Yankee

SPIRITUM

Oooookaaaaay this is probably fine. Gonna need to sweep it for typos again in the morning I'm sure. Hopefully the concept still works, it's a only a little bit convoluted lol. Not much has changed over all though.

But hey, if it doesn't work then no worries, I'll just read along.

Z Bennett

_{W A R D E N}

---

Lance Bennett

20 | 5'11" (180cm) | O+ | WARDEN 3^rd CLASS

_{A P P E R A N C E}

---

Lance had been a skinny kid when he was first enrolled. It was hard to put on the muscle that training as a WARDEN demanded, but within the last decade he had managed it. Now he is compactly built, hard muscle everywhere with virtually no excess fat. Even with the nicks and scars carved into his body from training and scraps, he takes pride in his physique as the proof of all of his hard work. He keeps as fit as possible, especially because he is prone to illness. It didn't used to be that way - somewhere along the line he got sick and stayed sick, always running some kind of low level fever if his skin was anything to go by. It's both a warm tan complexion and warm to the touch. Nothing serious though, as he'd say.

Because he is rarely out of uniform, he doesn't put much thought into what he wears during his down time. Most of his clothes are gifts or hand-me-downs anyway. It is quite funny to see him mix some garment a more fashion forward friend gave to him with the most worn out piece of clothing the world has ever seen. He basically just wears whatever makes him happy or catches his interest. He is most commonly seen with his trademark scarf, embroidered with the initials Z.B.

_{P E R S O N A L I T Y}

---

Loyalty is the basis of Lance's personality. He was raised believing how important it was to obey one's parents, their superiors, and their God. The thought of betraying someone's trust doesn't even cross his mind, and on the rare chance he does it the guilt eats away at him until he usually ends up confessing. Because of this, Lance makes for a good friend and is very easy to get along with. He's always willing to lend a hand, hear someone out, or join in on a fun time.

He's fine with banter and can take a good ribbing. He tries not to let anything bother him, keeping strong both for himself and others. He doesn't often talk about his family, and though some jabs at his character hurt more than others he is quick to forgive... if not forget. His emotions are easy to read on his face, he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve. When he's in a good mood he loves to share it, but when he's feeling down or conflicted, he deflects.

Lance has come to be known as hard working and reliable. Someone who always puts others before himself. The kind of person you can lean on if you need to, very literally; he's lent his shoulder for people to cry on and bodily dragged fellow drunken WARDENs back to the barracks plenty of times. He isn't touchy per se, but he appreciates a friendly touch and will happily reciprocate whether its a hug or one of his squadmates dragging him to the sparring ring to kick his ass again.

Perhaps not so surprisingly given his upbringing, but he is quite chaste. He travels to one of the Citadel's cathedrals once a week, head down, intense, introspective and quietly talking with himself. This is a routine he takes very seriously. Sometimes he struggles with his own identity, although this is a side of himself he would be mortified to let anyone else in on. He especially doesn't want anyone to find out just how afraid he is of being deployed for real.

_{B A C K G R O U N D}

---

The Bennett family have a proud history. Rassvet natives dedicated to service - even before the Rassvet-Vangar Conflict began. Sons and daughters of the lineage had always been devout members of the Order of the Dawn, inquisitors from a long line of inquisitors. The current family patriarch, Jophiel Bennett, had been one of a handful of prolific High Inquisitors in Fazra before being forced to retire due to a leg injury. He and his wife returned to Rassvet to the Bennett estate, in the pretty fishing village of Sheldock on the coast, where they raised their four sons.

The eldest son Michael was put on a high pedestal, groomed to be the next Bennett inquisitor before he could even talk which kept him from WARDEN life. The second son Lance however was sure to be scooped up by the WARDENs as soon as he was of age to be tested given his innate capabilities. This too was a source of pride for the family. The youngest son Laramie would eventually go on to show a sense for magic unlike any other. The only anomaly was the middle son Zadkiel, who seemed to have inherited none of the prestige of the family name and had little to no aptitude for magic. It was normal for talent to skip a child or two, so while Zak did not receive any of the special training or attention of his father, he was treated with love all the same.

A few weeks after Lance's tenth birthday, he was selected to join WARDEN just as many predicted. The boy was excited, looking forward to it. In celebration, the boy's father let the eldest three brothers take their boat out for some quality time together before they split up - as Michael would soon be leaving as well, traveling to Fazra soon to complete his initiation into the Order. Lunches and fishing poles packed, the day was a blur of warmth and happiness. It was on their way back that tragedy struck. As dusk was settling over the water, one of the boys rocked the boat a little too hard, or shoved each other just a little too roughly, and Lance was thrown overboard. Given that the family was well accustomed to the water, the remaining brothers waited for Lance to come back up. He never did. Frantically, Michael and Zak dove in to try and find him, but the waters were dark by then. It was late into the night when they gave up, unable to locate their brother. Explaining what happened to their father was most frightening thing the boys had ever done.

Jophiel was a stern, proud man who took his and his family's image very seriously. He was unwilling to admit that Lance, WARDEN hopeful and prodigal son, had died on his watch; not to himself or anyone else. He couldn't face that shame and disappointment.

What followed was a devious scheme un-befitting a Dawn inquisitor. One of his sons had drowned that day, but it wasn't Lance - it was Zadkiel. That's what he convinced the world of. Lance and Zadkiel were close in age, Zak only one year younger, and with the same red hair and tanned skin they were commonly confused with each other. If one hadn't been treated so much more handsomely than the other, they could have been twins. Zadkiel was not on board for this plan, but as a child there was not much he could do. He was pressed into obedience and sworn to silence. The Bennett family mourned "Zadkiel" for a little while, and prepared "Lance" to be sent to the Citadel.

After the WARDENs came to collect him, they were suspicious of "Lance's" sudden drop in aptitude. The lie was maintained with the explanation that his grief over his brother was deeply affecting him. This was true, as the boy barely had time to process everything that had happened to himself and his brother. He never would have made the cut for WARDEN under normal circumstances, so the training was absolutely grueling. Over time it got harder and harder to make up excuses, so the only thing "Lance" could do was train harder and harder. He gained a reputation as a workhorse, and though he was consistently in the lowest percentile of his class, he managed to remain "WARDEN material."

The first few years he hated every minute of it, but the crushing guilt he would feel if he deserted stopped him from doing so. The only people who knew the truth of his situation were himself, his father, and his older brother. Aggressive gaslighting on Jophiel's part managed to convince even his mother that he was, and had always been, Lance. The family never spoke of the incident, so their youngest son grew up never knowing there had been a fourth brother at all. If he left service, it would completely destroy his relationship with his family. If he confessed the truth, it would stain the family's image. More than that though, if he refused to carry this name then Lance would really be gone forever.

So he swallowed his grief, his discomfort, everything that told him this was wrong. He suffered the brutal lifestyle of future WARDENs, endured the ridicule of better trainees, learned to live with the mistburn and tried not to develop an abusive habit with the burn reducing drugs. As a kid he'd hated his old fashioned, traditional name, but while lying awake after training he would give nearly anything to hear someone call him by it.

When graduation came, he'd had to scurry off and find somewhere private to let himself be emotional. The certificate said Lance Bennett, like he knew it would. It had "his" birth date. The real Lance would have been twenty now, while the young man holding the paper was nineteen. Staring at the certificate brought about such a weird, volatile mix of emotions. He was bitter, he was proud. He had nearly burnt a hole through the thing before someone came to find him.

He is glad for the road trip, jumping at the chance to join. He hopes to use it to sort out all his feelings before deployment. If nothing else he is determined to stay alive during the conflict so he can finally come clean after serving his term, put Lance to rest and die as his own man - hopefully far into the future.

_{C O M B A T}

---

Combat Class:
Vanguard, situational Ranger

Combat Style:
It was a common joke around the barracks that there should be a WARDEN 4^th class solely so that Lance could occupy it. That fact is that Lance is never the best person in the squad at any given thing; he is far from a fighting prodigy and could never cut it as a mage. What he does have are his eyes, his body, tenacity, and the drive to protect himself and others.

In melee he relies on his strength more than anything, having honed himself over the last decade into a human-spear to drive wedges between enemy formations. He is usually first into combat for that reason, to create an opening for others to capitalize on. Like every other WARDEN he is proficient with many kinds of weapons, but he prefers pikes and a trusty sword most of all... when he's not using firearms that is, which he quite good with. Though Lance is no slouch with melee weaponry (a decade of training will make sure of that), he is much better with a rifle or handgun - especially high-precision, long-range rifles. Despite that, he is relegated to the front line because his difficulties with sensing and channeling the Mist make it difficult for him to operate as a true independent ranger. Give him a spotter or a partner though, and he makes an efficient and deadly sniper.

Magic was never Lance's strong suit. His affinity with the Mist is very low, and he suffers from mistburn so often it might as well be constant. To both cover up his symptoms and make himself seem at least a little competent, Lance focused on learning a simple kind of magic and learning it well: elemental control over fire. Needless to say using magic is a last resort for him in combat. His "signature" spell is the halo of flames, a ring of fire summoned above or around him that flings embers outward from it.

Finally, over his WARDEN uniform he wears a light armor modeled after the likes of the Order of the Dawn's inquisitors but bearing the Bennett family crest. It's imbued with blessings and isn't hard to move around in at all. At one point he hated the armor, but after several cuts and scratches and a friendly paint job, he came to like it well enough; it does give him a little more protection after all.

_{R E L A T I O N S H I P S}

---

Specifically, your character's general impressions/relationships with other player characters. This section can stay blank until characters have been accepted.

World of Light

Angel to Angel

Pit’s @Yankee & Sandalphon’s @Lugubrious
Word Count: 2765 (+3 exp)
Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar

There was no way that Pit would be getting to sleep anytime soon. After returning from Split Mountain, he felt… electric. It was hard to say if it was a good or bad energy that coursed through him. He was feeling so many, well, feelings at once, making for the weird emotional cocktail he was experiencing. He was glad that he’d found Skyworld (and Midna had even promised to take him back to the mountain), but upset he couldn’t get there right away. His worry for Palutena was ever present, but now it was accompanied by hope that he’d see her again soon. He was anxious to finish the Seeker’s mission here in Midgar so he could run off to Skyworld, and he also felt a little guilty over feeling that in the first place. His duty to his goddess and his promise to help the people of Midgar were not at odds though - Palutena had charged him with protecting humanity, her people, so that was what he’d do.

But man… he really wanted to visit home!

As the night went on, meals were eaten, good news received and teammates arrived in one piece, Pit’s anxious energy slowly diminished. He was still far from sleep though, and the laps around the hideout weren’t helping.

It was inevitable that the angel would find himself in front of Sandalphon. He had been curious about her since their first brief meeting that morning, and since she was still awake at this time of night…

Pit sat near to her at the same table, just studying her at first since she was still working. He still felt the weird “energy” from her - unlike a human or a psychic. She also didn’t “feel” the same as himself or Pittoo. She had a halo, a mark of the divine, but she didn’t have wings. And since he was watching her instead of what she was doing (he could barely follow along anyway, not enough photos), he also noticed that she hadn’t blinked even once! It was weird.

“...If you cannot reach Executor, I’d recommend finding and asking Yvangelista himself. Despite his lofty station, he cares for the people and is the pinnacle of what you might call ‘reasonable authority’…fine, but be mindful.”

“...Without drawing attention, single out a single specimen and capture it for study…yes, a ‘live dissection’ may be necessary. I’m sending you the details of some contacts in the City of Glass. Notify me once it’s delivered and keep me informed about what they find…”

“...Providing you both finish your missions in a timely manner, I don’t see any harm. As for the specifics, I’m afraid I’m not well-versed in such matters, but I believe Sector 08 is known for its trendiness…flowers are more typical, as I understand it, but that could also work…well, malls are likely not open at this hour, but you may be able to find her one at a night market…”

With all the patience of a kid waiting around for an adult to be finished with work, that is to say not much, Pit eventually gave in and spoke up.

"Um, Sandalphon? I have a question."

The archangel quickly glanced his way, her lime-green pupils momentarily freezing in the form of question marks before reverting to their typical power symbols. Sandalphon wasn’t one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but the sudden movement and the slight raise of her eyebrows suggested that she’d been so focused that Pit might have actually managed to startle her. After a brief moment though, she glanced back at her screens, quickly tapping on a couple of them to mute herself.

Then she was ready. “How may I help you?” she asked the young angel.

"If you're really, really busy I'll leave you to it," he said, like he hadn't just interrupted her in the first place. "but I was wondering if you're actually an angel?"

His voice teetered on the verge of whispering due to the hour, but didn't quite get there. "'Cause I’ve never met another angel before, just heard about them. Besides Pittoo I mean, and I don't think he really counts as another angel. And you have your halo-" Pit lifted his hand and waved it above his own head about where his would sit, if he had one. "-so I wanted to know!"

He certainly hadn't missed the way her pupils flickered, and he leaned a little closer to her with his own eyes wide. "Are you a robot angel?"

After a brief moment to make sure that Pit didn’t have any more questions -he wasn’t the only one in her ears at the moment, after all- Sandalphon chose her words methodically. “It’s no trouble. I’m capable of internalizing multiple conversation sources at once, and I can type fast enough so that I need only speak to you. As for me…” She paused for a brief moment, hammering the backspace key with her right ring finger before her text cursor blasted off again. “I am not a machine of any kind, though this comparison has been drawn before. In my world, I am indeed an angel. However, I have learned that there are many kinds of angels in the World of Light. For instance, the Sankta of the Lateran Church in Sector 01, who are comparable to ordinary people. Within the Hierarchy of Laguna are abominations that assume angelic shapes. So I should clarify that in my world, angels like myself are actually a type of dragon.” With that she stopped typing for a moment, flexing her slender fingers as she gave them a brief rest.

Now that he thought about it, it made sense there are a lot of different kinds of angels. There were a lot of different kinds of everything, from humans to other species, so it would be weird if angels were the same in every world. Actually, hadn’t Viridi said something similar at one point to him? Either way he didn't think about it for long, because of the last thing Sandalphon said. It should have been impossible for Pit's eyes to get any bigger, but they did.

"You're a dragon angel? No way!"

Pit stood up and his eyes darted over her form anew, looking for any draconic traits he might have missed. "What kind of dragon things can you do? Breathe fire?! Do you have a tail?"

Unfortunately for Pit, there were no draconic traits to be found, just a very tall and tired-looking businesswoman. If Sandalphon had been any more emotive, she might have been amused by Pit’s innocent earnestness. “I cannot breathe fire. In fact, my elemental affinity is water. When I gather enough draconic energy to shapeshift into Heavenly Wings, I do have a tail, however. In that form I gain much more maneuverability and offensive power, able to debilitate targets with various afflictions. Unfortunately you were not present today when I took that form in battle…” She paused for a moment as she received a handful of file, which meticulously stored in the correct directory. “When fighting, I’m able to accrue more draconic energy if I can fight in Concentration Protocol, instead of healing. If you do well protecting our allies in battle tomorrow, I’ll be able to show you Heavenly Wings sooner.”

Though she probably hadn't meant it that way, Pit took her words as a challenge. Or perhaps a charge. A shapeshifting dragon angel! Who wouldn't want to see that? And if it came with the bonus of Sandalphon needing to heal less because less people were getting hurt, then all the better!

"You can definitely count on me for that! I'll be doing my best." Just like he always did, really. Maybe even more than his best, so they could settle everything as quickly as possible. I shouldn't keep thinking like that, he knew. Hopefully he wouldn't be distracted tomorrow, but he was sure that waking up tomorrow after some rest, he'd be able to focus.

Sandalphon nodded. “I will expect great things from you then.”

For now he still had more questions for the other angel, and since she didn't seem to mind them at the moment, Pit kept asking them.

"Can you fly when you go dragon mode?"

It seemed that Pit’s curiosity wasn’t sated quite yet. Though Sandalphon didn’t mind either way, she wanted to offer motivation, not necessarily fulfillment. “Tomorrow, you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

"Awww come on..."

It was a half-hearted complaint. Pit wasn't really disappointed in the answer, if anything Sandalphon's simple strategy for motivation worked on him like a charm. Still, at least Pit was pretty sure she was flightless in the form she took now - something they had in common. He was smiling, and he opened his mouth to continue questioning her but after attending to something, Sandalphon turned the tables.

“I happen to have a question of my own. I happen to have a great interest in theology. Angels are oftentimes the executors of a divine will. For instance, I serve the goddess Illia, and by extension the Illian Church. I would be interested in a synopsis of your own faith.”

"Uh, 'syn-op-sis'...?" Pit sounded the word out and cocked his head to the side. Context clues, Pit, he recalled Palutena advising him in the past. "...oh! You want to hear about Lady Palutena?"

Though she knew that she’d imbibed all the coffee she’d been given by Giovanna, Sandalphon couldn’t suppress the urge to reach out, pull over, and peer into the mug, just in case any dregs remained. Her pupils flickered slightly. This probably wouldn’t be enough. She glanced back over at Pit. “Yes, please,” came her belated reply.

Poor Sandalphon couldn't have known what she was in for with a request like that. Pit's smile grew wider, and if he wasn't already standing he would have jumped out of his seat at the chance to talk about the most important person not only in his life, but in his entire home world. From the get go it was clear that he was quite passionate about the subject.

"Lady Palutena is amazing! She's super strong and kind, and she knows pretty much everything. She's the Goddess of Light, Guardian of Humanity, and the ruler of all Angel Land! That's where we come from, our "universe" I guess.

There are actually a lot of gods in Angel Land. Way more than there are angels. Which is like, shouldn't it be called God Land instead? I never thought about that. Anyway, Palutena is the greatest of them all! She can do so many amazing things! Like- what'd she call it? Like-"

He broke off on a tangent, describing her teleportation, telepathy, clairvoyance, psychokinesis, hard-light constructs, summoning, transformation, and a whole host of other abilities without actually giving name to them. Complete with vaguely reenacting them when possible, of course. He didn't pause at all, though it was likely that with Sandalphon's own abilities she wouldn't need the break to process all of what Pit was telling her.

"But you know, none of that is really why she's the best. Lady Palutena really cares about people! Most of the other gods don't care about anyone but themselves! And there's always at least one trying to destroy the world. But Lady Palutena, she's always putting other people first. She hardly even uses her army unless she really needs them - did I mention she has an entire army of centurions? Luckily she doesn't have to do everything by herself. She has me!"

Here, Pit swelled up with pride. He rested his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest.

"I'm the captain of her royal bodyguard and do pretty much everything for her! She always helps me out though, gives me advice and stuff like that. She's probably the best goddess ever..."

It seemed that Pit was finally winding down. His voice took on a slightly more somber tone. "...it's been really weird going so long without hearing her voice. But I'm sure she's fine."

After that he tapped a finger against his chin, thinking about what else he could say about her.

"...and she takes her coffee with cream and two sugars!"

Sandalphon waited a moment to make sure that Pit had exhausted everything he wanted to say about his goddess, but not so long that he could think up more. “Quite the shower of praise. This Palutena sounds like a very special lady,” she summarized once given the chance to. “Not just for the quality of her character, either. In our land of Grastaea, our goddess Illia has been gone for a thousand years. Throughout all those lifetimes, the bond between humans and dragons -known as Dragalia- has endured, along with the Illian church. Difficult as it has been. To have one’s deity present and visible in the world is quite the blessing.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sure it must be difficult for you to be without her. May you find your goddess again soon.”

Pit was glad that Sandalphon could see how awesome Palutena was. Between that and her indulging him so far, he was coming to like her a lot. He wasn't even jealous that she was part dragon and thus objectively cooler than a regular angel like him. When she wished him a speedy reunion with Palutena, his smile softened. "Thank you."

There was a short moment of quiet where it looked like Pit was finished talking with his fellow angel, but that wasn't the case.

"...did you ever meet Illia before she disappeared?"

It took longer than usual for Sandalphon to answer. “...No. I was not alive during that time. My existence dates back only several centuries, to the time of the Empyrean War. Even then, I can recall very little of that time.”

"Oh." That struck Pit as rather sad. If his own goddess were to disappear like that, though he would never ever want it to happen, he would prefer to keep his good memories of her rather than never have known her in the first place.

"Well I'm sure she was really cool too," he offered. She had to have been if she inspired her church enough that it still followed her a thousand years later after she'd left. Strong faith like that was respectable. Though maybe lonely too. "Hey, I'll introduce you to Lady Palutena when we find her! I bet she'd like to meet you. She knows about other worlds, maybe she even knows about yours?"

“Maybe.” Sandalphon did not sound convinced, but then again, she didn’t sound like anything but ‘exhausted’ at the moment. “If we do meet, I would very much like to sit down and have a coffee with her.”

Her response seemed to please Pit all the same. He didn't launch into another question, just stretched his arms over his head and his wings out wide. He had burnt off a lot of his extra energy talking with (and at) Sandalphon, so he was about ready for sleep.

"Do you want a refill by the way?" His gaze flicked to her screen-like eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Or I guess you're gonna head to bed soon?"

Sandalphon shook her head. “I can't afford to sleep just yet. I assume you wouldn't know how to use the machine? Don't worry then, I can get more in a minute. Thank you.” In the dark room, the gentle light of her halo was almost soporific, contrasting the harsher light of her divine screens.

"I'm not as medieval as I look! I can work a coffee machine," he said. As long as it wasn't some really high tech one where he'd need to read the instructions at least. Still she insisted it was fine, so Pit left her to resume her work. He could still hear her tapping away as he wandered out of the main room.

As Pit looked for a comfy place to curl up, preferably one of the top bunk beds he'd used the night before, he ran into only one other soul still awake; that of the Twilight Princess headed in the opposite direction. She stopped to let him know that the Virgin Victory was actually nearby and how it might be "a better option than the mountain top" before she left to go check on its crew. That fortunate piece of news swept away most of the rest of his lingering doubts. He slept easily after that, and was sure to wake up raring to go tomorrow.

Video Games: The General Discussion & Community Thread Number Two

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jQdFe0Wiugw

@BangoSkank

SPIRITUM

I am really tempted to bring my character from a previous iteration of this RP back, but with some changes/tweaks. But I will see if I can get them to a place I'm satisfied with and how the rest of the cast shakes out. If a similar niche gets filled by someone else first, etc.

Introduction | Local Fish Arrival

Welcome, welcome! Don't be shy about being a beginner, just jump in and have fun!

Expedition to Isekai

______________________________________________________________________

At dawn Masato stirred from sleep. It was the second day. His body felt stiff and his stomach felt empty. He had slept sitting up, legs and knees drawn to his chest with his arms folded on top and head pillowed in them. Like the two nights before he hadn't expected to fall asleep, too used to his insomnia keeping him up. His new power was draining something from him and forcing his body to rest if it couldn't eat. Last night he had actually wanted to sleep, at least.

After things had calmed down last night he'd taken stock of the camp. Maeda had carted Todokawa away at some point, but they were both still around. Two had left and hadn't come back yet. It was likely that they'd lose one more, permanently.

Kogen's parting words had haunted him in sleep. He'd gone to bed feeling helpless, angry, and miserable while replaying the events over in his head. Reading the book over and over again. He couldn't stop those types of thoughts this time, was too tired to push them out of his head. Upon waking the intense feelings of the night before had dulled, but they were still present. And there was a new feeling too, like he'd woken up before something had happened. An apprehensive feeling. Without fully unfolding himself Masato rubbed his eyes on his forearms to clear some of the drowsiness away. He let out a heavy sigh. His head hurt.

It didn't take him very long to get up and start the day. A mental checklist began to form. One, check with the night watch. Since they hadn't been violently woken up in the middle of the night he assumed there wasn't an attack, but he wanted to make sure they hadn't seen anything - like a stalking monster scoping them out from the forest or something.

Two, get breakfast started. Or make sure someone was getting it started, or else risk botching it. Three, check on Endo.

He knew what he would find before he made it to the hut the other boy had been housed in. There was a heavy atmosphere around the area. His ears picked up the sound of digging, the nostalgic kind like children looking for worms. It could only have been for a grave. Masato slowly processed the information. A burial, not cremation? No, no, it made sense... if they cremated Endo, what would they even keep his ashes in? A bento? Or else dump the ashes into a hole just like that?

Masato took a detour, finding Stewart a little ways from camp. Without a shovel or spade he was forced to use his hands. He was silent as he worked. Masato thought about helping him, but he didn't. He didn't know Endo well, and he suspected that Stewart didn't want company, especially from anyone besides a close friend. He could offer his condolences though.

But he didn't.

He left the boy to finish digging. Burying a body... it seemed like the right thing to do, but it could be dangerous. An animal could smell the corpse and dig it up if the grave was too shallow. A monster could. But it seemed like Stewart had gone pretty deep already, since the hole was already deeper than the basketball player was tall.

Masato had to get his shit together, step up and make sure things got done right, which meant being the asshole again - but for now Stewart was spared from any rude reminders. If he treated this... predicament like it was school, like he really was still their student council president, then it might be easier to compartmentalize.

Considering Endo just a corpse or body was easier until Masato saw him. Endo had been in some kind of coma before, but they could tell that he was alive. Now, though he looked just the same as last night, there was something vital missing from him. Masato had left Stewart to finish digging and poked his head into the shelter. He stared at the boy's face and was quiet for a few moments out of respect, and because he was trying to pull his thoughts into place.

"If we're not interrupted, we'll have a service," he said. Interrupted by weather, by monsters, by infighting... he didn't know what might happen, but hopefully nothing did. He gave Hoshino and Ohta a sympathetic look. Tried to, at least. He wasn't sure if he succeeded. Then he gave them some space.

Three-B, see if Takehara will help with that. His next stop was to find the girl and rouse her. As he moved, he filled out more of his mental checklist.

Four, hunting. He had been against it. But losing Kanamori... losing Kogen... the class now found itself lacking in both defensive and offensive power. Killing or driving out everything around his area sounded like a good idea now, to make it as safe as possible. Masato would be out hunting today no matter what. He wanted to be useful in a more concrete way, but even if he'd wanted to stay at camp that wasn't really an option. Their awakened numbers had dwindled, Stewart and Hoshino were drained from working all night, Todokawa was... like that. So it was left to either Inaba or himself, or both of them.

Inaba's facsimile would come in handy for it. It seemed to be useful for a lot of things. Masato lifted his hand, looked at his palm. Yesterday he hadn't been able to manifest Hoshino's threads. He doubted he'd be able to magically slice through things like Inaba either. He could still use his bare hands though. Channel some destructive force through them and whatever he managed to find in the woods.

The last items on his agenda were could wait for a while.

Five, find out what Hoshino knows. Last night the pink haired boy had made a surprising statement - and he had connected with Masato. In exchange for the information Hoshino had shared with him, what of Masato's had been shared with Hoshino? And when had he begun to call Hoshino by his first name? Masato didn't want to be suspicious of his fellow student councilman, but after seeing a fraction of Hoshino's past, it was possible that the threads had made Masato think better of his classmate, or consider him closer, whether intentionally or not.

Six, deal with Oros. Masato would have to connect with Maeda and find out what he'd learned. Because right now, Masato had no idea what to do about Todokawa. Based on what the blonde said, he'd make his decision.

For now though, he was still on item three. Takehara, then service, then hunting.

What Are You Listening To?

World of Light

Word Count: 1452 (+3 exp)
Level: 5 - Total EXP: 169/50
Location: Dystopiascape - Midgar, Suoh -> Visit to Split Mountain

Pit did his best to put the daycare out of his mind. Honestly, it was easier than expected to do so - when the four allies exited the elevator and saw Arahabaki for the first time, it flushed many stray thoughts from the angel's brain.

He had clearly underestimated what Midgar considered a giant computer. "Giant" didn't even begin to describe it... it was gigantic, colossal, ginormous! Definitely the largest computer in the universe. It was so big they were standing inside of it, or at least that was what it seemed like to Pit.

To Luka too, as the psychic voiced his thoughts. So it wasn't just Pit, they definitely were inside a ginormous computer! He looked down at himself, wondering if the elevator ride was actually some kind of secret shrinking machine.

"This is probably the only computer that actually does have little people in it. No wait, they'd be normal sized people here. Normally they run on electricity!" he told Midna. The same was true of this massive machine as well; the static hum and heat of it working said as much. He turned to Sakura, responding seriously, "definitely 64! Look at it! Maybe even more!"

Once the portal was set up, they all found themselves back at the base Goldlewis had procured for them. They were the first ones back as it turned out. After escaping the area around Vandelay that morning, the others they'd split up from probably checked into something else around the city, given there were problems and factions abound.

While they started to settle in, Luka made plain his gratefulness to the Seekers. As far as the angel was concerned though, Luka was already an official part of the team. Sakura let him know it. "Heheh... make yourself at home!" he added.

The Twilight Princess stepped out then to check on her other portals, and when she returned it was with the news that there was no news. And she seemed a little upset about it.

"I'm sure they're okay," Pit told her. "If they all stuck together, then they have two healers." He knew Blazermate was had been with the Seekers for pretty much all of their campaign, so she must be reliable. And though the other one was a much more recent addition, Halo (Should I go back to calling her... uh, was it Sandal...phon?) had already proven herself.

Anyway, he, Midna, Luka, and Sakura had time to kill while they waited for the others to return. Though turning in early after all the stress of the day sounded great, Pit probably wouldn't be able to get to sleep until at least hearing back from the others. So in the mean time he found a free spot and did some preening, combing his fingers through his feathers to clean and straighten them out. His wings were his lifeline in more ways than one, and this was a good way to assess the damage they'd taken too. Even small wounds felt way more painful on his wings than any other part of his body, so it was hard to tell how injured they were without actually looking. Thankfully, Roxas' earlier healing spell had pretty much taken care of him.

He glanced up when Midna suggested leaving the city. Right, they could just use her portals and go right in and out of Midgar, not just inside of it! Man, how handy!

"Oooh, I'll go!" he chirped, hopping up out of his seat.

In seconds the four of them were whisked through the Twilight Realm and to the peak of Split Mountain. Naturally it was chillier up here than in the heart of a megalopolis, but even has Pit pulled his wings in as a makeshift cloak around himself he noted it was way less cold than he'd expected the top of a mountain to be.

Pit breathed in deep, enjoying the crisp air. He gazed at the "split" that gave the place its name, then he promptly ran to the edge of the platform they were standing on. He leaned over the edge, checking out everything he could see below. It was pretty cool to see the aftermath of the Seekers' adventures that he hadn't been around for. There was some a cloud of cold a ways down the cliffside that prevented him from seeing too far. One of the Aurumtails came over to sniff at him, and he rubbed its head as his gaze drifted upward. Pit's eyes followed the flying colossus that Midna assured them was friendly for a little bit before he looked over the horizon instead.

"Do you think we could see Alcamoth from here?" he said, squinting at the various settlements that were visible. One could see a lot from up here, and if he remembered the vague map they'd been making, their home base was right on the other side of the desert. Midgar, of course, could hardly be missed due to its sheer size and the alien clouds that hung over it. All things considered, it wasn't too far away on the continent either. Maybe Alcamoth wasn't as close as he'd thought, since he couldn't see it.

The impromptu mountain trip turned out to be pretty nice. Pit was glad they'd come. After some more flitting around the area, checking out the space the guardian had been held, where the bell had fallen, and the cute little animals, he took a seat next to the others. With the sky all around them, it was sort of an easy conversation topic. Pit disagreed with Sakura here; he'd seen Galeem's overwhelming power first hand, and if so many powerful people could fall to it so quickly he thought it was definitely possible for it to gather every universe. Travel between said universes was already possible, to some extent, and it was far from the first multi-universal terror. It was just the most dangerous one.

He stared up at the sky and its celestial bodies with everyone else. They didn't capture his attention as much as the clouds that still hung up there, carrying settlements large enough that they could just be seen from where the Seekers were. Looking at them made Pit's chest ache, not with homesickness but something similar to it.

"I wonder what's on those islands," he pondered aloud, keeping his voice down as Sakura dozed off. The islands in the sky could be the highest points in the entire World of Light, since they floated far above even Split Mountain. He'd love to visit them, especially because...

"That one kind of looks like Skyworld," he said, grinning and pointing out one of the marble cities in the sky to Midna and Luka like they were cloud watching. He'd seen his Skyworld from the outside so many times, at many different angles, whenever he was swept up to return or save it. This island looked so similar to it. Palutena's Temple had such a distinctive silhouette, what with its giant statue of the goddess with her wings fully unfurled and staff held high in the air, and the island even had that too.

Wait.

"...that is Skyworld!" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet and pointing it out again. He'd probably knocked Sakura out of her nap, but he couldn't feel bad about that just then. All of the day's fatigue seemed to disappear, and the angel's eyes were shiny and wide.

"Wow, I can't believe it! Its so close... kind of!" The boy's wings had spread open, twitching like he wanted to fly right up there at that very moment. He did, he really did, but that wasn't possible. Lady Palutena! Lady Palutena! he thought, trying to make his thoughts as loud as possible so the Goddess of Light might just pick them up from here. Unfortunately, as was usual by now, there was no answer.

No matter, he could just visit and find Palutena himself! Pit whirled around to face the small group of friends, but with Midgar still just visible in the background behind them he was hit with reality. Under the Extinction Belt were the rest of the Seekers he'd come with, still fighting. There were still innocent people suffering and in danger. There was still an ongoing crisis in that city, one he'd promised to help stop. Pit's smile faltered for a moment. When it came back it was larger and a bit forced.

"I have to go there," he said, and then, "once we're done in Midgar can you take me back here, Midna? I'll find a way up."

He didn't know how, but he would. His duties came first. If Palutena was up there, she wouldn't have it any other way.

So I just post here, and...

Welcome to the guild! Not to worry, all skill levels are accepted here. I hope you enjoy your stay!

World of Light

Cage Match

Location: Mercy Dreams Fifth Layer
Jesse’s @Zoey Boey | Ganondorf’s @Double | Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee
Word Count: 4032 (+5 Exp)

As he struggled to navigate his way back to rejoin the Koopa Troop, Ganondorf instead happened across another curiosity. It appeared to be a cage at first, but closer inspection revealed it to be an elevator lift - albeit a somewhat oppressive looking one. Ganondorf reached up and activated his link pearl, ”I think I found a way further down.” he announced to the other Seekers, ”Some kind of elevator lift, shaped like a cage. I’m going to check it out.”

With this he cautiously stepped into the cage-like lift. When he did, the cage locked itself shut and began to make a descent. In fact it descended past the fourth layer and all the way down to the bottom layer of the prison, something the Gerudo King wasn’t expecting. At the bottom, the cage unlocked and allowed Ganondorf to exit from it. Whatever this layer was, to Ganondorf it looked an awful lot like a sewer, except with the usual archways caged off and the areas beyond them appearing to serve as prison cells. The floor appeared to be covered with a sickening green liquid that could very well have been sewage or something even worse, if it didn’t hiss and sputter like boiling oil. The thin stone walkway resembled a dock or footbridge of sorts.

”Lovely…” Ganondorf mused to himself, suddenly regretting having come down here.

“And so we meet again.” Jesse said, floating from up above, having hopped over the railing and floated on down after leaving the goblins to their fate. Her plan seemed to be working so she didn’t wanna risk fucking it up by doing anything more.

Jesse stood on the middle walkway, getting a look at the place. Including the mysterious bodies hooked up in chains. “Ah. Corpses suspended mid-air. Nostalgic.” Jesse joked darkly.

“Well, if there’s anything in this place, at this point it’s gotta be down here.” She began to jog forward.

The speech and movement drew attention Jesse and Ganondorf's way, though thankfully not from the hulking jailers that lurked about on this level. The vague feeling of being watched lasted only a moment before two allies revealed themselves.

"That's what we were thinking too," Primrose said. She'd since recovered from her run in with an illuminator on the layer above, so while her clothes had some small tears in them and her countenance was more severe than usual, she seemed fine in general. The same could be said for Therion, though his cat ears were low on his head and his tail was partly curled around his leg, expressing his discomfort with the prison.

"We haven't had a chance to search this level yet, seems like we got here only a little before you two."

In truth though, there wasn’t much to search. On this whole layer there seemed to be nothing other than this solitary bridge, stretching from one end of the huge acid pool all the way to the other. At either end stood a heavy metal door, much larger than any seen in Mercy Dreams so far, and judging by the suitably huge locks they were by far the most secure as well. Four hallways branched off from the open area, two at each end to form the Ɪ shape found on all of the prison’s layers, but there was way to reach them. Then again, each archway also featured a hefty contraption of chains and winches, either for raising and lowering hanging prisoners to dunk them in a deadly acid bath, or for raising more stone bridges from beneath the bog’s surface.

This layout meant there was nowhere for the newcomers to hide from the two abhorrent jailers, and already the malformed behemoths were on their way. Each one seemed to be a hideous conglomerate of corpse flesh, outfitted with a gaping mouth, crudely wrapped in the dressings of a berserker, and bloated into a pustule-ridden mass on one side. In addition to the cages fused with their rancid meat, which rattled with every step, they held in their functional arms additional cages to wield as weapons. One simply carried a giant cage, while the other bore three smaller ones on chains for use as a triple flail. Approaching from the cells they guarded at either end of the bridge, they closed in on the newcomers in a pincer maneuver, the bridge shaking beneath every plodding footfall.

Judging that she had time enough for one dance before the monstrosities got within range, Primrose went right into a performance with the macabre hall as her stage. Her steps were quick and fierce, and ending with one hand lifted up into the air and the other splayed out in front of her, palm pointed to her companions. "The Lion Dance," she said, bestowing increased attack power upon the four of them.

Though fully planning to run support against the zombies, Therion appreciated the buff nonetheless. He stuffed his hands under his poncho, and when he withdrew them one held magic-based crystal darts between his fingers while the other held regular throwing knives. He glanced between both jailers on either side of the narrow floor. It was exactly an advantageous battleground for them.

”The keepers of this section, I presume.” mused the Gerudo King, showing no fear nor any signs of intimidation in the face of these hulking abominations. Instead he stretched forth a hand and calmly summoned his Phantom self to serve as backup. Similar to Jesse, Phantom Ganon could float freely around the corridor and thus would not obstruct the path for Ganondorf nor any of the other Seekers present, ”Let’s give these… things an acid bath of their own.” he calmly said, now snapping his fingers in order to summon one of his Strikers - Blast Hornet. Just like Phantom Ganon, the Reploid could fly and thus stay clear of the walkway.

Phantom Ganon went to work, using his trident to hurl crackling orbs of dark energy at the jailer carrying the single large cage. Simultaneously, Blast Hornet used his Search Attack and locked onto the other jailer with a brief holographic crosshair before unleashing a trio of bee drones that would zone in on the target. Only then did the Gerudo King finally draw his twin greatswords. But he held off before attacking, deciding to wait and see which of his two summons were struggling the most to inform his decision on which jailer to attack.

Jesse settled her shoes on the stones below, eyeing the two jailors. While she could always get away, not everyone was so lucky. “If you wanna get over it for free,” Jesse said, summoning forth Uncle Sven to throw down an Elastic Ooze a short distance behind her. “Use the ooze and you can jump real high.” She explained to the Octopath Travelers.

"I'll take you up on that," Therion said. He didn't do so immediately, waiting for a better opening to make sure he could clear the jump. That meant the jailer nearest to the ooze, the one wielding a single huge cage like a bludgeon, had to get a little closer. It was lurching itself forward at a brisk pace for its body size, so it wouldn’t be much longer now.

Then Jesse began blasting, staying where she was with Primrose and Therion for now. At first she struck its head, but the creature didn’t seem to react at all, the psychic bullets thunking into it like clay. Compressing her lips, and not unfamiliar with such enemies, she aimed for the glowing pustules that might be a little more receptive to damage. “Come on, you big ugly bastard. Pop for me.” Jesse taunted, advancing towards the triple caged Jailor.

The travelers joined in on the offensive. For Primrose's part she had a few ways of getting behind the monsters, but she followed the FBC director's lead; literally accompanying her as she made to meet the jailer part way down the single stone path. Primrose conjured Black Fire Orbs and flung them where they exploded against the abomination's bulky frame, adding magical pressure to go with Jesse and Blast Hornet's attacks.

At the same time, Therion was pinpointing the boils on the other jailer while the phantom Ganon blasted it with dark magic. It was apparent that the jailer’s skin was difficult to damage, but by comparison the pustules were more delicate. One had already popped under the phantom’s dark orbs, oozing some disgusting liquid. When the second was burst open by Therion’s thrown daggers, the zombie flinched for a moment. Then, it charged the rest of the distance.

A lull in the phantom's barrage saw Therion take the chance to jump, springing off of the ooze and over the thing just before it hefted its cage up to retaliate. With one hand it tried and failed to catch the thief springing in its direction. With the other, it brought its weapon to bear. The monster let out a garbled roar, swinging its massive cage in the flying horseman’s direction. Its attack speed was faster than its movement; a collision with the spectral clone of the king of evil imminent.

The collision was a hard hit, but mainly resulted in the rider abandoning the horse to float around on his own. Then the Phantom got off two more shots with its dark orbs before his time ran out and he vanished from the battlefield. Not that Therion needed to worry about being alone, as now the genuine article had made his choice on who to focus on and had chosen to aid the Orsterran. And Ganondorf was keen to take advantage of any opportunity he spotted. He did so by bringing both his greatswords down onto the arms of the jailer whilst it was swinging its cage at the phantom. Under normal circumstances this would have resulted in outright dismemberment. That didn’t seem to be the case this time, perhaps because this thing was made to be tougher than a normal opponent.

Therion made a three point landing behind the jailer, assuming it would keep its attention on the phantom and the majority of enemies in front of it. Staring at its back he was surprised to see that the glowing growths were only on its chest. Its musculature was tightly woven, and there were no obvious weak points to speak of on this side... but he was already back here, so Therion summoned a spark of magic to his own hand. He cast Wildfire, setting the flame to engulf the monstrous jailer.

Rather than ravage the zombie’s flesh, the blaze was more like a hot, irritating tickle. With both of its mitts on the cage this time the jailer twisted its body as much as it was able, winding up for a swing. When it released the strength of its arms and the weight of the cage carried the bludgeon forward in a wide, 360 degree spin that threatened everything ahead and behind it.

Ganondorf had only moments to react, bringing up both his blades in a shielding motion to try and absorb the blow he was too big to dodge on his own. Thanks to that and his enormous strength from the Triforce, Ganondorf kept himself from taking major damage. He was, however, pushed back a few paces by the sheer force of the swing. Nothing he couldn’t make up for.

If that cage had been a solid object without gaps to let the air through, the pressure alone might be able to knock lighter people off of the walkway and into the acid. Therion could feel that as he hurried to get out of the way. The maneuver caught him off guard, slowing his reaction time just enough that the metal clipped him when he jumped backwards out of range. Even that glancing blow nearly took his arm off and toppled the thief into the bubbling liquid. Therion nursed the limb as the jailer completed his arc and came to a stop with his back to the Orsterran once more. Not as safe back here as I thought.

The corpse golem stood in front of the Gerudo king, taking only a few precious seconds after recovering from its own spin to lift the cage up over its head and slam it down toward Ganondorf, one bright yellow pus-filled protrusion still pulsing on its shoulder.

Once again Ganondorf had to think fast. He quickly thrust his blades forward while the cage was lifted over the monster’s head, sinking them into its torso. Again, under normal circumstances, a hit like this would have been devastating. But not so for this abominable jailer. The cage came crashing down, but rather than collide into the Gerudo King’s head, it was stopped. Ganondorf had released his grip on his weapons, leaving them impaled into the jailer so he could use his now-freed hands to catch the cage and stop its swing with his own monstrous strength.

And then Ganondorf tried to use his strength to rip the cage from the jailer’s grip to disarm it of its weapon, ”Ha ha ha!” laughed the King of Evil, ”Let’s just see how strong you actually are!”

He found the jailer's strength on par with him. The thing grunted, first trying to pull the cage out of Ganondorf's grasp and then pressing it instead with the intent to crush the king. During the struggle while neither of them ceded ground, Therion got back into action. He scaled the back of the massive jailer, wincing at the squelch under his feet as he perched on its shoulder. From there, he got a good glimpse at the state of battle - and the remaining presumed weak spot that he immediately went for.

The jailer wasn't pleased. Keeping a firm hold on its weapon it thrashed its upper body, forcing Therion to hold and jostling Ganondorf in their tug of war. Then it roared, and from its very body smaller, human sized zombies began to emerge. Some wielded weapons and armor, and all of them were angry, shrieking, and eager to rip into the Seekers. A couple climbed to reach the thief while the others exploded out from the jailer towards the enemy holding their host down.

Ganondorf had no choice. He released his grip on the cage and lunged back a couple of paces in the face of the zombies now suddenly assailing him. Thankfully they weren’t much to write home about, and the Gerudo King could use his superior size and strength to punch and kick them aside, incidentally knocking them into the acid in the process.

When he had a moment, Ganondorf went ahead and summoned five Moblin archers who appeared on the stone walkway behind him. Two of them leveled their bows and shot fire arrows at the zombies going after Therion in order to lend him a hand - managing to bullseye one of them resulting in them falling from the jailer’s body in a flaming heap. Ganondorf then lunged forward while powering up a Warlock Punch. The jailer seemed to notice this and swung his cage to meet with the Gerudo King’s fist.

Ganondorf’s fist smashed through the front bars of the cage. But the hollow nature of the cage threw off what was left of the punch’s momentum and prevented the attack from breaking the back end bars. But this did give Ganondorf a way to gain a stronger hold on the cage than he had the first time around, and he went ahead and took advantage of that. Now he’d be able to keep the jailer from swinging it’s cage and in a way that would strengthen his footing against the creature’s strength.

At the same time Therion's efforts had bore fruit. With the Moblins keeping the new zombies off his back for the most part, he drove a dagger into the last pustule and felt it finally give. Immediately the jailer halted its retaliation against Ganondorf, dropping to its knees with a heavy thud like its energy had just given out. When it hit the ground, the smaller cage embedded into its chest popped open. Inside, another zombie, notably different from the others. The thief hadn't missed it during all this, but he assumed it was some unfortunate soul stuck to its captor's body. Now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe it was just the nature of the undead, but it didn’t look happy about being “freed.” It was grafted to the cage, sure, but it actually looked upset. That its defense had been breached?

Therion always relied on his hunches, and he did the same now. If he was wrong, then oh well, he wasn’t about to cry over hurting some random zombie. The stinging dagger sunk a lot more easily into this thing’s body. It flinched, and the massive jailer flinched too. They were connected in more ways than one!

"It's this thing!" the thief shouted, drawing Ganondorf's attention towards it.

Ganondorf didn’t need to be told twice. He released his hold on the cage he had broken and made a lunge for the zombie. The triforce glowed on the back of his right hand as the Gerudo King gripped the undead’s neck while his other hand gripped its side. He pulled with all his might, even propping his foot onto the body of the jailer in order to put as much oomph into it as he could. The more strength he channeled, the brighter the Triforce shone on his hand. When at last the zombie’s body tore from the flesh of the jailer, Ganondorf lifted it straight up by the throat, only to bring it right back down into an explosive Flame Choke that dunked the zombie directly into the acid below the bridge. After some violent thrashing about, the zombie finally succumbed to the acid bath and appeared to be dead at last.

The macabre amalgamation that it had been attached to sunk to the ground while its body disintegrated. Therion hopped off of it, landing next to Ganondorf where they watched the actual body sink under.

"Damn," was all Therion said, pleasantly surprised the king took care of that monster so sufficiently.

On the other side the three clubbed Jailor lunged forward, going to slam its makeshift flail on Primrose and Jesse as recompense. Since Primrose was at her side, Jesse assumed she had some spell in mind in case this happened. So Jesse took a hopping step to the left and Evaded out of the way in a blur, the clubs smashing into the stone where she just stood. Jesse Levitated behind the creature and landed back on the walkway.

Ahead of her, the jailer was pulling back its arm to prepare for another blow. Primrose had relied only on the protection of her Baldur Shell while casting the Black Fire Orb - and it held for the one attack before shattering. Primrose blinked in surprise, clearly underestimating either the strength of the giant's swing or the time it took for the shell to repair itself. She would take care not to put absolute faith in it going forward, and for now she finished her spell and hurled another condensed ball of dark flames. It burst against its body at the same time that she took hold of her polearm in both hands. Jesse’s more precise shooting weakened the boils on its body enough that the stray attacks from Primrose or Blast Hornet could rupture them, and now the dancer stabbed open the final pustule with her lance. The zombie roared as its knees began to buckle. Primrose drew her own arm back and stabbed again viciously, sending the jailer falling over backward.

The flail’s cages fell ahead of it, forcing Primrose to back off lest she be hit, while its body slammed into the walkway just in front of the red headed parautilitarian. The knotted corpse flesh reeked. On its front, a little cage’s door flew open, where inside was a much smaller, angry looking undead.

Jesse blinked down at the furious zombie as it tried to pull itself back into the cage. It was like tumorous little growth. “Um.” Jesse said, before shredding into the little zombie with her rapid fire Spin pistol. Despite its diminutive stature, it was made of the same tough stuff as the Jailer. Though because of its small size, the bullet hit a lot more of it, so it sprayed its rotten blood everywhere as it scrambled back inside the cage. As soon as it shut the door behind it the Jailer came back to ‘life’ and Jesse evaded backwards.

“It’s like a mecha!” Jesse shouted, though Primrose probably didn’t understand the reference. “The little guy is controlling it?” She clarified. As the Jailer began to get back to its feet, Jesse ripped one of the bodies from its hooks and Launched it, chains and all, into the Jailer to smack it off balance. The pustules had turned red. “It’s pissed!” Jesse Evaded backwards as it swung its maces multiple times towards her, swiping back and forth.

Her clarification helped. Understanding shone in Primrose’s dark eyes. "I see," she said, but he couldn’t make use of the knowledge just yet. The jailer raged, swinging its ridiculous flail around it with reckless abandon. The cages smashed against the walkway ahead and behind it, against their hanging counterparts, and into the acid itself sending up dangerous splashes of liquid, all to try and lash the intruders facing it.

After his second striker disappeared, the remaining three Moblins that Ganondorf summoned did an about-face and fired their volleys at the three-club Jailer in order to provide some extra cover fire for Jesse and Primrose while the jailer stood back up. Unfortunately any attempt to get a jumpstart on breaking its pustules again was thwarted by the skin around them turning an irate red as the flesh hardened up. Primrose was quick to abandon those Moblins, especially when the debris of the flail’s impacts started flying. Pelted by chunks of stone and flecks of stinging acid, she blocked what she could with her lance and stepped back while one sweep of the cages saw all three of them sent flying off the narrow stretch of ground. If she moved back anymore she risked stepping into the battle directly behind her, so now she had to move up.

The dancer blinked forward, her Ravaging Confession bringing her behind the corpse golem on the same side as Jesse. She slashed at it with her polearm, black and icy flames mixing together where the weapon struck, but as expected it didn’t have much effect. Jesse was right, the little one must be its true body.

The jailer whipped its flails around as it turned, the heavy metal cages threatening to crush their bones at best, and sweep them into flesh melting acid at worst.

This time Primrose took to the air herself; she jumped and let her scarf carry her higher over the attack. At this point the boils on the jailer’s body were still red, though discoloration was beginning - possibly fading back to yellow. It didn’t matter much to the dancer’s new strategy. Her Vengeful Spirit passed right through the cage bars protecting the smaller undead, the painful burn it inflicted making the little zombie rattle around. With plenty of mana left, there was more where that came from.

Jesse followed Primrose into the air as the attack swept beneath their feet. Switching to her Pierce function, while Primrose blasted fire Jesse lined up a shot on the cage and the creature within. With a kick of the gun she unleashed her high caliber round to join the Vengeful Spirit spell. The already weakened zombie controller was soon nothing but ash under the weight of the combined attack, and the rest of the jailer's hulking form soon followed.

“Woo! Big jumps.” Jesse exclaimed to her fellow high jumping ally as she floated back to the stone floor.

Primrose smiled at her, amused. "Mhm. Nice work."

Very nearby, the boys had already cleaned up. Without the undead jailers lumbering around, the main floor of the fifth level of the prison was clear.