get close. Rosaria leaped back from the spray, her teeth gritted in revilement.

Up above Midna fled from the flames which were doing an excellent job of keeping her at bay, the imp lacking any real long range capability other than improvised tossing that needed time and junk at hand to perform. Fresh burns gained from her attempts to skirt around and strike the Harbinger suggested that she needed a new tact in order to overcome this obstacle, but the monsters didn’t plan to give her the time for another Dragon Dance.

Down below, Rosaria attempted a corkscrew lunge at the demon’s leg, but it stepped out of the way in the nick of time. In response the good sister unleashed her elemental skill, teleporting behind the Hate Cage and striking its ankle with a cryo-infused strike. By itself, unfortunately, that infusion wouldn’t freeze it, or even appreciably slow it down, and as the monster spat at her again she was forced to dodge away. “Does anyone have hydro?” she called. “I could freeze it to the floor!”

“Nay!” Shovel Knight replied, using his shovel blade to launch a bunch of rocks at his foes’ bodies. “Mine relics command but fire, earth, and wind!”

“Ice for me as well” Braum called out, before slamming a fist into the back of his shield with a “heyah!” and sending his own pulse of ice into the leg of the chicken walker, priming it for a stun if hit with 3 basic attacks.

”Wouldn’t be having problems up here if I did!” Midna yelled down, the attacks on the legs having given her a bit of breathing room, but also meaning that any more scrappy improvised projectiles had a large risk of raining down debris on her allies. With that in mind she moved away and started ripping up/scavenging specific parts of the environment instead of random detritus.

With the demonic cage stomping around, it's cargo lobbing some kind of disgusting attack at everyone, and it's passengers swinging away at anyone they could reach, it was hard for Primrose to dance. Whenever she started, she never got more than a few steps in before something interrupted her, whether it was dodging out of harm's way or getting clipped by something, taking small damages over time. At the moment she was relying on her magic, flinging shadow with the same kind of strategy their enemies employed - aiming at anything she thought she could hit. Whether it was helping much she didn't know, but it certainly wasn't slowing the Hate Cage down. She also didn't have any kind of water ability to offer, but when she thought about what else she could do to possibly disable it, an idea did come to mind.

"I may have something," she said. The same striker that helped her out last night, though this time they may not have the chance to wait for Yawn's effect, Hippowdon did have something else in it's arsenal. "An earthquake, if you all can get off of the ground that might trip it up."

‘Off the ground’ was music to Shovel Knight’s ears. “Say no more!” he resounded, before dashing forward in a daring maneuver. With his shovel blade he leaped into the thick of it, and with deftness landed point-down on the top of the Hate Cage’s chicken-foot to pogo high up into the air. As he soared into the Sisters’ territory he lashed out with his weapon of choice, thwacking one’s head and back until she lost her grip and dropped to the cavern floor below. The Punished hit the ground with a thump and rose in a mighty furor, only for Rosaria to springboard off her head and into the air, jumping just high enough to where she could grab hold of the demon’s cage as well. The Sister could barely screech in protest before the towering monster, indiscriminate in its wrath, unceremoniously kicked her into the lava.

Braum in comparison was no pogoer, but that was fine. The big man had never skipped leg day, and so all he needed was a mighty leap and a bit of magic drawing him to an ally’s side to boldly leap up and into the fray, increasing Rosaria’s damage resistance as he joined her in the cage hanging.

As soon as everyone was clear, Primrose summoned the Pokémon in front of her. Then she herself leapt into the air, floating by the power of her scarf.

"Hippowdon, Earthquake!" she ordered, and in response the striker let out a rumbling roar and reared up on its hind legs. When it fell back onto all fours, the impact was much greater than would be expected for a creature of its size. The ground trembled violently, splitting some of the stones that made up the convent's flooring. The tremors spread throughout the entire room, threatening to topple anything still connected to the ground and then some. As debris rained down from the ceiling, lava began to well up through the newfound cracks.

Midna pulled back as the scaffolding she had been attempting to scavenge from started collapsing, having gotten only a bit of what she wanted. Still, the length of chain would have to do, and she proceed to swing it round using her shadowhand and then hurl it horizontally at the flamer priest, mainly as a distraction and/or temporary binding to prevent him from ‘censing’ his steed of its stowaways

The chain lash turned out to be the final straw for the Hate Cage’s stability. Already worn down by its excessive burden, the attacks landed on its legs so far, and now some uninvited guests, it nearly succumbed to the sudden quake. Only some fancy footwork kept it from crashing to the ground, but struggling to keep its bizarre body upright the demon left itself vulnerable. Following Midna’s distraction, which left the Harbinger fighting to avoid falling over himself, all Braum needed to do was shift his weight in order to bring the monstrosity down–and headed straight for the pool of lava.

As his ride passed its tipping point, Shovel Knight jumped to safety, but as Rosaria gathered herself on top of the cage to do the same, disaster struck. Rather than save herself, one of the Sisters prioritized attacking, and by the time Rosaria spotted the censer swinging her way it was too late. She could only put her arm up in a vain attempt to block the massive flail, only for her bones to snap like tree branches as it sent her flying away. As the Punished plunged to their deaths Rosaria tumbled painfully along the stony rim of the lava pool, finally rolling to a stop with a gasp of pain.

Then, from the pool of lava, something rose. A head of seared, gruesome flesh, bearing a grisly mask like a giant boar’s snout, followed by the black of priestly attire. “It burns…” the Harbinger gargled as he trudged, one step at a time, from the inferno, ablaze but alive. In obvious pain, he reached up and tore off his mask, which he discarded “But my faith burns hotter still!”

Rosaria grimaced as she tried to crawl away, hoping that the monster would pursue the more obvious targets. In her attempt to escape, however, she found herself confronted by a familiar habit, and looked up to see the Sister Superior looming over her. “You…!” she gasped.

“Sister,” the monster chided. “...Where is your burn? Could it be that you…rescinded your offering, the beauty you gifted to god?” From her robe Rosaria’s tormentor produced a three-headed candlestick, its wicks of molten flame. She raised it over her head. “Fear not, wayward child. For it is not too late!”

The whip came down, with a blazing thwack, only to strike a blue barrier as the ever dependably Braum lept to the wounded Rosaria’s side with a “Braum is here!”

The sister superior seethed with rage at being denied by this oaf, but would not relent, jerking a hand to her side and forming her floating Rosary beads into a second whip. Now, with one in each hand, she began a relentless onslaught, her weapon’s tips flicking around the edges of the mundane barrier of Braum’s door itself, lashing the man as he did his damnedest to stop the strikes from reaching the downed nun.

Meanwhile above them came a rage and frustration filled battlecry ”Why won’t you die!” as Midna came literally screaming out of the sky head first with a massive shadowhand baled up into a first following in her wake, wound up into a meteoric punch that she attempted to deliver to the Harbinger as he emerged from the pool of lava.

A torrent of flame met her advance, and the acrid smell of burnt hair filled the fire sanctum. “Midnaaa!” Shovel Knight shouted as he charged in to occupy the Harbinger’s attention. “Leaveth this unholy vicar to us! Save the captives!”

Primrose alighted close behind, and called out her agreement to Midna. "He's right, make sure they're safe!" As far as she could tell, they were almost there. They would be successful so long as they could escape alive with Laharl, his friend, and Rosaria. To that end Primrose conjured the Black Flame Orb. She cast it the Harbinger's way to try and give Shovel Knight an opening before she turned her attention on the Mother Superior. "Braum, push forward," she said, preparing a dance to raise his attack power and give him the extra edge he may need in order to do it. With space, she could go to Rosaria's side and assist more directly.

“Hyeah, back with you!” Braum shouted as he followed her instructions, surging forwards to try and ram the Superior back and give the human ladies the space they needed. With a little more breathing room afforded to Rosaria, she again attempted to get to some semblance of safety, not that much could be found in this place. Primrose went to the woman, trying to haul her up by her good arm to get out of immediate danger before attempting a healing spell.

The impish lady meanwhile was somewhat on fire, and also wasn’t going to argue with their orders to leave the unkillable man to them, what with her having crashed down to roll around on the ground to put the worst of it out. The shadowhand she’d thrust ahead had spared her incineration, but it still hurt and she was going to need new unburnt clothes after this.

Still, there was nothing like almost being roasted alive to remind you of your priorities, and hers had and should always have been the prisoners. ”On it!” she shouted as she pulled herself up off the ground, ordered her already detached Vibrava to provide covering fire for the team, the dragonfly like pokemon buzzing to and fro and shooting beams of dragonbreath down at the fiery man, and then legged it towards the back of the room and the cages held therein. The moment she approached the captives, however, several of the nearby cages began to rattle, their metal lengths clattering together as the skeletons inside stirred to life. Down dropped a handful of Agonofinis, demons formed from mistreated remains and the lingering hatred and malice that animated them, as the final opponents to ba the Twilight Princess’s path.

”Oh come on!”

That left only Shovel Knight against the Harbinger, and their brief clash did not go well. Forced back by a swath of flame, and practically cooking inside his suit, the warrior panted as he clutched his shovel blade tight. Around him were scattered several of his weapons. The Harbinger walked toward him slowly, as savoring the smell of burnt flesh. “Any last words?” he asked. “Now is your final chance to repent, before you die.”

In reply Shovel Knight unleashed his Mobile Gear as a makeshift battering ram, but its straight line of travel made it easy for even the rather plodding Harbinger to avoid. Two chaos spheres bounced forth, but in the wide-open space of the fire sanctum they found nothing to bounce off of, and Shovel Knight’s adversary shrugged them off. “...Then burn, for Father Theodore!”

He unleashed a stream of flames, and in a flash Shovel Knight was consumed. Mercilessly the monster held down his weapon’s trigger, until he was well and truly satisfied. Then, hearing the clanking of the Agonofinis, he turned to cross the room toward Midna, leaving the inferno behind him. The moment he turned away, however, Shovel Knight stepped from the blaze, protected by the power of the Phase Locket He looked toward Midna, who had less than thirty seconds before the Harbinger reached her, and his other friends fighting the Sister Superior and a couple reinforcements. Though he now had the element of surprise, indecision plagued him. Who needed his help most badly?

It was a question made difficult to focus on by the sound of skullpericingly loud growling, barking and tortured screaming coming from somewhere else in the convent.

”I don't have time for this you stupid stalfos!” Midna was shouting at the cage skeletons defending the prisoners. As they came at her she summoning up her own frost covered chilfos to stride forwards and body block the enemy skeletons, the 2 sets of undead more or less armed with weapons that could not hurt the other.

Midna however, did have the perfect kind of weapon, the princess pulling the Clubba Club, a massive spiked mace that she could only wield using her shadow hand, out of the twilight realm. Then she hoisted the wrecking ball over her head and joined the fray, bringing her last (non suicidal) weapon to bear in a massive skelletons smashing overhead swing on the one cage of bones not in a wailing contest with a chilfos.

Across from them, the two women could hear the cacophony outside as well - it was hard not to when the noise was only growing louder. Fearing the worst that reinforcements were close at hand, the dancer turned to her allies with the newest one leaning against her for support.

"Help Midna and free them," Primrose bid the Knight, seeing his indecision. "We can... try and make a retreat before more show up."

He nodded and took off running. While Midna could handle the Agonofinis, she didn’t realize at all that the inflammable juggernaut would soon be upon her. Shovel Knight had just one chance to fell this monster. But how? Would a shovel drop to the head be enough? Could he even be assured of landing it? If he failed to hit his mark, the Phase Locket wouldn’t protect him a second time. As he approached the Harbinger from behind, Shovel Knight searched for any possible weakness–anything he could take advantage of with his only surprise attack. Though from ye olde times, he was no simpleton, and his stay in Alcamoth gave him a loose grasp of the difference between magic and technology. The Harbinger’s cleansing flames came not from a wand, but a contraption. From here he could see that his enemy’s weapon seemed to be connected via a tube to the large container on his back. That, Shovel Knight realized, must be where the monster kept all of his fire! If only the flame could be let out…

Shovel Knight equipped the Propeller Dagger and span it up as he continued to charge, ignoring the terrific noise still building outside the fire sanctum. After aiming as best he could, he unleashed the whirlwind blade and flew the rest of the way. He thrust his blade into the Harbinger’s gas tank, but the metal did not give way easily. Instead, its curved surface deflected the dagger’s point to the side, which promptly sank into the monster’s flesh. “What!?” he snarled, wrenching his head around to look, much to Shovel Knight’s surprise. Purely by accident, however, the rotors of his Propeller Dagger ground against the tank again and again like sawblades, their impressive durability dealing continuous damage. “How are you…!!!”

As the Harbinger reeled in surprise that Shovel Knight somehow survived his immolation, the gas tank gave way, and the whole thing exploded in a concussive blast of fire. Shovel Knight hurtled away, half-conscious, while the detonation knocked the clergyman to his knees. “NO!” he roared. “My fire will never be quenched!”

The chaos didn’t stop there. One of the walls not far from Braum, Primrose, and Rosaria suddenly burst apart in a storm of dust and debris to admit a hellsent torture-mobile, a mobile rack that gleefully stretched, burned, and fumigated its captive only to drown out their screams with the roar of its infernal engine. Sudden and horrific in appearance, it blitzed across the floor, driving like an utter maniac while a battle nun and a trio of hooded initiates clung to its side, and swerved around Braum to careen into both Primrose and Rosaria side-on.

As it careened towards them the trio of hooded amazons extended their hands, causing dark ethereal vines to sprout around the pair of women which grasped their bodies to hold them still, and their minds to fill them with despair.

It was the worst kind of ambush that could have possibly happened, one that none of them could have anticipated. Thoroughly unprepared to deal with a nun intent on vehicular manslaughter and her cronies, Primrose and Rosaria were trapped before they could even think of getting out of the way. The speeding car smashed into the two of them, and while unable to move thanks to the vines, it further pushed them until they were right back where they started. The car crashed into the stone ridge encircling the lava pit, painfully pinning the girls between the heated rock and the pointed metal of the vehicle, whether it's burning exhaust pipes or the teeth growing on the outside of it. The harsh collision sent one of the initiates flying but the others held on, jeering at their victims and preparing to disembark the Screamwagon in order to wreck more havoc on the others.

Primrose gasped and coughed, tasting blood in her mouth. Though she could hardly move, she still struggled with all of her might for the good that it did her. She only managed to make worse the wounds on her body. Besides the dark bruising that was already forming, lacerations spilled her blood onto the floor. Each attempt to free herself deepened the cuts, until all she could do was curse and wiggle in place. Beside her, Rosaria was also having a hard time. With one arm broken she had no chance of trying to shove the vehicle away enough to get out even if she weren't bound and bleeding. Still she managed to rip her good arm free, and she summoned her weapon to her hand. With one last act of defiance she thrust the spear-tip forward using all of the strength she had left, impaling it straight through the head of one of the remaining initiates. He died too quickly for any death throes, body melting into ashes. Rosaria's spear clattered to the ground after that. Exhausted, she fell against the car when the amazon's tendrils loosened and disappeared after his death. She turned her head to meet Primrose's eyes.

"I'm not making it out of this one." She said it as a matter of fact. Though her expression was pained and angry, she knew there would be no magic pink heart to save her this time.

"Yes you are," Primrose rasped stubbornly. Trapped as she was, she couldn't even reach out to comfort the other woman. Rosaria let out a dark chuckle, and then collapsed entirely. She, too, began to fade to ash. The dancer watched with wide eyes, her mind reeling. It looked to be the end of Primrose as well, as the red-clad battle nun stepped close to her with a cruel imitation of a smile on her zipper mouth. Primrose managed to rip her eyes away from Rosaria's spirit, fixing the nun with a glare that burned bright with hostility.

"This is what comes of unruly behavior!" The monster chastised. She raised her claws and slashed, snuffing out the flame.

”Goddesses damn it no!” come a devastated cry from Midna, as the two women fell and a set of three echos of Rosaria’s despair rose from their ashes.

The horrified princess had scattered the skeletons and at last fulfilled her task. A near catatonic Laharl supported by his arm draped over her shoulder, and, by his side, a freshly freed and healed angel called Flonne looked just aghast as the princess. Then her resolve hardened and she swooped up into the air on a small pair of feathered wings that sudden enlarged into a grand glowing set that bathed the foes who had struck down with divine light that smothered that of the infernal fires of the room for just a moment.

“Your dark deeds and wicked masters are nothing before the power of love!”

The awe inspiring and fueled power of the angel scattered the dark worshipers from the grave of the nun and the dancer, the spirits of despair withering and dissipating almost as soon as they had arisen. So too did the divine radiance inspire Shovel Knight, who rose, smoldering but still kicking, to his feet. And within this blessed light of love, another miracle.

Primrose rose again. She was still injured, but she was alive - and now freed from the dark vines of their foes she wrenched herself out of the wreckage. She stood on shaky feet and wiped the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. So yet another power had returned to her. As glad as she was to have her Encore, the relief it brought paled in comparison to how angry she was. The situation never should have progressed far enough to trigger it in the first place. She passed her gaze over the few remaining enemies, the harried Braum, the weakened Shovel Knight, and noted that Midna had managed to free Laharl and the girl. They could regroup and leave now... or they could finish the job and make sure no one would ever be trapped in this horrible place again.

To that end Primrose produced the spirit of the valiant jailbird from Gerudo Town, and then picked up the spirit of the kind nun who had helped them. You are getting out of here, even if it's as part of me. She pressed them both into her chest. From within light burst forth, and a stunning transformation took place.

For Primrose

Notable Spirits Consumed:
Rosaria and Amazon
The host has gotten taller, with the average of her four spirits' height being around 6'3". She's also slightly more pale. Her muscles are more pronounced and she's notably thicker overall, particularly at the hips and thighs, and in her chest. Her hair is now a brownish maroon, with large bangs in front and an enormous ponytail that reaches to her waist, voluminous and wavy, with a gradient toward blonde. Her headdress now more resembles a nun's cowl and reaches all the way down to mid-thigh, with black feathers extending from the gold-and-silver spiked headband that crowns it. Her upper garment is essentially a small red tube top with burgundy frills, supported by a sheer white halter top extension that reaches up to her neck, which her golden necklace is now set into. Her waistcloth has split again into front and rear sections, knee-length, and though her thigh-high boots are now below the knee, they have silver armor plates on the front, and she's wearing pale maroon tights with a black net pattern. Her long gloves now have golden armlets and feature a black-to-white gradient going upward, with silver talon-rings on the index and middle fingers. Red jewels can be found among her silver and gold accessories, while jangly silver scales adorn her clothes. In terms of personality, the host is more boisterous, egotistical, intimidating, and deadly. These spirits confer the Powers Ravaging Confession, which allows the host to teleport behind a nearby opponent to deliver an energy-generating double slash in her element, and Berserker, which gives her a chance to temporarily increase her strength and speed on any physical hit landed, this buff being stackable as long as she keeps landing hits. The spirits also confer the Weaknesses Without Devotion, which decreases her effective Faith, and All-Out Offense, which gives her an aversion to 'passive' and 'cowardly' gear and tactics, like shields, armor, poison, consumables, and keep-away.

Emerging from the light stronger than ever was a much changed Primrose - and she wasted no time in going on the offensive. She rounded on the vehicle that had smashed into her and drove her fist into the fleshy part that held its huge demonic eyeballs.

"Shut up," she snarled to the Screamer bound to the car, just before conjuring the Black Flame Orb in the hand buried inside. She could tell that the spell was weaker than last she cast it, but that was no matter. She used up three of her battle point boosts that had accumulated during the fight to strengthen it, and the orb grew in size while consuming the car itself. When it erupted at the apex of it's growth, it was with the last agonized wails of the demon as the screamwagon exploded into smithereens, raining wreckage and ash, vaporizing its entirely innocent torture victim in the process.

The dancer turned to the battle nun and the two initiates around her. She prepared to finish them, and was joined by the Shovel Knight who bounded over to her side. "They're on the backfoot!" He said, to which Primrose nodded. The nun they faced off with let out a battle cry, and the lot of enemies rushed toward them while summoning ethereal spears. Primrose wreathed the wide-range spell Night Ode, while the Knight produced a hollowed and decorated horn. He brought the item to his helmet's opening and blew at the same time that Primrose's spell activated, and between the both of them they were reduced to dust.

The nun glanced to and from the pair of falling spirits of her minions, and then quickly did an about turn and tried to skedaddle to the approaching sister superior’s side for protection/support.

“Not so fast, knave!” Shovel Knight cried. Shovel Blade in hand, he charged after the monsters. The Sister Superior stepped forward and lashed out with her magma whip, its three blazing lengths sweeping across the igneous rock toward the shovalier. In response he let loose a Throwing Anchor, and the whips caught on and wrapped around it mid-flight. They melted into the metal, but couldn’t melt through, and the heavy metal hit the cavern floor with the whips pinned under its weight. “Now, mine lady!” Shovel Knight called to Primrose. “Let us dispatch these villains, for good and all!”

The transformed dancer couldn't agree more. She caught up after the Shovel Knight's charge and glanced at him, would have met his eyes if they showed through his helmet, but he could that she was on the same page even though she didn't respond aloud. With the Sister Superior's whips trapped at the moment and her focus on the enemy in front of her, Primrose extended her arm forward toward the robed woman. In a blink she apparated behind the nun with dagger in hand to deliver a strike from newly inherited ability. The steel sunk into the flesh of the sister's back, dark magic seeping into the wound and swirling about to do further damage.

The monstrous sister wailed and struggled, trying to reach her arms behind her to get at her assailant. The battle nun beside them wailed too - but her scream was made to debilitate. Loud and piercing, Primrose winced in pain even as she kept a firm hold on her blade and twisted it deeper.

By that point, Shovel Knight was closing in. He planned to help Primrose finish off her backstabbed target before the monsters could turn the tables on her, but the Battle Nun’s shriek drew his ire. Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the disorientation to take the spindly monstrosity on. With her vitals too far out of reach, he swung instead for her legs, aiming a mighty two-handed hack at her knee. The brutal blow broke through, bringing the demon down to her knees. Her maw opened wide for a point-blank screech, but Shovel Knight walloped her right in the guts with a one-two punch from his Dust Knuckles. “Saith no MORE!” he cried, and his uppercut pummeled the monster’s jaw, smashing out her ugly teeth. In a spray of blood she toppled over backward, and the knight went for the Sister Superior. He threw out a decapitating chop, but the Punished grabbed at his edge, and the blade stopped less than halfway through, buried in both her neck and her hands. To her left, the Battle Nun stirred, raising her claws to slash at Primrose. This was it: the final act, with the empowered dancer center-stage.

Spotting the movement, she wrenched the dagger out of the sister's back, eliciting a gurgling cry from her as she continued to struggle against the knight's steel. The dancer rounded on the nun, meeting her claws with the steel of her own blade. Before, the nun's physical strength would have easily overpowered Primrose - but now, with two powerful women making up part of her being, Primrose met the monster evenly. Then, began to overpower her. With a violent shove Primrose pushed the battle nun back. She held one arm straight out towards it as it stumbled. Fire came to her splayed fingers, a first glowing orange and then consumed by shadow. Although she couldn't Boost this spell, it was more than enough for the nun's weakened state. The Black Flame Orb flew from caster to target, exploding against the nun's chest as she ignited. Screams of pain preceded her burning completely away to ash.

While the battle nun was being reduced to cinders, Primrose stowed her dagger and once again focused on the Sister Superior. Locked in deadly stalemate as she was with the Shovel Knight, it was all to simple for the dancer to come around and grab her. One hand wrapped itself around the sister's right wrist, the other took a tight hold of hair and habit. She ripped the sister's hand away from the blade, letting it press a little deeper.

"What... do you think... you are doing?!" the sister hissed and spat, trying in vain to get free of the situation. Primrose said not a word, merely steeled her expression and forced the sister's head forward roughly. The knight's weapon sunk in deep, cutting through the Punished's fingers and most of her neck. It wasn't a clean slice, and her head still hung on by several tendons, but the gruesome scene would be nothing but dust soon enough. With a final, guttural shout Shovel Knight wrenched his weapon free, and the deed was done.

Behind them, Braum, Flonne and the Vibrava had leapt to the defense of Midna, and, more importantly, the too-wounded-to-move Laharl draped across her shoulder as the harbinger closed in on them. The glacial guardian landed, shield raised with an “away with you!” While the Vibrava hit the ground behind them, little glowing cracks appeared below it, which then faded, only to be suddenly mirrored by cracks underneath the approaching unstoppable priest from which a pillering explosion of earthpower erupted.

Meanwhile the angel landed daintily between shieldman and princess, before performing a little pirouette from which hearts shot out radially, healing Braum and Minda to full while Laharl merely stirred slightly awake.

With a mighty effort the Harbinger regained his feet, even more scarred than before and ragged of breath. He could see the burns and lacerations upon his foes fade away, while his own wounds were worse than ever. Still, he would not -could not- relent. “May his will…” he grunted. “...Not mine, be done!” Wielding his now-inert flamethrower like a cleaver, he began his final approach.

“Here, let me” Flonne said as she took over the task of supporting the murmuring awakened Laharl from Midna, freeing the princess up to help finish the fight. As the angel focused on helping her friend, Midna darted forwards to the side of Braum’s door shield as the guardian took the brunt of the Harbinger’s final assault, retaliating as best he could with a far lesser icy blast.

Once at his side turned and used maglev to slide out from the cover of the tower shield and then grasped out with a shadowhand to grip the broken flamethrower. If it held she used dragon claw tipped toes to get a sudden grip and leap headlong into the fray, more purple draconian claws flaring on her fingers as she delivered quick slashes with the aim of adding to the brawler’s concussive blows rather than do major damage.

On her third strike frost bloomed across the harbinger as Braum’s skill reached its peak and stunned it. She took that moment to get even closer flaring and releasing a dark energy field right on top of the brute, bringing her Vibrava swooping in from the opposite side insectoid jaws bared to crunch the life out of the monster’s throat while her own stun took hold.

Though for a moment the Harbinger held his own in terms of raw strength, and kept enough wits about him to take action other than fruitlessly beat on Braum’s shield, the combination of special effects proved to be too much. Stunned and reeling, the dark priest took a withering barrage of attacks that ended with the jaws of a giant bug piercing his neck. There was only one problem: the Vibrava lacked the bite force to snap the spine. When it went to simply rip his throat out, however, it found that the Harbinger’s powerful hands had locked around its head, holding it in place as they squeezed to crush the insect first.

”No!” Midna screamed with fear and fury as used the a shadowhand to ram the harbinger with his own broken flamethrower right into his guts, impaling him with extreme prejudice, a yet even that hadn’t the force to cleave through the spine either.

”Just die already!” she demanded, pulling the other bottle of dwarven rotgut from the twilight ream, shoving its neck into the broken feeding tube of the backpack fueled falmer, and then pulling the trigger, filling the harbinger’s insides with wholly unwelcome mana fueled flames. Then, as a final nail in the coffin, Braums stepped up, swinging his shield like a battering ram and smashed the edge into the other end of the flamer, driving it the rest of the way through the boozed cooked ruins of its guts and into the spine, serving it at last.

A guttural gasp rattled from the monster’s scoured lungs as he sank to his knees. “I’ve failed you…” he gargled, his head lolling downward as he burned away to ash. “Father…Theodore…” As his final words drifted away his body fell apart, leaving only the spirit behind as a grim reminder of the incendiary juggernaut.

Midna declined the opportunity to get in a final word, and instead lifted up her arms and caught the crippled form of her vibrava, ignoring its spikes digging into her flesh as she turned, offering a ”Thanks!” to Braum as she rushed back to Flonne’s side and begged/demanded she ”Heal it, quick!”

The angel certainly had her work cut out for her in that department, but, at last, the battle was over, though not without its cost.

Or so they thought. Furious cries echoed through the Convent; its walls were alive with the umbrage of the Punished, who evidently number far more than the attendants of the fire sanctum’s sacrificial ritual. Already wounded, burned, and gasping for breath, Shovel Knight balked at the commotion. “Zounds! Unless mine ears deceive me, we shall be seeing even more foes erelong! Now that we haveth the prisoners, we must quit this place, post-haste!”

”Grab some spirits that might be useful and then all we need to do is get to the entrance and we can teleport off this mountain,” Midna said, as if the distance from was going to be a cake walk. Considering the way out was still covered in cooling oil things were likely going to be nasty right out the gate.

Primrose took over the task of carrying the still-recovering Laharl while Flonne worked her magic, though pressed close to the dancer's chest he seemed pained for a different reason and passed right out again. The angel girl moved from the Vibrava to the rest of her rescuers, spreading her healing as much as she could without burning herself out. They all still had to run, after all.

"I'd sooner burn the whole place to the ground," Primrose said following Midna's suggestion. She was loath to leave any of the evil cult still standing, but one look at the haggard crew around her and the demon boy clutched in her arms told her that they needed to go so they could fight another day. With a rueful sigh she shifted the weight in her arms to take any last minute spoils before they prepared to run. And continue to fight, if need be. "There were no other prisoners, right?"

"No," Flonne answered. "There was a man, a good and valiant priest who tried to overcome their evil, but he... he's already gone."

Primrose nodded, solemn, and looked between the members of their group. "Then ready when you are."

Midna cursed under her breath upon learning they had been too late. Not that they could have known, of course, but still. Another loss. Still, they had to keep moving, and in Midna and the first in line for healing Vibrava’s case, that movement was used to gather up the spoils of battle (spirits and 2 dropped whips) while the rest were seen too. Plus the princess also retrieved the longsword she had dropped at some point in the fight. The knives she had also lost however had been reduced to molten slag when the monster they were embedded in had had a (non lethal) dip in the magma. While she went about this, Shovel Knight quickly repossessed his Mobile Gear and the Propeller Dagger thrown from his hand in the explosion of the Harbinger’s fuel tank.

“Let us retrace our steps, since that path brought us hence with but minor resistance!” he called. As enemies began to pour in the molten staircase and a couple other entrances to the fire sanctum, he began to run.

”Cover us” Midna commanded her both her Chilfos strikers and the trio of amazonian initiates she had impulsively added to that roster, the line of summoned minions forming an impromptu spear wall that blocked the bottom of the stairs they were racing up once the rear guard (in this case a backpedaling Braum catching retaliatory soul spear tosses on his shield). Binding dark vines lashed out from the ground at the initiate striker’s command, further ensnaring the front runners of their pursuit while Midna raced ahead to help clear the way forwards with longsword and shadow hand.

With the last of their energy the party made their escape. Though dangerous, the Sisters of the Charred Visage were not fast, and even the handful that appeared in the team’s way could be avoided without too much trouble. The Percherónes kept up with their leaps, but could be dodged, blocked, or swatted aside. As they neared the exit, however, they found the exit hall blocked by a duo of Sisters and their large, very dangerous-looking pet. Wreathed in flame and clad in golden armor, the vaguely crocodilian angel Fairness gnashed its massive jaws, eager to crush and incinerate anything that got too close.

Rather than charge straight at the blockade, Flonne pointed to a gilded stairwell nearby. “Up there! One of the burning rooms, it should be empty and it leads to an outer balcony!”

“As thou saith!” Shovel Knight cried, quickly changing directions. The party hurtled up the stairs, dropping some ice and fire to fill the way behind them, and burst up through what they realized was a hidden trapdoor leading to a long, solemn chamber. They raced through the mausoleum corridor past hooded statues, only turning to look for a moment as they went by a barred window that offered a haunting view of preserved saintly remains.

As Flonne pointed out, the ‘burning room’ also featured a few basins of boiling olive oil, where the faces of the penitent could be destroyed in an act of holy self-sacrifice. Not far beyond, the promised balcony was open to the cruel elements, allowing the frozen and burning to embrace, as it was said, in communion. With a chorus of roars and screams at their backs, the team made for the emergency exit.

"Should we jump?" Primrose asked as they ran toward the balcony. Some of them could fly, the others would need a cushion if they went that route. "Braum, your shield...?"

“Does not exactly make for soft landing,” Braum was saying when Minda piped with ”Wait… hey that’s what we came here for in the first place!” upon seeing all the oil.

Ignoring the look she got from the far more important prisoner who’s rescue had merely been a coincidence, the princess wasted precious seconds scurrying over, withdrawing the golden thimble from the Twilight Realm, and scooping a snifter of the boiling oil into the cold gold.

As Punished flooded up the stairs and burst through the trapdoor, Midna made for the balcony, where the others had by necessity come to a quick decision. Even if falling from the third story hurt, getting overrun by the monsters would hurt far more. They leaped from the edge, aiming for the thick drifts of snow in the center of the cloister outside. Though bitterly cold the snow helped break the fall, and as Flonne hurried to repair the damage, the party made their escape from the Convent of the Charred Visage. Just beyond lay the Twilight Princess’ portal, and once she got everyone to make contact with her, she warped the whole party away in an inverse deluge of black particles.

Pokemon: Ascendancy

Nordrin Yasmar

If you came here looking for an easy recipe for victory,
you can piss off right now!

---

MAIN PROFILE

Name: Nordrin Yasmar

Age: 28

Gender: Male

Birthplace: Hulbury

Appearance: Nordrin is purple eyed, and while he might joke (read: state with no hint of humor whatsoever) that the stress of dealing with idiots turned his hair white early, it's actually his natural color. He's been growing it out since he was young. It's tied back into a ponyta-tail while he's working (whether cooking or battling), but outside of that he usually wears his hair down. Nordrin stands at 6 foot 2 inches (188cm) and though he was never able to pack on muscle as much as he would have liked, he keeps in good shape. Other than the flat resting bitch face he's known for, another trait that stands out about him is the coarse, scarred nature of his hands. They're evidence of a life of hard work. He's rarely seen without his chef's coat, or some kind of stylish but muted outfit otherwise, though when he does dress down he still keeps with fitting, clean, and nice-looking clothes. He's very classically handsome.

Personality: First impressions paint Nordrin as a man of little patience. That is completely correct. He is passionate, driven, and ambitious - he is also a workhorse, and considers his time as extremely valuable. He works hard and doesn't have much extra time for playing hard, so if you're wasting his time he won't hesitate to tell you. Very often Nordrin comes off as a rude for a lot of people because he isn't afraid to speak his mind, no matter what's on it or who he's talking to. It's landed him in hot water before, and probably will again in the future, but he is a man who won't change himself for anyone. In his younger years he would often get into fist fights, but as an adult he prefers to take the high road. Plus he is a professional and is well aware of how his words and actions reflect on himself, his business, and the Pokémon League. He can be cordial, friendly, cool and considerate - though this this side of him is rarely seen outside of official business. This "princely" side of Nordrin that the league tries to play up has earned him a bit of a reputation as a heart breaker since returning to Galar, leaving both men and women behind him to focus on his career.​

Although it's not a very well known fact, some are aware that Nordrin grew up less fortunate. He understands the hardships people face in life very well. However that being said, he doesn't do much charity work. He won't help anyone that doesn't first try to help themselves. He does take apprentices and gives out sponsorships, and gives everyone a chance to show they're hungry for more in life, and then gives them second and third chances so long as they don't give up. He will never turn a blind eye to those in need, but he has no sympathy for people who have given up on themselves and their ambitions.

He never stops chasing new heights. He is adaptable, creative, and tenacious - and values those traits in others as well. Beyond all of the blunt words and personal pride, it's clear that Nordrin does have a gentle side, if only for his craft. He has a master's touch, and watching him cook or battle shows off just how much care he puts into both aspects of his life. He can be kind and nurturing for those under his care, but he isn't one to go easy on them - from his employees to the gym trainers that study under him, they'll tell you that he puts them through the paces and some days are like a living hell. He wants to bring out the best in those around him, so that he can see them evolve. In doing so, he can continue to evolve as well. After all, Nordrin is well aware that talent is not something you're born with, it's something you can grow - so it's up to everyone to give themselves the conditions in order to see that talent grow.

Short Biography: The sea side town of Hulbury featured many walks of life, from the wealthy, to the merchant families, to the laborers. Luxury imports fuel the city's bustling tourism industry, where those with the means browse high end shops and restaurants. On the flip side, street hawkers and dock workers fill the city's underbelly and keep the whole of Hulbury moving with little recognition.

Nordrin came from a family of the latter. Everyday was scrapped by with back breaking work, or odd jobs with little pay. Nordrin himself, once he was old enough, did everything from working as a delivery boy, stall worker, deckhand, and Pokémon sitter. All temporary, for one reason or another. His parents were never the ambitious sort, and as far as they were concerned as long as they had enough to get through the day that was fine with them. It was not fine for Nordrin, whose hunger - both literal and figurative - always drove him for more. Once he was a bit older, he landed his most impressionable job: a dish washer in the back of one of Hulbury's prestigious restaurants.

Seeing the chefs there lit a fuse of interest and inspiration inside of him. He wanted to do that, too. He had talent, he was a quick study and adaptable, and during the precious few moments of free time he could get he tried his hand at replicating the dishes the chefs made. Some of the restaurant staff liked him and helped him out, others loathed him for his attitude and would put down his efforts. However he didn't plan on giving up. Though when Nordrin would return home at night, and the only thing his parents encouraged him to do was keep his head down and not make trouble. That stung, as it was as good as saying they didn't believe in him. Then again it wouldn't be the first time he'd landed in trouble for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. After one night of explosive anger in which a fight broke out among the staff with Nordrin in the middle of it, he was thrown out of the restaurant and fresh out of a job. Now a teenager, Nordrin channeled his frustration into drive and left home with only a backpack and a quickly scrawled note. In his heart was a promise to return to Hulbury and prove everyone wrong. He was determined to make something of himself.

The world was dangerous to travel alone. It was more necessity than anything that Nordrin became a Pokémon trainer. He never gave anything less than a 100% though, so he took raising Pokémon seriously. He traveled briefly around Galar before stowing away on a ship bound for Kalos, where he spent a majority of his young adult life studying both Pokémon battling and culinary arts. After years of hard work he exceeded in both fields, becoming an accomplished chef in a triple star restaurant and obtaining the rank of Marquis in the region's Battle Chateau. The exhilaration of that feat cemented that Nordrin's passion for battling was as strong as his passion for cooking.

It was only relatively recently the Nordrin returned to Galar, taking Hulbury by storm. He opened his own restaurant, High Steaks, and aggressively advertised it - stealing business from other establishments which he viewed as elitist and classist nuisances. His restaurant expanded to include a Pokémon gym once Nordrin's infamy spread throughout town and beyond. After taking on opponents as part of the minor league with an unorthodox "gourmet" themed team, he was pressured into conforming to a single type team before he could be officially established as a major league gym leader. This he begrudgingly did in order to grow his career further, choosing the Fairy-type as he already had quite a few of them on his teams. It worked out well for the league's advertising and PR sectors, who marketed his major league debut as "The Fairy Prince." He doesn't appreciate that much, plus the princely persona that the media tries to portray during his professional appearances is at odds with his true blunt and pushy personality on the kitchen line.

Now, Nordrin runs a notoriously brutal brigade in the city of his birth. The goal of the High Steaks Gym, a combination gym and restaurant is to nurture talent, challenge expectations, and provide high quality entertainment and food for patrons from all walks of life.

Likes:

• Cooking and food (obviously)
• Battling and Pokémon (obviously)
• People that love his food
• Learning and experimenting
• Music and dancing
• Sports in general

Dislikes:

• Laziness
• Dealing with idiots
• Cutesy pet names
• Being stuck in small spaces
• Galar's battle cafés
• Suck-ups

Quirks:

• Specializes in fine dining and dessert dishes
• He breeds Milcery in his spare time, as he is working on a project to discover, document, and raise every single kind of Alcremie.
• Is much scarier to fight than his Pokémon.
• He is a fan of the Pokémon Tropius for multiple reasons. Wants to catch one.
• Personally knows Siebold of the Kalos Elite Four and has never once won against him in a Pokémon battle. Will get pissed off if this is brought up.

OOC Extras:

• Hexcode is B0C4DE
• Battle Theme
• Galar League Card

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LEAGUE PROFILE

Type Specialty: Fairy

League Ranking: Major

League Placement: 5^th

Gym Location: Hulbury

Gym Description: "High Steaks Gym" is the name of the combination Pokémon gym and fine dining restaurant. Located at the heart of Hulbury, High Steaks overlooks the bay area and is easily accessible from all directions, including by boat. It's a large building, featuring three stories and a basement. The battle arena was hosted on the ground floor, with a lavish dining room surrounding it, and overlooking it on the first floor. They are separated by thick panes of reinforced glass to protect the diners, while allowing them to enjoy a show while they eat. Challengers can access the arena directly from outside through a side entrance, or from inside the restaurant. There is no special puzzle or anything in Nordrin's gym, it's a straight forward battle. Unruly challengers that disturb the dining guests get kicked out before they even get to challenge the gym leader.

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POKéMON

League Team

[ Morgrem ♂ ]: Named Monaghan, with a Hasty nature and the Prankster ability. It's species is rumored to be able to make crops grow well, so naturally Nordrin sought one out after transitioning to a Fairy-type team. If it was true, then a Morgrem would be useful outside of battle as well. Unfortunately if it is true, Monaghan hasn't been able to do it yet. Monaghan is an unruly Pokémon that Nordrin is very strict with.

[ Slurpuff ♂ ]: Named Chiot, with a Relaxed nature and the Sweet Veil ability. Chiot is Chien's (below) little brother, though they have different colorations. Early on in their lives Chiot was the stronger of the two, but with effort he was surpassed. Now Chiot takes life a little easier as part of Nordrin's league team, where he does see more battle but less intense training. Chiot is also a glutton, and will gladly eat anything placed in front of it.

[ Granbull ♀ ]: Named Feefee, with an Adamant nature and the Intimidate ability. The self-proclaimed bouncer of High Steaks, she is territorial and will literally hound anyone she thinks may cause trouble. Aggressive in battle and aggressive in affection, giving "love bites" to her favorite people. Met Nordrin as an abandoned Snubbull when he was young, he wasn't able to take her with him to Kalos - but he found that she was waiting right where he had left her when he returned to Hulbury years later.

[ Alcremie ♀ ]: Named Cithe, with a Mild nature and the Aroma Veil ability. She is a lemon cream and mint Alcremie raised by Nordrin since birth. She has potential among her sisters for battling, and so was chosen to be a part of the league team. Although she doesn't have the gigantamax factor, she doesn't hold it against the sisters that do. She looked up to Airelle (below) and the two are often seen together.

Main Team

[Alcremie ♀ ]: Named Airelle, with a Calm nature and the Sweet Veil ability. She is a ruby swirl and berry Alcremie raised since birth by Nordrin. Airelle is capable of calming her trainer down when he is upset or angry. She loves helping with the baking and decorating in the restaurant, and is surprisingly powerful on the battlefield. She is capable of Gigantamaxing.

[ Ninetales (Alolan) ♂ ]: Named Malin, with a Hasty nature and the Snow Cloak ability. Gifted to Nordrin as a Vulpix upon attaining the rank of Marquis in the Battle Chateau in Kalos. It's resemblance to him as a Ninetales is not lost on him, and he suspects one of the Chateau staff picked this Pokémon for that reason. A clever Pokémon, Malin is as headstrong as his trainer. Though the two trust each other they butt heads, especially during training. Goes doubly so for the other Pokémon on the team.

[✦ Slurpuff ♂ ]: Named Chien, with a Hardy nature and the Sweet Veil ability. If there is one Pokémon that Nordrin spoils, it's this one. As a Swirlix Chien was extremely weak, but since meeting his trainer he's grown into a capable battler - and kitchen assistant. Chien is the perfect helper and acts as the median for Nordrin's team. He is a proud and responsible Pokémon and loves to soak up praise.

[ Mawile ♀ ]: Named Molaire, with a Brave nature and the Hyper Cutter ability. Brutally honest just like her trainer, she is Nordrin's number one critic. "Tough love" as they say. She is eager to jump into new things, whether it's trying new recipes or new battle strategies. A very active Pokémon that loves to fight and never backs down from a challenge.

[ Ribombee ♂ ]: Named Puck, with a Quirky nature and the Shield Dust ability. Captured by Nordrin for the species' ability to easily determine the ripeness of plants and their nutritious and edible pollen, it surprised Nordrin just how good Puck was in battle. Puck gives it's all in a battle because it doesn't get much exercise otherwise - it was caught in Kalos, and now in Galar it hates the cloudy, rainy weather, preferring to stay inside. Puck will try and get what he wants by giving people a pleading look with his big, cute eyes.

[ Azumarill ♂ ]: Named Marquant, with a Relaxed nature and the Huge Power ability. One of the more recent additions to Nordrin's team, they are still trying to work on his teamwork with the rest of the Pokémon. Very capable in battle, though a bit awkward in the kitchen - in fact it's rarely seen there during operational hours unless it's eating. There was one single occasion of a fire that he put out, which he's proud of. He does help out with carrying product. Very friendly, tries his best.

Benched Pokémon

[ Appletun ♀ ]: Named Pomme, with a Modest nature and the Ripen ability. She was actually Nordrin's first Pokémon, picked up as an Applin and mistaken for food. Very affectionate in private, including with people besides her trainer that she knows well, but more reserved around strangers. Since Nordrin switched to a Fairy-type theme, she mostly spends her time helping elsewhere: training new Pokémon on his team, assisting in the restaurant, feeding weary staff, etc. However, she is still powerful in battle and eagerly takes part when she can.

[ Vanilluxe ♂ ]: Named Vanil, with a Mild nature and the Ice Body ability. Vanil was a trusted ally before he evolved. Now with two heads and two brains, it takes him a bit longer to do things unless he mindlessly follows orders, which is not what Nordrin wants to make the poor thing do. On good days Vanil is a powerhouse in battle, on other days it helps out around High Steaks. No matter what job it's doing, it's happy just to be around people.

Other Pokémon

_{The High Steaks gym employs quite a number of Pokémon that live and work at the establishment. Even those that were not specifically captured by Nordrin report to him and follow his orders, as he's the boss.}

[ Indeedee ♂ ]: Named Lar, with a Serious nature and the Inner Focus ability. Lar is the maître d'hôtel of High Steaks, and he oversees all the other Pokémon that live and work in the restaurant. His authority over the Pokémon is second only to Nordrin himself. It's said that Lar just showed up outside of the restaurant one day during it's first few weeks, sensing that he was needed. He has been unfailingly loyal and caring to Nordrin since then.

[ Scyther ♀ ]: Named Mante, with a Bashful nature and the Technician ability. Mante was formerly a part of Nordrin's battling team, and though decently strong battling didn't suit her well. Mante was much happier helping to prep food, and so she was retired from the team once High Steaks officially opened. Whenever Mante is on the line, the speed of service increases five-fold. Surprisingly shy for such a deadly Pokémon.

[ Polteageist ]: Named Grayling, with a Quiet nature and the Weak Armor ability. A Pokémon that Nordrin met early on in his career. It traveled through Kalos with him, but was never much of a battler (though if provoked it puts up a hell of a fight). Grayling is one of Nordrin's closest friends out of all of his Pokémon, and they are often seen together after work hours are over. Although Grayling is a "phony form" Polteageist, Nordrin likes that about it.

[ Heat Rotom & Frost Rotom ]: Named Fou and Reft, with a Naughty and Impish nature respectively and the Levitate ability. They were ghosts that supposedly haunted the building that Nordrin bought and fixed up in order to start his restaurant. After hiring the "Ghostmother" of Galar to exorcise them, he was informed that they were just lonely and wanted attention. He let them stay, but only after thoroughly beating them in battle to stop any pranks from being pulled on him in the future. They help keep appliances running smoothly, and during off season "play" with the dining guests.

[ Shuckle ♂ ]: Named Torti, with a Lax nature and the Gluttony ability. He lives at the gym and provides luxury syrups for one of a kind desserts. He also loves to slowly move around the kitchen and eat up any scraps that fall on the floor. He is the only "staff member" for whom laziness is tolerated, since his job is passive. Cooks and wait staff knock on his shell for good luck on their shifts.

[ OTHER POKéMON ]: Several Pokémon were specifically acquired by Nordrin or his staff for use in the restaurant. These Pokémon include: a few Cherubi, Bounsweet, Combee, and Paras, as well as multiple Milcery and Alcremie that Nordrin has bred. The former group of Pokémon all help to make or gather ingredients for the restaurant. The Milcery and Alcremie act like literal "kitchen fairies," flitting about to clean up or led a helping hand. The Milcery can be adopted by others, but only those that Nordrin approves of.

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RELATIONS

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