Lugubrious

World of Light

Everdream Valley - Port Meridian

Level 7 Goldlewis (119/70) Level 6 Sandalphon (67/60)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double
Word Count: 1309

Thunder resounded across Everdream Valley, spurring citizens, farm animals, and heroes alike to make a beeline for safety. With Roland at his side, Goldlewis hustled back toward the Virgin Victory, double-time. While the fixer took and held pole position without much difficulty, his companion managed to keep up. By now it came as no surprise that the veteran was spry for his age, and once he managed to work up some momentum he could barrel along at a decent clip. Still, the fatigue he’d accumulated by now was no joke, and having to switch back into action mode just when he’d started to rest sure took the wind out of his sails. These two minutes would probably take every last ounce of stamina that Goldlewis had left, thanks in part to the heavy burden of his coffin. He could only pray that the others all made it, and that they’d be able to give this new Consul the slip. If nothing else, Y had made it clear that this world’s custodians could offer Guardian-level challenges.

At least the pair’s route didn’t press them too hard. Ever wary of entanglements, Goldlewis had internalized the path he and Bravo traveled from Port Meridian to the nearby sheep farm, and it offered little in the way of hazards. The only thing that troubled him as he chugged along was the thought of running into the Consul himself. Still, the cloud-to-cloud lightning in the dark skies overhead seemed to be getting worse by the minute, so even as his heart pounded the veteran didn’t ease up on his pace. In no time he and Roland left the pastures of wind-whipped grass in their rear-view mirror, charging through cobblestone-laden streets as they zeroed in on the sound of breaking waves.

When the Virgin Victory finally came into view, bobbing on the storm-tossed sea at the end of the port’s longest wharf, Goldlewis spared a half-second to check his stopwatch. Thirty seconds left. He could see others jumping, climbing, or flying aboard, and the golden glow of Sandalphon’s halo brought his attention to her and Midna perched atop the ship’s cabin on lookout duty. The roar of the Virgin Victory’s engines filled the air, not unlike the scream of an airplane’s turbines just prior to takeoff. It was time to go. Though his muscles ached and his lungs burned, and scattered droplets lashed him, Goldlewis grit his teeth and pushed his weary body into overdrive.

“RaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”

This space-age airship had never been made to dock at an old-fashioned port, so it lacked any sort of convenient gangway. He’d have to reach the upper deck himself, only his double-jump wouldn’t be enough to get him up there, and there wasn’t enough time to climb. In the heat of the moment, he could think of only one way to get that height. “Roland!” he barked, his voice ragged as he slid to a stop on the docks. “There ain’t time to explain. Hold still!” Before the fixer could question him, Goldlewis set down his coffin and fully charged his Dust. The next second the UMA’s arm burst from the coffin in a mighty uppercut that struck Roland in the chest and launched him high into the air, somehow inflicting much less damage than such a blow probably should. Doing this allowed Goldlewis to leap up after Roland, flying much further and higher than he would’ve been able to otherwise. A moment later, both tumbled down onto the Virgin Victory’s upper deck.

“Sorry, partner,” Goldlewis wheezed, completely spent. “That was all I could think of. Sure did the job though, huh?”

“That’s everyone. Let’s go.” Sandalphon called from her vantage point. With Goldlewis and Roland, everyone was accounted for, even the surly Savra, Asbestos, thanks to Roxas. Her telecommunication miracle seemed to be fully online, establishing an open line that allowed everyone to hear her despite the howling winds and near-constant thunder–including the Virgin Victory’s crew in the bridge. Immediately the vessel’s anti-gravity hover drive came online, and as the Virgin Victory began to lift from the water. Sandalphon rose from her sniper nest, jogged across the ship’s roof, then dropped down onto the deck with the others. A moment later, the positron main engine and dual nuclear pulse sub-engines fired, though the low altitude and realities of in-atmosphere flight strictly limited their output. Still, the resulting thrust was more than enough to slide the ship through the water, then propel it through the air once its dripping hull rose from the sea completely. Port Meridian slowly fell away as the Virgin Victory, aimed northward toward the open ocean beyond the bay, began to pick up speed.

“Full speed ahead!” Shirogane announced over Sandalphon’s group call. “Fold up yer tray tables and fasten yer seatbelts, folks, ‘cause this li’l ship o’ mine can reach a top speed of one thousand knots. That’s over a thousand miles per hour to you an’ any other Americans aboard, Mr. Dickinson!”

Goldlewis could only blink in astonishment at the news, his mouth ajar. “Huh? Speeds like that from black tech? You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

Shirogane cackled. “We-he-heeell, we still ain’t fully repaired or nothin’, so I kinda am kiddin’ ya. In truth, we can’t even break the sound barrier right now, but this baby’s still fast enough to leave that crummy Consul in the dirt.”

The second the engineer finished, the stern voice of Commander Nelson cut in after him. “Let’s not get too comfortable. We’re not out of the woods just yet.”

As if on cue the voice of Alice MacGregor reached the Seekers next, calm but urgent. “Commander. One bogey in pursuit, closing fast.”

“Already!?” Shirogane yelped in disbelief.

With the Virgin Victory still below the angry storm clouds, lightning flashed overhead, and thunder roared. After a few more moments, however, one bolt streaked across the sky visible from the ship’s upper deck, slower but a lot longer than the rest. The anomaly caught Sandalphon’s eye, and as the wary archangel watched, the bundle of lightning oriented itself directly to the left of the vessel. “There,” she alerted the others, forced to face the reality that the Consul had somehow caught up to them after all. Sandalphon could make out some sort of wheeled vehicle, essentially a chariot, drawn by two big, burly unicorns who galloped through the open air with a trail of arcing electricity in their wake. In the chariot stood the man of the hour, a Consul of prodigious bulk who wore a round, golden shield on the arm with which he gripped the reins.

The next moment, his booming voice echoed across the Virgin Victory, amplified by magical means. “BRAVE MORTALS, I BID YOU WELCOME, FOR THOUGH THIS WORLD IS OURS, THE SKY WILL ALWAYS BE MINE.” He paused as he raced overhead, a streak of lightning crossing from the left side of the ship to the right. “I AM MOEBIUS Z. LORD OF LIGHTNING. MY SPECIAL POWER IS ‘LEGACY’, GRANTING ME ALL THAT WAS MADE IN MY IMAGE.”

So saying, Z lifted up his free hand. There came a bright flash, and a brilliant lightning bolt appeared in his hand like a javelin, as if plucked from the sky, buzzing angrily as it blazed in his grasp. With a grunt he hurled it downward, and it struck the Virgin Victory with a tremendous crash, rocking the entire ship as its systems flickered. Even after the blast concluded, particles left over from the electric explosion coalesced into a handful of Zeustrike minions. The living clouds, purple in color but armored in gold, dispersed to keep the Seekers occupied while Z alternated between taking potshots and attacking the Virgin Victory itself.

“THANKS TO YOU, MANY GUARDIANS HAVE FALLEN. THAT IS NO MEAN FEAT. CONSIDER ME IMPRESSED! BUT YOUR LITTLE SIDESHOW HAS REACHED ITS END. I, MOEBIUS Z, WILL OBLITERATE EVERY ONE OF YOU, HERE AND NOW!”

At this point, Goldlewis couldn't muster up the strength for heroism. "Good Lord," he grumbled as he lifted his coffin onto his shoulder. With a hefty grunt he slammed it down, unleashing a Shield Burst that reinforced the team with minor defensive barriers. "I'm plumb tuckered out, but I can still lend a hand protectin' y'all," he shouted at the others amidst the wind and thunder. "If ya need a big shield, ya better holler loud!"

Having retreated to the rear of the group, Sandalphon took up a support position. It went without saying that the archangel had everyone's back. "No need to yell. My lightline connects us, after all. Just call me for emergency healing," she told the Seekers calmly. "Or to prepare a follow-up shot."

Sandswept Sky - Gerudo Town

Level 13 Ms Fortune (116/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Osvald’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count:

Now that Ganondorf’s audience with Gerudo Town’s chief was over and done with, their negotiations having seemingly resulted in the best possible scenario, a weight had been lifted off of Nadia’s shoulders. Despite the warlord’s rather audacious claims earlier, no drastic action would be taken today, and the status quo here would remain a while longer. From how Ganondorf spoke earlier, even a violent uprising hadn’t struck her as too much of a stretch, given his personality in conjunction with the allegations laid at his feet by Asgore. In the end, though, Ganondorf showed admirable restraint. Cooler heads prevailed, much to her relief, and now she -not to mention the ‘voe’ among the Seekers- had the run of this place. From here the team could probably split up and spend some time here in Gerudo Town however they pleased, and even if the petitioners’ presence earned them some extra scrutiny from the locals, Nadia’s discretion meant that nobody ought to bat an eye at her while she went about her business–not that she planned to do any more heists today. For now, after a tiresome battle and even more tiresome journey through the Under, the cat burglar just wanted to take it easy.

Since she’d volunteered and everything, Nadia figured she ought to step away from the group so she could let the others know. Before doing so, however, she made sure to check in with Primrose so the dancer wouldn’t leave her behind. “You mentioned a tailor or something on the train, right? I’ve been making do, but I could sure use a purr-fect fit. I mean, just look how this thing ended up.” She gestured toward her garb. With the desert heat beating down on her, she’d shed her black, militaristic trench coat once more, then wrapped it around her waist so she wasn’t just galavanting around in a leotard. Still, the way all that black soaked up the blazing rays only further illustrated the inefficiency of her wardrobe malfunction’s stopgap solution. Her brow already glistened with sweat. “Heck, I’d settle for an actual skirt at this point, even if the price made it income pleated. Not skinny jeans though, I could never get into them.” She giggled, then sighed. “Sorry, sorry. Guess I’m just clothes-minded. Maybe you could show me where the tailor is? Otherwise I’ll have to hit up the fabric shop for new material…”

With the threat of even more clothes puns hanging in the air, Nadia stepped away and activated her linkpearl. “Hey everyone~” she sang. “Ganondorf’s made nice with the locals. Looks like you guys are off the hook. Come on in and join us if you want. Just, uh, y’know. Don’t be weird. Steer clear of the public baths maybe. See ya round!”

After that Nadia headed back over toward Primrose. Though the guys were now allowed into Gerudo Town, she wondered if they’d even get a chance to relax here. After entering they might very well be scrutinized every step of the way, not even out of wariness necessarily, but just curiosity. That wouldn’t be much fun, but at least Nadia could make the most of her time here. Smiling at Primrose, she gave an affirmative nod. “Thready when you are.”

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

Lewa

While the fire cyclone looked like a promising start to the otherworlders' offense against the verminous behemoth, it would take more than that to put the centipede down. When its injuries drove it into a maddened rampage, others quickly renewed their efforts to finish the thing off. As much as Lewa wanted to charge into the fray, Lewa stopped himself when he realized that Remilia had not only taken a beating, but also had been knocked straight toward the hatchling centipedes. With their numbers thinned out and the much bigger threats in the spotlight, the fodder had mostly faded from the fighters' minds, but the danger they posed en masse to someone who couldn't fight back was very real. "Little one!" Lewa called, worried for his ally's safety for the first time.

Quickly, however, he realized that he needn't be so concerned. Driven over the edge by terror, the vampire went from refined little lady to bloodthirsty berserker, driving her lance through the segmented horrors with reckless abandon. Lewa balked from the sudden and frightening change in her demeanor. "Oh! Ah, nevermind." She probably needed no help from him against the small fry; better to assist against the main threat. When he turned his attention back to the oversized centipede, though, he found something even more off-putting. In that brief moment he'd looked away, the monstrosity had snapped up Mokou's whole arm! "Oh no!" Lewa went into overdrive, charging across the gunk-splattered clearing with his axe at the ready to cleave the creature in half.

Well before he arrived, the vile beast detonated, its head disappearing in a violent burst of flame. Bug slime sizzled and smoked, offensively malodorous to all but Lewa himself, as the chunks flew in all different directions. With the main offender down, it quickly became obvious that there were more where that came from--a situation that Youmu quickly attempted to rectify. Lewa moved to assist, his biomechanical strength a serious asset behind the weight of his heavy axeblade. In sharp contrast to Youmu's flashy, fanciful sword techniques, he attacked with practical simplicity, effective against his foes and predictable for his allies. It wasn't long, however, before the swordswoman turned a centipede's clash against it, seizing the chance to eliminate the monster in style with an incredibly impressive cleave. Such a thing didn't seem possible, let alone practical, but this world continued to defy Lewa's expectations.

The execution marked a turning point in the battle. Joker backed up Remilia against the final giant centipede, and together the two whittled the writhing horror down. Lewa tried to help where he could, but he mostly focused on not impeding the two, either with his large frame, huge swings, or buffeting winds. Fittingly enough, it was Remilia who dispatched it, punctuating her emphatic, theatrical proclamations with a climactic deathblow. The next second, the monster hurtled backward with stunning speed despite its size, crashing through the foliage in a swath of destruction. Stunned by the sight of the dramatic execution, Lewa barely even registered Mokou's spontaneous combustion and reconstitution. In the aftermath of the battle, the toa of air stood rather awkwardly among the crowd of little organics, humbled by everything he'd just witnessed. Considering some of the rahi he'd taken on across Mata Nui, he knew that size wasn't everything, but this episode really went to show that big things came in small packages.

After a few moments, Lewa cleared his throat. "Well fought, everyone. I'm relieved-glad to see everyone in one piece." He hovered around his allies, inspecting them as he tried to figure out who might be injured beneath all the grit and grime of battle. In particular he scrutinized Remilia, who might very well be affected more mentally than physically. "Is everyone healthy-fine?"

World of Light

@BlueFireVulpix I forgot to mention you for the feedback for your sheet. Overall it's good, just some small changes/adjustments and we can start thinking about where to include your Witch Doctor.

World of Light

A create-a-character, I see. Always an interesting proposition. They typically have to be given strong personalities from the player since they often have very little in canon, and it looks like you've done so. An engaging character that's enjoyable and interesting to play typically leads to the best results when it comes to character and world interaction, after all.

For a moment I thought the Great Sky Fire referred to Galeem, but I see that's not the case. After all, all characters start with their memories and perception tampered with and are ignorant of both what happened and whatever's wrong with where they are.

I think I may have miscommunicated the amount of bonus level upgrades. Do Horrify and Acid Cloud not take focus?

Regarding the weaknesses, it might be better to go with a list format that includes practical weaknesses. 'Painfully honest' and 'independent' could just as easily go under the Personality section. Being weak at melee range is definitely a proper Weakness, but it also mentions that she's a skilled dodger, which is something that could be a Strength.

Edit: Sorry about the earlier amounts, being in the process of switching between the old and new sheet systems led to me confusing myself. I think the 3 free strengths, the free power at level one, and the four extra upgrades from levels 2-5 should be 8 overall, so you're just one over with 9.

World of Light

<Snipped quote by Lugubrious>

Yes, that works perfectly well for me!

@BlueFireVulpix

Awesome, in that case I'll look forward to your application. In fact, there's something of a special deal going on right now. We're planning a relaunch of the RP sometime this summer probably, and in order to not leave anyone behind, fresh applications can start at level 5 instead of level 1, allowing you to spend your five points between Powers and Strengths as you please. I hope this'll help you ease into things.

World of Light

Everdream Valley - Port Meridian

Level 8 Goldlewis (49/80) Level 6 Sandalphon (64/60)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double
Word Count: 1908

As Bravo led Goldlewis out of the Pelican Inn and toward a spot he claimed would be perfect for a fight, the veteran mulled over the situation with a stern expression whilst lugging his coffin. Unlike Bravo, who made no bones about his excitement for the upcoming clash, Goldlewis dreaded the imminent exchange of blows. After the exhausting events of that morning, another scrap was the last thing he wanted, but it wasn’t just that. In Galeem’s world, there was no such thing as casual sparring. Once a battle began, it could only ever end with a beatdown. It didn’t seem possible to him that Bravo, himself apparently a martial artist, could be ignorant of this fact. Very suspicious, Goldlewis couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of ploy after all. Perhaps it was foolish for him to worry so, but no matter how much strength he attained, Goldlewis didn’t plan to become complacent nor overconfident. Pride comes before the fall.

The destination Bravo had in mind wasn’t far off, but the short trip did give Goldlewis a chance to look at the dark, angry sky. The sheer speed at which the weather turned from dour to dangerous surprised him. If a severe storm broke before the Virgin Victory could get airborne with everyone aboard, the team’s welcome reprieve in Everdream Valley could turn into an extended stay, and with a Guardian freshly slain Goldlewis didn’t want to wait around for the Seekers’ enemies to find them. “Can’t afford to drag this out,” he muttered beneath his breath.

After another minute, the two men reached their destination. “We’re here!” Bravo announced, casting his arms wide to showcase the scenery. They’d traveled just beyond the edge of the city and stopped at one of the many nearby pastures, this one growing nothing but grass and dandelions for flocks of sheep to munch on. As battlegrounds went it lacked ceremony, but there was plenty of space, and Goldlewis had no objections. He watched as Bravo pulled a boombox out of his inventory that he set down atop a boulder, then turned to his prospective opponent. “Ready to begin, my friend?”

Goldlewis let his coffin fall to the ground with a slam, which slid open so that the UMA could hand him his new shotgauntlets. He slipped them on, cracked his neck, and tapped his stopwatch. “Let’s make this quick.”

With a grin, Bravo started the music.

The blare of a horn rang out, signaling the beginning of both an energetic beat and the fight. Goldlewis stood his ground as Bravo charged toward him. He crouch-blocked as the chef unleashed a handful of hefty chops, culminating in a downward slam. Goldlewis stood to block high in anticipation of an overhead, but the move turned out be a low as Bravo struck the ground and a fully-loaded dining table sprung from the earth as a launcher. After popping his foe into the air, Bravo jumped up into the air and grabbed him, instantly wrapping the veteran in a giant dumpling that he then slammed to the ground in a titanic body slam.

Confused at what just happened but unshaken, Goldlewis rose with an unamused grunt. He lashed out with piston punches, finishing with a haymaker that Bravo backdashed. Instinctively Goldlewis went on defense as soon as he recovered, but his opponent read his reluctance and laid hands on him once more. Goldlewis found himself tossed up, then caught in a gigantic wok. His foe proceeded to toss him like fried rice, holding both man and pan with the strength of just one arm. “One! Two!” After a couple flips, Bravo whirled the wok around to slam Goldlewis down. “Bellissimo!” Bruised and disoriented by the Sublimating Frying Pan, Goldlewis rolled backward to his feet. He’d been right not to get too cocky, he realized; this chef wasn’t just a fighter, but a grappler!

Bravo gave him no time to rest. He sprinted the veteran’s way, his arms outstretched to either side. This time Goldlewis went to him, catching his opponent with a quick one-two punch, though he couldn’t convert off it. Was he trying to grab me again!? “Don’t push your luck!” Though not able to convert off the interrupt, he seized the momentum with a forward dash, only to through Bravo off with a slow stomp into sweep to send his opponent to the ground. With no coffin at the moment, he tried to follow up with a low hook, but Bravo recovered fast enough to get away. He performed that recognizable overhead slam again, and without questioning it Goldlewis blocked low. Sure enough, another dining table burst up beneath him, exploding into pieces against his guard. Bravo jumped toward him, and Goldlewis -expecting some kind of bombastic body splash that would hit him overhead- rose to anti-air. Instead he received a disjointed splash of hot noodle soup, pulled out of thin air and dished out on Bravo’s way down. The counterhit led to a short combo that ended in another grab, Passionate Thunderous Soup, in which the chef threw Goldlewis into a boiling soup pot, then watched with a nodding head until it exploded.

“Ugh!” Goldlewis hit the ground to find Bravo bearing down on him yet again. This time he made a statement with a reversal overdrive, grabbing his coffin skyward and thrusting it skyward. “Down the…system!”The heft blow threw Bravo back, and the veteran charged his way. He swung his coffin again and again in a whirlwind behemoth typhoon, landing a couple hits before Bravo learned to block, and even then he still managed to break his guard with every hit.

“Not bad!” Bravo complimented, his teeth gritted in a grin. “But can you break through this!?” He rose in a titanic lariat, spinning with a silver platter on each hand. The move armored through his foe’s offense and knocked Goldlewis back on counterhit, forcing him to block another Invite Dining Table.

Without delay, Bravo jumped toward him again, but this time the veteran’s anti-air was on point. His 6P carved through the hurled soup to slap the chef out of the sky. After tumbling, Bravo woke up with a reversal of his own, but Goldlewis blasted straight through his Welcome Spin with his unstoppable Wild Assault. “Go to hell!”

On his next wakeup Bravo respected his foe’s offense, blocking every hit of the Machinegun Blast. After Goldlewis delivered his right-hand shotgun punch, Bravo lashed out from the smoke with a chain of sausage links wielded like nunchaku. The surprise attack struck Goldlewis repeatedly, and after knocking him away Bravo used Invite Dining Table to pop him up into the air for another Flying Wrapped Dumpling. Like a maniac, he then went for a meaty command grab, which Goldlewis managed to jab him out of. He converted into a three-hit Mad Dozer, then ended with a Behemoth Typhoon, and when Bravo woke up with buttons Goldlewis shut him down with a meaty two-frame throw. “How’s! This! Taste!” he growled, delivering a hefty headbutt with each word.

By this point, both fighters were feeling it, especially the one who started with a noticeable handicap. Panting, Goldlewis tried to catch his breath while blocking Bravo’s next assault, but the chef managed to mix him up, and this time Bravo whipped out a super of his own. He snatched Goldlewis out of the air, slammed him down, then whacked him with a triple revolving golf swing using a swordfish and a giant roast chicken. His coffin hit the ground, too far away for Goldlewis to reach before Bravo reached him first. Goldlewis clenched his jaw. With no other option, he’d have to place his faith in the power gained from Jack-8. Fueled by determination, he got his second wind.

For Goldlewis

New Strength:
Gamma Howl
Grants access to Jack-8’s Gamma Howl power stance, which can be transitioned to from certain techniques, as well as the techniques specific to Gamma Howl, many of which have useful properties. Gamma Howl can soak a hit, and it becomes Gamma Charge if it does, strengthening the next move used from that stance

The veteran activated Heat, knocking Bravo back with Tyulpan Blast. Once powered up, he got in Bravo’s face to provoke a response, then caught him with a fast Jackhammer that allowed him to perform a sideways flex–his new Gamma Howl stance. The pose confused Bravo, convincing him not to challenge, and Goldlewis gave him a taste of his own medicine with Iron Gunman. He seized his foe, threw him up into the air, then hammered him with upward shotgun punches. On the final hit, he canceled into his Heat Smash, decking Bravo with a solid swing before his new Mothman railcannon descended for a grand explosion.

This time, Bravo did not rise, and as he lay on the grass in a daze the concerned sheep crowded around him. Relieved that the fight had concluded, Goldlewis doubled over, gasping for air. It was a moment before he could stop his watch. “Just seventy-three seconds,” he wheezed, shaking his head in Bravo’s direction. “Well. Hope you got what you wanted there, hoss.” he straightened up with a deep breath. “Guess I oughta give ya one o’ them li’l hearts. Maybe we can sort things out over drinks.”

Before he could take action, however, a sigil manifested by his ear. Someone was calling him.

“Hello, everyone. I have urgent news.” By now Goldlewis was used to Sandalphon’s disembodied voice in his ear, but what she said turned him dead serious in an instant. “Return to the port ASAP. I just received word from Geralt that a consul has arrived in Port Meridian and plans to attack the Virgin Victory. According to the crew, this is the same consul that hounded them all the way from the Land of Adventure. Given our current situation, Commander Nelson has ordered immediate evacuation. You have two minutes.”

The archangel’s voice disappeared as suddenly as it came, and Goldlewis sighed. “Guess we’ll need a rain check on those drinks.” After shouldering his coffin, he took off at a run back the way he came, using every last ounce of energy at his disposal to reach the Virgin Victory on time.

---

With a loud, morbidly definitive clonk, the extra-large glass hit the countertop, empty except for half-melted ice. Other than that sound and the crash of thunder outside, Dreamjolt Hostelry had been quiet for a few minutes. The music had stopped playing, and both man and monster took their leave, fleeing the coming storm. Only one person aside from the Consul remained, staring evenly at her last remaining customer from the other side of the bar. Siobhan pursed her lips as the Consul’s stool creaked, his weight shifting off it. “Care for a refill?” she asked almost jokingly, knowing it was a long shot.

The luminous gaze of Consul Z rested on her calm face for a moment. Though mostly just concerned with her looks, he couldn’t deny that it took guts to make an offer like that, given everything she’d overheard. “...Perhaps some other time,” he told her, his voice firm but not hostile as he placed some gold coins on the bar. Then he left, his massive frame swaggering toward the doorway to disappear into the storm.

After he left, Siobhan’s worried expression remained for a good while. “Good luck out there, Geralt,” she whispered fretfully. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

The Under - Nyakuza Metro

Level 13 Ms Fortune (112/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Osvald’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 1745

When Sectonia heeded Nadia’s suggestion and headed off in the direction of the Le Félin jewelry shop, she waited a few moments with tails swishing, then began to surreptitiously follow the big bug through the Metro. As always, Sectonia carried herself with pomp, authority, and determination, her sheer size and gaudy appearance turning heads wherever she went. In comparison Nadia, with her dark coat and feline features, barely stood out and could be mistaken at a glance for the tallest kind of common metro cat. This distinction was not just important, but pivotal to the feral’s newest scheme: returning to her roots with a bonanza of burglary.

Naturally, she’d already picked her target. Nadia hadn’t forgotten Rush Hour, after all. That jar-headed Consul might have called the shots, but it was the Empress who called in the shots and pulled the strings around here. That grandiose title was the word on the lips of every other metro cat down here, whispered fearfully even by those who seemed to be in her employ. It smacked of the Medici Mafia in a way Nadia didn’t like one bit. Even if the whole Rush Hour debacle didn’t make this purr-sonal, the matriarch of the local nyakuza probably deserved to be taken down a peg. This wasn’t just for her sake, either; if the Seekers planned to make use of the Metro more often to maneuver around the continent, a massive surplus on pons for train passes would save a lot of time. With this in mind, Nadia tailed Sectonia to the sparkling boutique with Chucho on her heels, ready for a heist that’d put her previous pilferage to shame.

After entering Le Félin with a surgical mask on, Nadia acted casual, feigning an interest in the bejeweled accessories while she scoped the place out. Its publically accessible interior, regal in appearance, was small, spotless and well-lit, with high ceilings and low display cases. It offered practically no space to hide, and clear sightlines for the four security cameras, one in each corner well out of even her extendable reach. She could find only one door, positioned right next to the register where the Empress herself stood watch, with only one assistant cat in attendance. Right now Sectonia commanded the attention of the Empress, but she still managed to keep a close eye on Nadia. The would-be burglar supposed that she ought to count her lucky stars that the imperial feline didn’t recognize her from Rush Hour, but then again, Nadia had definitely changed since then. Inside, though, she was still the same cunning schemer, and after a few moments the feral hatched a devious plan.

First, she selected an article she knew she could afford, a necklace with golden fangs. “Ooh, Jesse would LOVE this,” she announced, before falling crestfallen at the sight of the price tag. “Oh man. I’m gonna have to make a withdrawal.” She put her hands on the glass case and leaned down as if talking to the necklace itself. “Okay gorgeous, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back!” Then she turned tail and jogged off, leaving the smudged glass for the assistant cat to clean up.

Once out of sight, though, she did not head for the nearest ATM. Instead she roamed around Le Félin, searching for something very important. As things currently stood, the boutique had no weak points, even with Sectonia running interference. With a security setup like that, not even a mouse could slip through to wherever Le Félin kept its goodies, and there were probably cameras there, too. In the whole place, Nadia could only imagine one spot not under surveillance twenty-four seven: the security office itself.

Cameras themselves weren’t the real problem, after all. That would be the staff on guard duty in the security office, monitoring the footage for anything fishy and ready to sound the alarm at the drop of a hat. If she could compromise that office, the store’s greatest security asset would become its downfall–and security guards needed to breathe like everyone else.

“Aha!” After a few minutes searching, Nadia found it: a vent. A cat burglar’s best friend. This vent happened to be much too small for even a metro cat to fit through, let alone a grown woman, but Nadia Fortune was no ordinary thief. Using a neighboring building, she jumped and climbed until she reached the third-story vent. Then, ignoring the deadly fan, she hardened her claws and ripped open a hole in the box’s metal side. Once it was big enough, she let her head fall off and shoved it inside. Using blood for propulsion when rolling didn’t do the trick, the head took off down the ventilation duct, and her body fell to the ground outside.

Focusing on just her head, Nadia navigated the claustrophobic metal labyrinth, peering each through the ventilation grate she found. She passed up the one for the boutique’s showroom, but the second opening really caught her eye. Down below lay a nondescript room, gray and rectangular, piled high with cash. It was a dragon’s hoard of zenny, pons, and bundles of dollar bills. Forget a jewelry store’s stockpile–this had to be a nyakuza vault. No wonder the Empress herself was here! Her eyes sparkled with greed, but with a sigh she tore herself away. Right now, her destination was the third grate: the one overlooking a small, dark office bathed in the blue light of a half-dozen monitors.

She pressed up against the grate and looked through. A short, stubby-limbed metro cat with a head as big as his body sat in an office chair in front of a desk piled high with screens, observing the storefront and the vault from every angle. He looked very bored, but wide awake, and for the next part of her plan Nadia needed to deal with him. Her options were limited in Forma de Cabeza, but she’d been saving dramatic tension for a rainy day, and now was the time to cash out.

The next moment, a Purrge of Vengeance went off in the duct, blowing the lid off in an explosion of water. The noise scared the living daylights out of the metro cat, and the next moment the grate beaned him in the head, knocking him to the floor. As he lay in a daze, soaked and half-conscious, Nadia’s head rocketed down to the desk. “Sorry, little dude,” she winced. “If your boss was looking out for ya, this woulda never happened, you know. Just goes to show, you should never let down your guard.” With step one finished, step two was a go.

Nadia watched the security footage in a state of total concentration as her body sauntered back into the shop with her hands tucked into her pockets. On her shoulders sat a copied head of condensed hydro energy, which got looks from the Empress and her assistant. Was it weird? Definitely. But what could they do? From her tail dangled a cheap plastic bag full of zenny, freshly converted from the Under’s geo. She laid it on the display case, then tapped the glass with her tail, indicating the necklace she saw earlier.

Full of suspicion, the Empress walked over and rifled through the bag’s contents herself. Despite the bizarre form it came in, the money was all there, and with great displeasure she reached into the case to present her customer with her purchase. “...Pleasure doing business with you,” she practically snarled as Nadia’s body left. “But let’s not make it a habit.”

She nodded at her assistant, and he gingerly picked up the bag of money. He carried it with him to the door, pushed through it, and headed over to the nearest pile of zenny to dump the cash out. Unbeknownst to him, Nadia’s actual hands let go of the underside of the bag. They fell to the ground and, directed by Nadia herself via the security footage, scuttled into cover–carrying her special wallet with them.

Once the cat left, it was go time. Working her hands remotely, Nadia opened the wallet and began shoveling money inside. Thousands of zenny and hundreds of pons disappeared into the magical space inside, which could store unlimited cash. It was a laborious process, and she couldn’t be too greedy when an employee could catch her red-handed at any time. As the assistant concluded another purchase a few minutes later, Nadia quickly wrapped up, maneuvering her hands toward the door. When the cat entered to make another deposit, unable to tell what had been taken, the feral’s extremities slipped through and into the store, skirting along the underside of the display cases to find an accessible spot where they could wait, out of sight.

Nadia let out a sigh of relief. “Payout purr-loined.” Step two, done. Now for step three: extraction. That involved using her copycat trick, but in reverse. Carefully she expended just enough blood from her neck to make just enough of a body that she could get her head back inside the vent, at which point she retraced her ‘steps’ back out of the building. Dropping to the ground hurt a bit, but once down her head could be collected and put back where it belonged. Fully formed again at last, she hurried back into Le Félin, drawing an irate look from the Empress. “Sorry, sorry!” she apologized, bending down by one of the display cabinets. “Dropped my wallet!” In one motion she inserted her hands into her empty sleeves, then used them to hold up her wallet. “That’s why I had to use the bag, haha…” Trying to look as sorry as she could, Nadia fled, her contrition turning to absolute glee the second she set foot outside. “Nyahahahaha!” she giggled, heading toward the Yellow Line station. “You ran a tight shop, but I’m not empressed! Cash me if you can!”

With 492 pons and a whopping 13447 zenny to her name, Nadia could easily afford a Yellow Line pass, as well as one for anyone who failed to get the prerequisite pons, like Osvald. The mean-spirited grouch would have to eat his words when Nadia paid his way, all out of the kindness of her heart (and a profound sense of smugness). Once the Seekers reunited, passes in hand, everyone could climb aboard the next train for the last leg of their locomotive journey. Next stop: Gerudo Town.

---

With the afternoon now in full swing, the desert sun beat down upon the Sandswept Sky with its full power as the Seekers stepped out from the darkness of the underground train station into the blinding light. The sand sizzled and the air itself swam from the ambient temperature, more than strong enough to conjure mirages for those driven by dehydration to heatstroke. The town that lay before the newcomers, however, was very real. Encircled by tall sandstone bastions and guarded by towering amazons with fiery red hair, prominent noses, and fine blades of shining steel, this walled city was well-defended. Though they’d only been here at night, Primrose and Sectonia knew just how remarkable the civilization beyond those fortifications could be, but they also knew Gerudo Town’s defining rule: that no male could venture inside.

Naturally, with Bowser, Kamek, Junior, Therion, Osvald, and Ganondorf around, that unshakeable edict posed something of a problem for the team’s overall unity. Not wanting to leave them out, Nadia didn’t mind skipping Gerudo Town entirely, and pushing onward toward a fun-filled fiesta in Carnival Town. Still, she was every bit as curious as the others to find out if Ganondorf, self-proclaimed Gerudo King, could tip the scales.

World of Light

Hi there!

I've been watching/hearing tales of this RPG from Multi, a friend of mine from another RPG, and was curious if you were open to any new members? It sounds like an interesting game and I would be honored to join this one! I've been missing doing some good roleplays again, and playing as a game character would be fun.

@BlueFireVulpix

Hey there, I'm so glad our friend Multi has put in a good word, and that we've managed to get your interest. We're always open to new players, and if you're down for one post a week, we'd be very happy to have you!

World of Light

Everdream Valley - Port Meridian

Level 7 Goldlewis (116/70) Level 6 Sandalphon (59/60)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double
Word Count: 1269

In the end, only the taciturn Roland had decided to accompany Goldlewis on his hunt for a slow-paced meal. Although Goldlewis definitely wouldn’t have minded more company for lunch, he found himself appreciating the chance to be more or less alone with his thoughts after so much time spent among his fellow Seekers. With no conversation necessary, nor any need to uphold a certain image of himself, he could afford to relax. Through the window, the cloudy sky seemed to be darkening, and he could hear a faint rumble of thunder in the distance. Considering the time of day, the Pelican Inn probably should have bustled with activity, but for one reason or another an atmosphere of leisurely quiet hung over it today, allowing Goldlewis to recline and contemplate in peace. Though the responsible part of him felt obligated to scrutinize and overthink for the sake of preparedness, and the old war veteran in him urged him not to get too comfortable while danger still loomed, Goldlewis tried to push aside his restless inclinations. However brief this repose might be, and whatever trials lay ahead, he knew that this moment of peace and quiet ought to be enjoyed while it lasted. Of course, his enjoyment of this break increased by quite a lot when the waitress began to arrive with the food.

First Goldlewis received his Dumud Chowder, featuring dense fish rather than clams, lavishly covered with a thick, creamy soup. Its mild flavors, enhanced with Worcestershire sauce and garlic, were a splendid marriage of earth and sea, and it filled the veteran with vigor. In no time at all he downed the whole bowl, leaving him regretful that he’d finished so quickly.

Luckily, his second dish arrived soon after. After whetting his appetite with the tasty seafood stew, Goldlewis dug into the Rushoar Hot Dog with aplomb. It boasted a thick sausage, much more substantial than the typical frankfurter, wedged between fluffy buns and garnished with both relish and mustard. To his surprise, he found the crispy meat itself not just spicy, but a little gamey, laden with the ferocity of the wilderness. As Goldlewis battled and vanquished the big game hot dog, he achieved a feeling of primal satisfaction.

Finally, the Eikthyrdeer Loco Moco arrived, a gravy-smothered burger of ground venison on a bed of rice, itself topped fried egg and green onion garnish, served in a shallow tin. While both of the other foods he tried turned out to be great in their own rights, Goldlewis realized after one bite that this dish was truly something special. The sublime combination struck him as the true epitome of comfort food, rich and decadent. Paired with an ice-cold cola to offset the savory warmth with refreshing sweetness, the dish brought him nothing short of joy. He finished his meal very pleased, his expectations thoroughly exceeded.

Roland, meanwhile, received both dishes at the same time. The herb-roasted Caprity and Lamball were more than superficially similar, as both included sweet wild berries that provided an aromatic, built-in compliment to the flavor of the meat. A discerning palate, however, could differentiate between and individually appreciate the intricacies of chevron and mutton.

When the waitress arrived to check on the two, Goldlewis made his appreciation known. “My compliments to the chef,” he said, smiling as warmly as he could. “A meal like that really hit the spot. Does a body good.”

“I’m glad you like it!” The waitress returned his smile as she handed him his check.

Thirty two hundred and twenty zenny, he read, thinking nothing of it as he reached for his wallet. Once he pulled it out, however, Goldlewis got a sinking feeling. “Uh oh.” He had just twenty thousand on him, and no way to connect to his bank account. Though now that he thought about it, he’d spent most of his savings in order to acquire the Seiran hideout from Moneybags the bear. And what a good, long-term investment that turned out to be. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. With all his focus on the conflict in Midgar and the campaign against Galeem, he’d forgotten to pay attention to his finances. He looked up, seeing no staff around but the waitress tending a table. A lesser man might have opted to dine and dash in this situation, trusting in his strength to sort out any trouble, but Goldlewis couldn’t do such a thing. With a sigh he beckoned the waitress over, then explained his predicament.

The woman kept her expression neutral. “I’ll have to speak to the boss. Excuse me.” She disappeared into the kitchen, and Goldlewis sat there, stewing. After another minute, the waitress returned. “Please come with me.” The veteran looked miserable, but he rose to follow her. Twelve dollars wasn’t much in the greater scheme of things, but theft was theft. It fell to him to take responsibility and sort this out.

After being directed into the kitchen, Goldlewis stepped inside. It turned out to be much lower-tech than he imagined, with somewhat rustic electric stoves lit not by gas, but by crew of bright orange Foxparks. Live animals in a professional kitchen came as quite the shock, not to mention a possible health and safety violation, but the boss surprised Goldlewis almost as much. Both the boss and the head chef, the man was a musclebound giant with a wild hairstyle and a mustache that climbed higher than his eyebrows. He seemed larger than life, standing eye to eye with Goldlewis himself, and when he spoke, he did so with a naturally booming voice. “I am Bravo Peperoncine, owner of Pelican Inn!” he announced, turning to face the newcomer. “And you are?”

“Goldlewis Dickinson,” the veteran replied evenly.

Bravo crossed his arms. “So you’re the one, eh? Sounds like you came up a little short, my friend!”

Goldlewis rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. “Yeah…stupid of me. Just had a lot on my mind lately, is all. If there’s any way I could pay off what I owe ya, I’m all ears.”

“Hmm!” Bravo stroked his whiskers, grinning. As he talked, he enhanced his speech with frequent bombastic gestures. “Well, as you can see my cooks are all Foxparks, and Foxparks don’t need money. In other words, I’m not in the habit of paying kitchen staff. How are you at waiting tables?”

Goldlewis narrowed his eyes, not pleased at the way this was going. The knowledge that he’d genuinely screwed up made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to get this taken care of as soon as possible, not be made a fool of. “I don’t reckon I’d get much in tips.”

The chef chuckled. “You may be right. Well, perhaps there’s another way.” He peered more closely at his customer. “You seem like a sturdy fellow. Someone who knows his way around a fight. There are precious few such men around Everdream Valley, and I cannot allow my Undefeated Kitchen Champion Style to lose its edge. Perhaps you can help me hone my skills once more. Spar with me!” He pounded his fists together. “You’ve satisfied your hunger, after all. Satisfy mine, and we’ll call it even!”

Goldlewis breathed in, then cracked his neck, first on one side and then the other. “If that’s all it’d take…I suppose I got some calories to work off, anyhow.”

The Under - Home of Tears

Level 13 Ms Fortune (109/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Osvald’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 1936

After a minute or two spent hurtling at high speed through the pitch-black interior of a warp pipe, mostly straight down, the exit finally spit Nadia out–straight into ice-cold water. The shock left her reeling for a moment, but after tumbling for a moment she managed to get her bearings, reorient herself, and swim away from the warp pipe so that nobody else crashed into her on their way out. That was just basic pool etiquette after all, however strange the pool.

Mercifully, the water seemed to be reasonably clean and clear, allowing her to look around. In addition to bright-red cheep cheeps, it featured metal support struts and underwater spotlights that illuminated a submerged section of race track, tilted at an angle that allows its curve to both enter and exit the water. Right now though, Nadia only cared about the ‘exit’ part. She kicked her legs and surged toward the surface, not afraid to spend a little blood if it meant getting out of the drink that much faster. After another moment she burst from the water with a gasp, filling her lungs with air.

The feral clambered out into dark, moist grass, to find herself surrounded by the multicolored glow of bioluminescent mushrooms. Beyond lay the Home of Tears, beautiful in its melancholy. Though brief, her immersion left her with a nagging feeling of familiarity, and now she could see why; this place was none other than the fungal garden surrounding the base of a certain clock tower, and when Nadia looked up she found Gallo Tower looming over her in all its enormity, its ruby-red clock face still broken from the fight against Moebius P the morning before last. She recalled her somewhat ill-advised shortcut back to the bottom, plunging from that immense height down into this very basin. Remembering all this, she couldn’t help but laugh. The events of that day sure seemed bananas at the time, but after Pizza Tower, Mercy Dreams, and the dream battle against the Radiance, her battle against the bedridden bozo was small potatoes. Who could fathom how much nuttier this adventure would get tomorrow?

Sadly, her reminiscence came to an end in a fit of shivering. The unfortunate reality was that in the Home of Tears, being on land wasn’t much drier than being underwater. If anything, the cool cave air on her sopping-wet skin made the chill even worse, despite the lack of wind. As always, the water from Ash Lake high above descended upon the somber city in a terrific deluge, and when Nadia reached back to pull her hood up she got a nasty surprise. “Aw, what? This coat doesn’t have a hood anymore?” Her ears drooped as she stared out through the downpour, totally drenched. Chucho could warm her heart, but not her body, so the two hurried off in search of shelter. “Ugh. At least with P gone, we have free rain of the place.”

Beyond the fungi-filled courtyard lay the Royal Quarter, the city’s well-to-do northern district. The moment Nadia set foot outside, sinking her mantreads ankle-deep in a puddle in the process, she spotted a familiar feline felon hunkered underneath a huge umbrella with Osvald. “Nyaow we’re talking.” She took off at a run, her boots splashing across the carapace cobbles as she made a beeline for the shelter of Therion’s parasol. “Room for one more?” Without waiting for permission, she inserted herself into the pair’s personal space. “Sheesh!” With a sigh of relief she tried -unsuccessfully- to slick her hair back, then settled for wiping the rain from her eyes. While she did notice that Osvald had been freed, right now she had a backlog of rain puns in dire need of delivery. By now, Therion knew to brace himself when he saw Nadia’s eyes alight with mischief. “Bad weather for us cats, huh? I don't mind a little purrecipitation, but I forgot just how hard it rains down here. It’s just nyansense. After we’re outta here, someone’s gotta hang meowt to dry.”

Given both the weather and the one hundred percent chance of additional puns, the Seekers didn’t intend to stick around. Once everyone was present and accounted for, the team could set off through the Home of Tears with Nadia in the lead. After unrolling the map from Cornifer, the feral confirmed that King’s Station lay to the northwest, across a long expanse of ink-black water. With the team at her back, she scampered through rainy streets bathed in the soft pink light of fancy streetlamps atop wrought-iron fences. When everyone reached one of the district’s western docks, Nadia leaped right off the edge and onto the water itself, her rigging deployed to keep her skating weightlessly atop the rippling surface. Chucho joined her, happily floating in the air beside his owner. Rika and Bowser could emulate her, and several others could just fly, but for those less fortunate a solution lay close at hand.

“Over there!” she called, directing her friends’ attention down the waterway. A giant paper boat the size of a catamaran was piloting itself toward the dock, letters trickling from its ink-stained pages that rose into the sky like smoke to hang amidst the downpour overhead. The others would need to time a jump to get aboard, but it wasn’t at all difficult, and even if they missed this boat was just one of five or six on this waterway, ceaselessly making its rounds in a counter-clockwise loop up from Fountain Central toward King’s Station and back.

Soon, the team reached King’s Station. The place looked every bit as dark and abandoned as Nadia remembered it, clearly seldom-used by the Home of Tears inhabitants. She led her friends through a dark passage past faded signs and broken furniture to the station itself, a room of green and tan tiles where a falling water spun a large waterwheel, then flowed off down a channel through an opening in the right-side wall, where an aqueduct suspended over a pitch-black abyss led off into the darkness. Out of everyone here, only Nadia knew that the aqueduct somehow looped back around, feeding right back into the waterfall that turned the wheel. Jesse had left them after all, and both Rubick and Artorias were dead. It was a sobering thought, almost as dreadful as the otherworldly creature that lurked at the end of the shadowy tunnel to Platform B. “There’s one of those things down there,” she warned the others. “Something like Robin, but...different. It called itself the Nowhere Monarch. Pretty freaky.” If the others really wanted she could help deal with it later, but right now she concerned herself with Magikrab. The little crustacean happily opened the way to Platform B when prompted, where a stag waited to spirit the Seeker away through the Stagmer-line back to Dirtmouth.

Once back up top, the urge to go out and breathe deep of the Chasm’s crisp mountain air tempted her, but Nadia remained with the others as they switched trains to connect to the Nyakuza Metro. Riding a giant stag beetle had its charms, sure, but Nadia much preferred kicking back in a subway train pulled by a giant orange cat. For a good long moment, she stared at the do-not-pet sign hanging from the kitty’s harness, her arms crossed. “Well, that sign can’t stop me because I can’t read,” she lied. She quickly patted the cat, then hurried after the others with a smile on her face. Once everyone boarded, its puller gave a loud meow, then began to move. As it pushed through the tunnel’s magical cat flap and into extradimensional space, Nadia settled in for the ride.

Of course, getting comfortable proved difficult whilst soaked to the bone. The trip so far hadn’t been conducive to conversation, but with nothing to do but sit and wait Nadia aired out her thoughts straight away. “Ugh, I’ve gotta get a new outfit,” she groaned, peeling off her sodden trench coat. The leotard beneath functioned as a one-piece swimsuit, not exactly appropriate for a train ride, but anything beat catching a cold in waterlogged clothes. The coat plopped down on the empty seat beside her, water pooling around it. “My jacket used to be sick as hell, but my fusions sure did a number on it, huh. Now it ain’t fashionable or functional.” She removed and upended her mantreads to get the water out, then busied herself detaching her limbs to air dry them via vigorous waving.

By the time the train pushed through another cat flap and entered the Metro, Nadia herself had dried off, but her coat was still soaked through. Grumbling, she retied her belt around her waist and left with her coat draped over her arm. The moment she deboarded, though, her spirits rose once more.

After all, the Nyakuza Metro was a bustling, neon-and-brick metropolis made by cats and for cats, a feline-themed paradise. The yellow-eyed, black-furred metro cats seemed to be going about their business as usual, and though the place possessed a transitory atmosphere, Nadia Fortune felt right at home.. She darted past a public scratching post and slid to a stop beneath a set of heat lamps arranged like an old-fashioned hair salon. She slid a pon into a slot, plopped down in the seat, and basked in its warmth. Tantalizing smells drifted from the Metro’s ubiquitous food trucks, and curiosities lay almost everywhere one looked. As she sat, Nadia found herself engaged by a digital standee playing a public safety announcement. It captivated passers-by with a red dot that darted back and forth across text that read Stay alert! The Metro can be a dangerous place!

The realization made her smile ruefully. Though things looked pretty harmless at the moment, she and the others knew just how dangerous this place could be after Rush Hour. Once that Consul put a hit on them, it had been a mad scramble to escape the Metro before the Seekers drowned in the literal tide of money-crazed cats. When Nadia turned her gaze upward, however, she found nobody silhouetted against the giant clock face that overlooked the crowded streets. Only the Metro, which stretched up hundreds and hundreds of feet, its higher levels dominated by cat tower apartments. The eternal night that shrouded this indoor city suggested a roof of some kind high above, but Nadia sure couldn’t see it.

She turned her attention to a Metro schedule board instead, rising from her chair for a closer look. “Gerudo…Gerudo…bingo! Looks like it’s on the Yellow Line,” she observed. When she inspected the route details, her eyebrows shot up. “Hey, Carnival Town’s on that line! That’s where I crashed for a while. We should go there too, it’s super fun!” She turned toward the others. “I guess we gotta grab enough pons for a Yellow Line Pass, huh? No problem.” Just like last time, the green gems could be found just about everywhere in the Metro, though most demanded some agility. Well, a little parkour never hurt anyone. Full of pep, Nadia started doing stretches, readying herself for another quick romp through Nyakuza Metro.

Vandelay Campus - Research and Development

“Hey, Tora…he-eey…hey!”

When Mayer’s voice finally got through to him, Tora jolted as if forcefully woken from deep slumber. He might have fallen from his stool if the Anaty engineer hadn’t already put her arm behind him, anticipating that she’d startle the poor guy despite her best attempts. Tora shook his head, rubbing his eyes, then peered at her blearily. “Meh, meh. What want?”

The young woman wore a rueful smile, her amusement only masking the concern on her face. “I want you to stop overworking yourself so much, for one. It won’t do any good for anyone if you collapse from exhaustion, you know.” Mayer sighed. “Buuut you’re not gonna listen, are you? Not until Poppi is back.”

“That right.”

Mayer looked down at the table in front of Tora, her eyebrows furrowed. Ever since his arrival in the experimental division of Vandelay Campus, the nopon had adamantly refused to attend to anything beyond his most basic needs, and to his credit his single-minded obsession had borne fruit. With Zando’s demise the company’s project pipeline ground to a complete halt, freeing up his new friends Mayer and Macaron to give Tora’s own endeavor everything they had. In just short one day the abundant resources, tools, and technologies of Research and Development had allowed him to concept, fabricate, and assemble an entirely new chassis for his beloved companion. The impressive results lay on the workstation before them, like a patient on an operating table, but this could hardly be called a finished project. In some ways the machine could be considered an improvement, being professionally crafted in a full-scale facility rather than cobbled together in a hobbyist workshop. It boasted the finest hardware available as well; without the ether tech of his homeland, Tora had given up on replicating his grandfather Soosoo’s Ether Furnace in favor of a reciprocating Vandelay reactor, enabling digistruction and a high level of throughput.

Of course, the makeshift team couldn’t come up with a Vandelay analog for every aspect of the original. The thing that lay before Tora was still just lifeless metal. Everything that went into creating it only foreshadowed the true challenge: rewriting Poppi’s source code from scratch. It was a monumental task, an impossible one, and it brought Tora great anguish. Even after hours of trying, he’d made almost no progress. After all, even if he really could recreate every aspect of her personality down to the most minute detail, would the robot that came online really be Poppi? Or would it just be a copy? An imitation? Tora was no philosopher, but he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Poppi possessed something that couldn’t be recaptured by mere code.

Mayer didn’t want to think about it. Though she treasured her Meeboos like pets, they didn’t even capture the significance of the animals that inspired them, let alone a human. The fact that this fuzzy round nopon managed to make a simulacrum so much like a human in the first place boggled her mind. Now that he’d lost her, how could he ever recreate that? In her own experience, losing something as simple as a blueprint and having to recreate it was enough to fill her with despair. But convincing Tora to abandon his obsession seemed almost as impossible. Still, she felt obliged to try.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” She gestured toward the door. “Only a few hours ‘til Midgar goes dark. I know the geothermal power down here’s enough to the lights on however long you need ‘em, but the tech’s not the point. Me and Macaron, we got into this to help people, and the people are going. Wherever they end up, that’s where we need to be.” Mayer gave him a warm smile. “I mean, you’re clearly some kinda genius. You could really help people.”

If anything, Tora seemed ashamed. “...That okay, meh. Tora can’t help anyone if Tora not even help self. Please go ahead, meh. Tora stay until Poppi is back.”

Mayer took a deep breath and hugged the nopon, squeezing him goodbye. Though happy to be a ray of sunshine wherever she went, there were some clouds so dark that even she couldn’t break through. Pushing any harder in this situation would just be in bad taste. “Good luck, Tora,” she told him, gathering her things to leave. Her Meeboos crowded around her, beeping as they jostled and played. Her small stature really belied just how much stuff she could carry all across her person. “I hope you find her again soon.”

Then Mayer was gone. Tora pulled his AR goggles down, and got back to work. The virtual environment employed by the PGR-0101 units in R & D enabled ultra high speed development, but even with such incredible tools at his wingtips Tora’s progress continued to be agonizingly slow. He mostly just sat and stewed, staring at the chassis in front of him, painfully aware of just what it was missing, as well as just how unattainable that was. Tora didn’t even realize he nodded off until he crashed face-first into the workstation. His stool slid out from beneath him with a loud scrape, and the next moment the nopon tumbled to the floor. When he pulled the goggles from his head, tears soaked into the fur of his cheeks.

“Meh, meh, meh,” Tora moaned, struggling to get up. “Mayer? Macaron? …Mr. Svarog? Anyone!?” But no, they were all long gone, friends both new and old. Around him the walls of the engineering workshop enclosed him like a prison, full of nothing but junk. He gave up and lay there on the floor, surrounded by his failure, completely and utterly alone.

In the near-total silence, quiet except for his sniffles, Tora heard something new. Click, click, click, click. Sharp, light footsteps, echoing down the hall and through the open door. He rolled into a sitting position. “M-Mayer?”

But no, that couldn’t be it. His Anaty acquaintance wore sneakers, not heels. But who could this be?

A black shape blotted out the hallway lights. Then it swept into the room, tall but not quite shapeless, and Tora realized that it must be someone clothed and hooded in black. He suddenly recognized the telltale uniform and blinked in surprise, his sorrow turned to alarm. “Meh, meh!?”

“Relax, furball,” the black-coated woman told him, a slight edge to her voice. She seemed to recognize this, and tried to sound more gentle, difficult though it was. “Today, I’m just a delivery gal. Here, someone wanted you to have this.” She pulled a small package from her robe and tossed it toward him. “Happy birthday.”

The package bonked off Tora’s head and fell into his wings. He took it in his wings, his expression quizzical. “It not Tora’s birthday. Tora not think so, at least…”

“Who said it was your birthday?”

The Organization XIII member waved her hand at the parcel, and Tora began to unwrap it. As he pulled off the strings and peeled back the layers, he became aware of a glow from within, faintly shining with all the colors of the rainbow. Finally, with wings trembling, he tore apart the last layer of paper. Inside glimmered a mote of dazzling light, a precious face within.

Tora’s whole body shuddered. His voice quaked. “P….p…Poppi. She’s…she’s…”

“She’s there.” Tora glanced at Xatow when she spoke, equal parts crushed and confused. “You’ve studied the machines, haven't you? The androids, the unmanned gears. The black boxes, you’ve seen them, right? And you’ve gotta know that spirits are data by now, yeah?” She sighed, exasperated. “C’mon, put it together, smarty-pants. That sad little face of yours is starting to piss me off.”

After a moment, Tora gasped. He seized the spirit and hurtled through the workshop, sending various components flying in his mad hunt. Xatow watched the ruckus with her arms crossed, not even trying to be heard over the clamor. When Tora finally found what he was looking for, he practically fell over himself in his haste to get back to the operating table. His stool still lay on the floor, but Xatow reached out her hands and gave him a boost.

Once up on the table, Tora ripped his programming rig from the chassis, then tried to calm down, control his breathing, and slow his pounding heart. Carefully, with utmost precision, he opened the black box. The spirit of a Cyberlife android leaked out like an egg. Once the box was empty he inserted the spirit, sealed it shut, then inserted it onto the chest cavity of the robot chassis before him. After activating the Vandelay reactor, he closed off the machine’s interior, then stepped back, waiting with clenched cheeks as the painstakingly-assembled systems came online. The second trickled by as indicator lights all across the robotic frame began to glow, until finally, the eyes popped open. Their irises were orange, just as designed, but the light that shone through them was electric blue.

Tora stared, not daring to move, nor even to breathe. The fact that a machine produced by three genius engineers managed to turn on was no surprise. Everything hinged on that light, the light behind the eyes as they slid in Tora’s direction.

“...Greetings, Masterpon.”

In an instant, Tora’s heart sank. He could never forget the first words that Poppi ever uttered to him–well, except for that one incident, which certainly wasn’t his fault. Those weren’t words he wanted to hear. Had this eleventh hour miracle only achieved a new beginning, swept clean of everything he’d come to treasure…?

After another moment, Poppi couldn’t contain it anymore. She burst out laughing, her voice high and bright, tinged by an electronic filter but filled with sincere joy. Tora watched, dumbstruck, as she sat up, her smiling face turned toward him.

“Sorry, sorry! The look on your face…! I know, I know, I shouldn’t have scared you like that. But I can’t help it. You know I can’t help teasing you, right?” Poppi reached out and seized the stunned nopon, then hugged him tight. “Ahh…this feels good. You know, I had the strangest dream. It was really scary, I’m so glad it’s over with.” As her diagnostic subroutine concluded, she laughed quietly. “Wow, all new hardware? You’ve been busy, huh. But…weird, I’m not talking like a nopon, am I? My dialector must be broken…”

After overcoming his shock, Tora hugged her too, his tears flowing freely. “Meheheh, it fine, it fine! Not problem at all, meh meh. Tora just happy…so, so happy that Poppi is ba-ha-haaaack!” His voice finally broke, giving way to joyous blubbering.

“Sheesh. All that bawling,” Xatow shook her head despairingly. “You’re going to get your tummy wet.”

Tora and Poppi both turned toward her. The jubilant nopon seemed to see straight through her brusque demeanor. “Without spirit from friend, Tora never have fixed Poppi! Thank you, meh! Thank you thousand times!”

The Organization XIII member shrugged. “Yeah, yeah. Well, we need you guys. They need you, too. So how about we quit moping around here and get a move on?”

Still holding Tora, Poppi gently leveraged herself off the table, trying not to knock too much stuff down onto the floor. Her completed chassis resembled her QT mode superficially, but with predominantly sleek white machine parts on both arms and legs, with both red and yellow accents. Her stylings included a spiky lavender topknot ponytail rather than twintails, and her previous maid elements had been replaced by a more modern headset, ribbon tie, and pleated skirt. Of course, at the end of the day appearances mattered little to either of them. Being together again was enough. “Are we going somewhere?” Poppi inquired.

“I’ve arranged pickup,” Xatow told her, already headed for the door. “So come on. Don’t wanna be late.”

Without further ado she left, leaving the dynamic duo behind. Reunited at last, and happy as could be, Tora and Poppi ran after her, ready to face the future together.

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

Lewa

As chaotic as the insect ambush started out, the situation ended up being pretty manageable. The centipedes, soft-shelled and not exactly difficult to hit, seemed to be relatively easy pickings if one could get past the initial fear factor. Lewa confronted each bug in turn, sometimes several at once, unceremoniously hacked them apart, and left the ropy halves to wriggle their last. With everyone's efforts combined the centipede assault didn't last long. Their wanton slaughter left the whole area stained with splashes of murky blue arthropod viscera, and without the might of a swarm to back them the handful of leftovers that survived could achieve very little. It looked like it wouldn't take much more for the otherworlders to exterminate the scuttling threat completely.

Perturbed by the whole affair, Lewa used the lull in the storm to wipe the bug gunk from the protodermis edge from his air axe. He wasn't worried about dulling his blade necessarily, or the possibility of rust, but something bothered him all the same. Even taking into account the instinctive fear response from some of the humans, the centipedes' unprovoked aggression, and dogged refusal to flee for their lives, struck him as oddly self-destructive. The rahi he knew didn't just mindlessly throw their lives away without any real chance of reward; if anything, these creatures reminded him of the bohrok, who fought, destroyed, and died for the sake of destruction alone. Maybe that was just the nature of swarms? For a beast that only existed as part of an army, perhaps the army itself superseded all else.

In his uneasiness, Lewa kept his guard up despite the relatively minor threat. He paid close attention to the strange noises that filtered through the trees, wondering just what sort of animal would be attracted rather than repelled by the sounds of conflict. He noticed one member of the team, Remilia, who hadn't put up as much of a fight, wandering off. "Wait, there could be-!"

His warning came too late to prevent her horrific discovery. A moment later, the monstrosity that the vampire unveiled charged toward the group through the foliage. The creak of its heavy exoskeleton and the clack of its mouthparts told Lewa everything he needed to know about its comparative side before he even laid eyes on it. "Incoming!" he called, whipping around in order to sprint toward the disturbance. As he ran, he whirled his axe around preemptively, stirring up a stiff wind. When the full-grown centipede finally burst from the underbrush, Lewa knew he'd made the right decision. Now this was the kind of rahi he was used to fighting. "Wind, fly!" With a swing his axe his cyclone blasted forward, tearing up grass and leaves as it whirled toward his foe. Even if the beast didn't receive the tornado's full might, it would hopefully keep the beast away from his allies, not to mention give them a clear shot by shredding the surrounding foliage. His preemptive strike bore fruit; the next moment, Mokou swooped down to strike the monster head-on, its venomous mandibles knocked away by the fierce winds. One beat later, a fiery explosion went off, exacerbated by the remnants of Lewa's tornado. Despite the substantial new danger, this looked like a promising start.

World of Light

Everdream Valley - Port Meridian

Level 7 Goldlewis (113/70) Level 6 Sandalphon (55/60)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double
Word Count:

With the meeting on the upper deck of the Virgin Victory over with, Goldlewis could finally turn his thoughts away from the bigger picture and toward taking a well-earned break. His team’s chance encounter with James Shirogane left them reeling from the devastating news about Alcamoth, then inundated with information as everyone tried to fill in the gaps of their collective knowledge. Between establishing communications, investigating the sunken city, and reuniting the scattered Seekers, there would be a long road ahead of them just to reach the starting line for the next leg of this continent-spanning race. Goldlewis agreed with Sandalphon, however. No matter how much needed to be done, they could not achieve their goals while tired, hungry, and dispirited. Everyone needed some time to heal, and that time started now.

Moving at a leisurely pace, Goldlewis disembarked. The Virgin Victory was no ordinary vessel, and docking at a conventional wharf must have been quite the feat, but somehow the enormous warship floated had been moored close enough that those aboard could vault over the railing and land on the dock below–all without blocking the harbor. The wooden planks groaned in protest as the veteran’s weight crashed down on them, but they held, and after a sigh of relief Goldlewis pushed forward. The briny waters of the narrow bay lapped at the creaking, barnacle-crusted logs as he made his way toward solid ground. Though he felt Midgar looming at his back, its decrepit mass like a giant, dying beast somewhere behind him, the veteran did not look over his shoulder. Al Mamoon had been a much-needed change of scenery, but in the end it had just been more machinations and politics. After everything he’d been through, Goldlewis was glad to leave it all behind. He belonged on the front lines, fighting for what he believed in, not managing the masses from behind a desk. On to greener pastures, both figuratively and literally. With hope in his heart, the big man set foot in Port Meridian.

From here, Goldlewis could only catch glimpses of the rolling hills of farms and ranches beyond the buildings. The fresh air here was already doing him a world of good, and he longed for a peaceful stroll among the verdure. How long had it been since he breathed deep of petrichor, the rich smell of rain-soaked earth? Or stroked a horse, its hair fine and smooth beneath his palm? Or heard the contented lowing of cattle? He could feel a reservoir of childhood memories deep within, trickles leaking through the dam, threatening to burst through. Right now, though, he really wanted to sit down. He’d been on his feet all morning, and for someone his size, that tended to get old after a while. “I gotta park myself somewhere,” he said aloud, turning to the others. “Anyone want a bite to eat?”

Sandalphon had followed him from the warship, alighting much more softly upon the docks with the aid of Heavensent. Though Goldlewis tended to catch bystanders attention thanks to his sheer size, the rustic charm of his accessories offset that somewhat, but the archangel stuck out like a sore thumb just like the Virgin Victory. If her spotless white attire and strange eyes didn’t get the townsfolk whispering, her elaborate triple halo certainly did. Having never set foot beyond Midgar, though, she appreciated her new surroundings almost as much as Goldlewis did. “Please go ahead,” she told him, looking around the port. “Provided there is one, I would rather peruse the local market. I would be interested in purchasing fresh honey.”

Hearing that, and having learned about one of Sandalphon’s quirks over breakfast, Goldlewis couldn’t help but picture the archangel drinking the golden nectar straight from the jar. The thought made him smile. “That sounds mighty fine.” He looked around at the rest. “Feel free to wander ‘round folks, but keep your eyes peeled. If any o’ y’all run into trouble, call it in, and be ready to hustle back here. Understood?”

The Seekers separated, eager to make the most of their brief stay in Everdream Valley. Though the market promised fresh produce, Goldlewis wanted nothing more than to give his aching feet a rest, so he made a beeline for the nearest restaurants. He passed by a couple establishments, including the bustling Master Tavern, which was rife with wharf workers and deckhands fresh on the scene for their lunch breaks. On the way, he witnessed his own reflection in the glass facade of a storefront, and paused for a moment. Having settled into the routine of middle age, Goldlewis had changed very little over the span of many years, yet now the man staring back at him looked altogether strange. Already he knew that the spirit of Jack-8 had given him a substantial power boost, but it had also exaggerated the appearance of an already-remarkable individual. In a way he regretted changing, but now that he’d opened the floodgates, he could always course-correct. The spirit of Hank still burned in his pocket, waiting to be used. Figuring that the grizzled soldier’s normalcy would help offset his odd proportions, Goldlewis stepped into an alley and made his executive decision.

For Goldlewis

Spirit consumed:
Henry “Hank” Allen
The host is a bit shorter, now standing at 6’8”. His proportions are more normalized, though he’s still definitely large. His suit’s color and pattern have changed to blue-green camo, and his shirt is now black, matching his heavy combat boots and armor pads. There are now double lights on each shoulder pad, which can be toggled on and off, and black pouches on his belt. His beard is longer, and his hair now has more of a gradient from dirty blonde near the roots to white at the tips. His glasses are now more like goggles, solid black with special optics that can be flipped down over the lenses, which have five vertical red lines of varying length, roughly shaped like lips. The host’s personality is a bit less humorous and more critical. This spirit confers the Power Shield Charger, allowing his coffin to charge up a shield pulse that applies a permanent shield to an ally within 60 meters. This has a 17 second recharge, but the shield it makes is strong, protecting 50% for an ally with average health, 25% for one with high health, and 75% for one with low health. This spirit also confers the weakness Last Stand, causing the host to enter a Downed state when at <10% health. When Downed, he can barely move, his health slowly drains, and all his weapons disappear, replaced by a pitiful Holloe Pistol. This state ends and his weapons return when his health rises above 10%.

New Free Power:
Shield Burst
By slamming down his coffin, Goldlewis can apply a shield to all allies close to him, on a 26 second cooldown. This shield is relatively weak, protecting just 15% for an ally with average health, 7.5% for one with high health, and 30% for one with low health

When the fusion concluded, Goldlewis re-examined himself. Though his outfit had lost some of its rugged simplicity, he noted with satisfaction that he looked more like a regular person, without compromising his intimidating stature nor strength. The flip-up glasses tickled his funny bone, but they by no means ruined the ensemble. With that out of the way, he resumed his trek down the road, quickly settling on a promising destination: the Pelican Inn.

Once inside, Goldlewis found himself in a beautiful little place that radiated vintage pub charm, from its heavy curved bar and elaborate taps to the portraits, trophies, and other knicknacks all over the walls. Though he did a double take at the union jack flags hanging around, he comforted himself with the knowledge that England probably didn’t exist in this world, and seated himself at a cozy corner table where he could keep his eyes on the door. Once the waitress came by to drop off a menu, he requested a soda and got busy reading.

Pelican Inn - Menu

Appetizers:

• Bread
• Marinated Mushrooms
• Grilled Skewers (Chikipi or Lamball)

Soups and Salads:

• Mushroom Soup
• Dumud Chowder
• Lettuce and Tomato Salad

Entrees:

• Roast (Rushoar, Eikthyrdeer, or Reindrix)
• Herb Roast (Lamball or Caprity)
• Broncherry Rib Roast
• Rushoar Hot Dog
• Stew (Galeclaw, Eikthyrdeer or Reindrix)
• Eikthyrdeer Loco Moco
• Grilled Galeclaw
• Mozzarina Burger (Ham or Cheese)
• Mammorest Steak

Seafood:

• Broiled Dumud
• Kelpsea (Fried or Grilled)

Desert:

• Jam-filled Bun
• Cake
• Pancakes
• Woolipop Cotton Candy

The veteran’s confusion grew as he read over the menu. “Rushoar? Eik-thyr-deer!?” He shook his head. “No idea what these animals are.” He could only assume them to be analogs for pork, chicken, beef, and so forth. Since he could see other restaurant patrons enjoying their meals, however, and the pictures on the menu looked appetizing enough, Goldlewis decided to go with the flow for once. He put in an order for a Rushoar Hot Dog and Eikthyrdeer Loco Moco, with a side of Dumud Chowder. After that, he sank back in his chair, trying his best to relax.

---

After Goldlewis left, Sandalphon lingered by the docks for a moment longer. Though she by no means lied when she said that she wanted to visit the market in search of honey, something more important now concerned her. When the Seekers began to disperse to make whatever they could of the lush valley’s port town, she sought out a certain detective. As expected, she found Zenkichi and his daughter Akane joined at the hip. Thanks to Midna’s efforts, the two had been reunited, but to assume that all was well would be foolish. Since joining the team, Zenkichi had been separated from his daughter almost constantly, risking his life against some of the biggest threats the twisted city of Midgar had to offer. Sandalphon could hardly imagine what that looked like from poor Akane’s perspective, waiting alone (or in the care of total strangers) for hours and hours in anticipation of grim tidings, or the briefest of windows in which she could see her dad before he went off to risk his life once more. It hardly took a mind like Sandalphon’s to deduce that Akane’s mother was gone–a fact that made the poor girl’s situation even more crushing.

The archangel paused for a moment, observing them. To anyone else, her unblinking, dead-eyed stare, delivered from a remarkable height, would be off-putting if not downright intimidating, but she truly didn’t mean it that way. Right now, she was just trying to think of what to say. Her almost computational talent for perception and multitasking enabled her to coordinate combatants with effortless grace, tactically leveraging all available assets into a lethally efficient whole, but understanding the human heart challenged her mental faculties like nothing else. She remembered her conversation with Zenkichi from last night, about his experience with the ghost of Zone 09 and her victims, and their place within the bigger picture. He never said anything about his own child, but the way he spoke about the children spoke to great distress in his own heart.

So, while Sandalphon didn’t really know how to, she wanted to help.

For the second time that morning, she knelt down so that she could look a youth in the eyes. “Do not be afraid,” she said to Akane, her voice soft. “My name is Sandalphon. Though I have not known your father for long, I hope I can call him a friend. If possible, I would like to do the same for you.” She then stood back up to her full height, not quite as tall as her original form, but still tall enough to look down on Zenkichi. “Given recent events, everyone deserves to be at peace. But not everyone has a young child. With both of your permissions, I would like to keep you both company for a time, get to know you better, and help you both feel more at ease, if I can.”

The Under - Temple of the Black Egg

Level 13 Ms Fortune (101/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Osvald’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 2235

When Bowser yelled up to the Troop’s concerned teammates that they were okay, Nadia stepped away from their caved-in hole, laughing helplessly as she rolled her eyes. After what they’d all just been through a little tumble couldn’t have been the end of the Koopa clan, but it relieved her to know that they landed safely, and it sounded like they’d stumbled into somewhere new, as well. “They really sturtled me,” she punned. “Can’t go two minutes without falling face-first into another adventure, I guess.” At this point, their nonstop hijinx really shouldn’t come as a surprise, but their knack for getting into trouble really was impressive. “Well, whatever. Everyone shellebrates in their own way, eh? Guess we’ll wait for ‘em. I sure don’t mind resting on my laurels a bit longer.”

Of course, the Temple of the Black Egg wasn’t the nicest spot to hang around in. Even without all the new decor, this here would have been solemn, spartan, and inhospitable, the air heavy with the weight of Hallownest’s history. The infection had done a real number on this place, and while the bright orange mood lighting wasn’t that bad, those renovations came packaged with disgusting tumors, stomach-churning smells, and sounds that could make the feral’s skin crawl. At least the death of the Radiance had kickstarted a clean sweep, quickly killing off the contagion and everything its mad light had possessed. After just a few minutes, the air was losing its funky foulness, which made Nadia feel a whole lot better.

As the air cleared, allowing the Seekers to catch a much-needed breather without choking on the stench of slime molds, the triumphant heroes exchanged a few words. Sectonia monopolized the conversation for a while, reviewing what little intelligence the team gleaned from F and adding her own insights, a healthy mix of verbatim repetition and far-flung speculation. Nadia didn’t dare interrupt her, instead producing the Free Lemonade from its dedicated pouch pocket. With the pitcher magically replenished, she slaked her thirst with gulp after gulp of the sugary-sweet, sensationally sour fruit juice, then gave a satisfied sigh as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Though she tried to pay attention, Therion’s whispers made her snicker. “As long as she doesn’t make a full of herself.” She offered her fellow thief the other half of the lemonade. “Here. Half full, to go along with your earful.”

In the end, F hadn’t given them anything definitive, other than which members of the alphabet soup of villains the Seekers needed to watch out for the most. If they ruled over this world alongside Galeem, Nadia figured they’d chew through them all sooner or later, but it was something. Right after that, though, the heroes got much more poignant information: the news that Jesse would be making herself scarce. “Aw, really?” Nadia moped, crestfallen to the point that her ears drooped down. While she hadn’t bonded with Jesse as much as, say, Primrose, the redhead had been a fixture of the group, resourceful, insightful, and dependable. Nadia liked having her around, to the point that the feral missed her throughout her absence yesterday, and she was sorry to see her go for good. “Well, I could only rush forward knowing you had my back,” Nadia replied once addressed. “Stay safe out there. When we head up north, I hope we can count on you to show up ‘Jess’ in time!” She perked up in order to send Jesse on her way with a smile. “See ya!”

With all that out of the way, they could focus on what to do next, and a vacation sounded heavenly. Primrose even floated a suggestion, hot springs in a place called Gerudo Town, which would’ve sounded amazing even without Nadia’s newfound inclination for water. Hopefully she’d get to share her downtime with Ace again. That locale seemed to evoke a strong response from Ganondorf, however, and the big bruiser immediately laid claim to the area. Nadia half-listened to his explanation of Gerudo customs, her focus mostly on Chucho. The canine apparition, bless his heart, seemed to be a complete coward who faded away at the first sign of trouble, but with the action concluded he’d reappeared to beg Nadia for attention. Naturally, the feral obliged. Nothing soothed the soul like petting a pup after all, corporeal or otherwise. He lay on his back with, and as she scratched and rubbed his belly, she could feel her stress draining away. She only looked up when Ganondorf urged Primrose to hurry and guide him to Gerudo Town. “What’s the rush?” she asked, her tone relaxed. “Gotta wait for the Koopas anyway. We’ll get there when we get there. Maybe you could wait to seize power ‘til we’re done with the hot springs, in fact.”

Before Bowser and company returned, however, someone else showed his face: Osvald. “Oh, it’s you!” Nadia said, her brows shooting up in surprise. Given what happened to the others who’d been separated from the Seekers, she had feared that a similar fate had befallen Osvald. Though her first instinct was to rattle off something like ‘look who the cat dragged in’ or ‘you missed all the action’, neither felt appropriate for expressing how his unexpected survival made her feel. “...Glad you made it!”

She reported the team’s victory over the Radiance, happily sharing the good news that the heroes’ subterranean stint would be over very soon. Of course, their departure depended on the return of the Koopa Troop, and as the minutes passed by she began to wonder just what was taking them. Before too long, though, everyone’s linkpearls rang with the sound of Kamek’s voice. Nadia grinned. “Yeah, I hear you! What’s up?”

While the Troop failed to hunt down F, the news that they found Cornifer was a real pick-me-up. With all the rush yesterday, Nadia hadn’t gotten another chance to track him down, and she was glad to hear that the kindly cartographer escaped the infection as well. Kamek finished by telling the others to go ahead, and that the Troop would catch up. Nadia jumped to her feet. “Sounds good to me! Say goodbye to the Under everyone, let’s below this joint!” She took off running, only to slide to a stop after a few steps as her head swiveled a hundred and eighty degrees. “What, which way are we going?”

The team quickly put together a plan. Assuming that an ascent back through the Chasm would be a prohibitively arduous task, the best way back would be the Stagmer-line, and the nearest station they knew of lay in the Home of Tears. “We gotta go through that awful basement again?” Nadia groaned. “Not to mention that freaky flesh-scape! The less I think about that blood river, the better!” Luckily, Kamek had suggested an alternative: Ash Lake. Without Rubick, the Hive courageous Knight, or the Troop, only Primrose knew the way both to and through it, so the Seekers set off with the dancer in the lead.

Primrose guided the others down through the Crossroads, past the spot where Nadia met Cornifer originally, away from the wooden passages that led to the Basement, and through a series of tunnels. A fork in the road took them away from the Ancestral Mound and into a large dripstone cave, its floor dotted by pools of noxious, sludgy muck and choked by foul weeds. Bus-sized Goams erupted suddenly and without warning from the earth, their spiky burr-coated shells nigh impenetrable, On the far side of the huge cavern, part of the rock face gave way to a protruding wall of wood that stretched from floor to ceiling, with several hollow roots twisting out from it to rest like primordial serpents in beds of grimy stone. Even without a strong presence from the infection, conditions here seemed worse than the last time Seekers came through. Grotesque cragspiders dragged themselves between the protruding nodules of rock, their vestigial mosquito wings abuzz as their loathsome eyes searched for prey they could roast alive with heretical flame. Even worse were the bulbous wall huggers whose engorged, protuberant masses hung just out of sight, with gossamer tendrils drifting down to snare unlucky prey. The mire horrified Nadia, grievously offending the part of her that detested stagnant, unclean waters, and once Primrose directed the team toward the enormous tree trunk she hustled over as fast as her legs could carry her.

From there, everyone could proceed through the hidden doorways and carefully descend through the twisted boughs of the great hollow, dappled by inexplicable white light shining down through the thorny briars above. The route downward was treacherous, composed entirely of winding and in some cases very thin branches. To make matters worse, a handful of mushroom people and reptilian basilisks lurked around the tree’s innards. Even for those possessed of flight, it was slow and tricky going to reach the exit at the very bottom. Nadia made ample use of the walls, sinking her claws into the aged wood as she climbed with catlike dexterity. As demanding as this trip was turning out to be, she knew that rest and relaxation lay at the journey’s end, and pushed onward. Eventually, the Seekers reached what looked like the bottom of the tree and dropped down onto a bed of moist, sandy soil. With no sign of the enormous fanged crab that rested here when last Primrose came, the team could follow the blue-green light through a large gap in the trunk, and trudge out into the biggest, most breathtaking space that the Under had to offer.

Click for music

Before them spread a vast and mystical space, maybe too expansive to even call a cavern, especially since it lacked any visible walls or ceiling. Instead it stretched away into the distance until the haze rendered all a murky bluish fog, and upward to a layer of pale green clouds. The trunks of countless other unfathomably tall trees just like the one they’d just emerged from, rising like the columns of some primeval cathedral up from tranquil dark waters through the cloud layer and into the roof beyond. That water formed an immense, glass-smooth lake, and the team stood upon a large ridged bank of sand that wound a serpentine path from this trunk toward another a half-mile or so away. Nadia marveled at the impossible vastness of its grandeur, so stark a contrast from the filthy, execrable Dripstone Cave. If the Home of Tears lay below this place, was this the source of its endless rain? No wonder the soaked-through city never went dry.

There were signs of life here, all of it just as strange and archaic as this place itself. Clams with teeth clung to the bark of the giant tree trunks beneath the surface, while in the shallows of the sand bank organisms known as ganoderma grew like underwater flowers. Googly-eyed shellfish both large and small called this place home, weathering the glares of ornery barnacles as they trawled for food alongside oblivious trilobites. All those creatures quailed at the sight of the hostile five-legged clams that stalked these forlorn shores, their enormous maws laden with the slimy skulls of their past victims. If all that inhabited the narrow sandbanks that seemed to form Ash Lake’s only land, however, one could scarcely imagine what lurked beneath the glassy, dark surface of the water. Deep down, frightful glimmers could occasionally be seen, making Nadia think twice about unnecessary water-skating. At the other end of this sank bank towered another archtree, and according to Primrose, a pipe in its vicinity would take everyone to the Home of Tears.

There was one other matter to attend to, though. Primrose had also mentioned an ‘old king’ who possessed knowledge that might help the Seekers on their journey. If he’d refused to share it until after the Guardian’s defeat, Nadia figured it must be worth their while. As the team trekked along the sand bank, they negotiated a temporary split. While the rest forged onward into the Home of Tears to attend to anything that might preclude a ride back to Dirtmouth, Primrose volunteered to meet with Asgore about whatever it was he’d kept from heroes who’d yet to prove their worth, and share whatever she learned. Nadia couldn’t suppress her curiosity. “I kinda want to hear whatever it is for myself,” she admitted, scratching her cheek. “You know what, you guys go ahead, I’ll stick with our dancer. We’ll meetcha at King’s Station afterward and share all the As-gory details.”