Lugubrious

World of Light

Skies of Dystopia

Level 8 Goldlewis (53/80) Level 7 Sandalphon (11/70)
Blazermate, Susie, and Roland’s @Archmage MC, Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Geralt and Zenkichi’s @Multi_Media_Man, Pit’s @Yankee, Roxas’ @Double
Word Count: 3589

After all of Z’s fanfare, the battle was on. From the outside, divorced from its context, this fight might look like a cinch. The Seekers, fresh from a victory against an alphabetically adjacent Consul and the Guardian he was supposed to protect, stood united against a single foe. Even the addition of a Zeustrike mob shouldn’t have moved the scales all that much. Unfortunately, Sandalphon could not bring herself to give her team the vote of confidence. With her allies worn out from their efforts this morning and only barely starting to recover thanks to the few hours they spent in Everdream Valley, this battle against Z was much too soon. Though finding the Virgin Victory seemed like a lucky break at first, running into the Consul who’d evidently been tailing it turned that rare blessing on its head, and failing to escape him put the airship -and all of its occupants- in a precarious position indeed. From the moment Z cast his first bolt, Sandalphon had realized his intentions. This wasn’t a question of whether or not the Seekers could beat him; it was a question of whether or not they could beat him before the Lord of Lightning knocked them out of the sky.

Such a thing was easier said than done. The heroes, spurred on by the self-evident risk of their current situation, came out swinging. Everyone who wanted a piece of Z quickly found out that they ignored the Zeustrikes at their peril. Their Energy Shots were near-instant beams of lightning, while their Thunder Blasts strike with electricity followed by wallops of air. Energy Waves, icy Blizzards, and buffeting Hurricanes, while more rare thanks to their greater MP demands, could hit multiple Seekers at once. If given half a chance, they could buff themselves with Raise Arms or Dodge as well, or sacrifice some HP to create a Lightning Wall that could soak three non-reactive hits apiece. Still, the Zeustrikes were ultimately the easier targets. Roland could build up his Emotion levels by fighting them, Geralt hunted them down, and Roxas diverted their attention while speeding around.

The real problem, of course, was Z, and despite Pit’s remarks, his ride alone gave him a tremendous advantage. Perched atop his airborne chariot, Z circled the Virgin Victory at a comfortable distance, interfering with the fight as he pleased. This distance plus the speed with which he moved through the stormy skies made hitting him almost impossible even with bullets, let alone slower projectiles, and with the atmospheric conditions plus the shaking of the Virgin Victory in play, preternatural levels of accuracy were required. Though Fortune managed to charge up her railgun in safety thanks to the cubes placed by Roxas, his strategy ended in disappointment when her shot failed to connect, missing Z by a good 10 feet. Zenkichi’s shots faced similar issues. Projectiles that homed like Pit’s light arrows and the Flygon’s cactus spikes fared a little better, but if they lacked the speed to keep up with the Consul they could get swept away in the storm. Sandalphon tried sniping the Consul several times with the Eye of Sol, but even with her inhuman powers of mental calculation she found it prohibitively hard to land her shots. Only by tuning out the fight against the Zeustrikes completely could she attain the necessary focus, but that meant abandoning her role as support.

Instead the archangel shifted between follow-up shots and healing miracles, patching her allies up when the shields provided by Goldlewis broke down. After all, Z didn’t just let the Seekers shoot at him. He seemed to take every attempt to hit him as a personal challenge, and happily answered in kind. Once Susie’s magicrystal got his attention, Z destroyed the missiles that the robot sent his way, even after the static discharges in the atmosphere detonated a few prematurely. He sent chain lightning bouncing among his enemies, using his Aegis shield to make up for any breaks in the chain, then dutifully detonated each one. While Blazermate, Zenkichi, and Sandalphon herself could cleanse the Charge and Jolted statuses he inflicted, Z could dish them out a lot faster, to the point where even if Blazermate forsook healing entirely she still couldn’t keep up. Besides, Charge only lasted a few seconds, and her teammates scarcely stopped attacking to wait for a cleanse. Compared to dealing with everything the Consul could dish out, fighting the Zeustrikes sounded pretty good, even if that alone wouldn’t land the heroes a win here. All the while, Z saved his heaviest bolts for the Virgin Victory itself, pounding the ship again and again with lightning to bring it closer and closer to destruction.

One big problem throughout was communication. Between the chaos of fighting in a live thunderstorm and the roaring wind, it was difficult to request help or follow-up attacks even for those inclined to do so, with or without Sandalphon’s group call. Almost none of the Seekers said much of anything, and even those that did mostly just remarked on the state of things.

The battle came to a head when Z, perturbed by the mounting losses among his Zeustrikes, kicked off some teamwork of his own. “IRON FILINGS!” he yelled down as he passed overhead. “THEN LET ‘EM HAVE IT!” At his command, the lightning beasts started using a certain status move. It applied the Conducted debuff to their targets for a whopping thirty seconds, causing every electric attack in the fight to deal an additional jolt of flat damage. Then the Zeustrikes began to spam their lowest-cost attacks, Spit and Energy Bolt, to push the amount of electric attacks in play through the roof. Within seconds everyone present was in a state of constant shock, quickly chewing through a fresh round of shields from Goldlewis and forcing Sandalphon to use both Angelic Praise and Angelic Wings.

Both realized right away that this couldn’t be allowed to continue. “This ain’t workin’!” Goldlewis howled, gritting his teeth. Figuring that Pit had the lowest health among his allies, he used his Shield Charger to grant the angel a tough barrier to keep him standing for a little longer. Not even he could take this passive electrocution forever, though. Midna had already fled with an injured Asbestos covering her retreat, and it wouldn’t be long before more of them couldn’t keep on fighting. “We gotta get outta this storm!”

Sandalphon nodded, her expression neutral but her pupils in the form of stress marks. “Commander, we’re suffering up here. Is there any way we can escape from this situation?”

Clearly, this was not the news that Commander Nelson had been hoping to hear. “Perhaps. The Virgin Victory cannot take much more of this. Our best bet may be to ascend through the cloud layer to clear skies. We can close the upper deck to shield you from the storm as we do.”

Without hesitation, Goldlewis agreed. “Do it, now!”

“Okay,” Alice MacGregor replied calmly. “Can you give us an opening? If he destroys the shielding, we’re through.”

Sandalphon narrowed her eyes. “Affirmative.”

As Z flew in for another electric bombing run, the archangel conjured a laser targeting device, then used it to indicate the deck ahead of him. At the same time, Goldlewis reached up a hand and activated his goggles, shooting a red laser pointer in the same spot. A moment later, his Burn It Down and her Headquarter Support Request activated simultaneously, bombarding the upper deck with a napalm cluster bomb and a heavy blue satellite laser that tracked the Consul’s path. Together the two forced Z to veer away from the Virgin Victory, damaging both him and his Zeustrikes in the process.

Without a moment to lose, the shielding slid up from both sides of the upper deck and slammed shut overhead, separating the Seekers from both Z and the storm. Then the Virgin Victory began to ascend, pushing up through the stormclouds. As the team finished off the Zeustrikes sealed inside, lightning bolts battered the ship from all sides, rocking the boat back and forth as the lights flickered. Stress levels went through the roof as the turbulence increased, threatening to rip the Virgin Victory apart any second. Finally, after a tense few seconds, the ship burst through the clouds. The shaking subsided, and when the shielding fell away the Seekers could see nothing but clear blue skies above a sea of clouds, a vista of staggering vastness and beauty. Goldlewis breathed a sigh of relief, but neither he nor Sandalphon could rest easy. “Look sharp, folks,” he advised the team. I got a feelin’ this ain’t over yet.”

“We’ve taken heavy damage,” Alice reported. “Our best bet is to get as far away as possible, land, and begin repairs immediately.”

The Commander groaned. “Agreed, full speed ahead. Charting a course for-”

A ball of lightning exploded up through the clouds, and after brushing away the snow-white fluff their pursuer made himself known. “DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU’D GET AWAY?” he thundered. “YOU’RE IN MY WORLD NOW. YOU’VE ONLY GIVEN YOURSELF FARTHER TO FALL!”

He pulled up on the ship’s port side, lifted his hand, and conjured his most massive thunderbolt yet, a spear of lightning as long as his chariot. Before throwing it, however, he paused, seemingly staring at the Virgin Victory. After a moment, Sandalphon followed his gaze to the ship’s starboard side, where she saw a disturbance among the clouds. They were being kicked up, like dust behind a sprinter, or water behind a boat. Something else, she realized, must be pushing up from underneath–something obscenely huge. As far as she could tell from her limited perspective, something was displacing the clouds as it rose upward, but she couldn’t tell what it was beyond some kind of big shimmer, an area slightly at odds with the background.

Then the unidentified flying object uncloaked.

It was a massive ship, much bigger than the Virgin Victory. Four huge tilted turbines kept it aloft as it lifted higher, capturing the smaller airship entirely with its shadow. Its armor looked heavy, forged from space-age alloys with cutting-edge technology. Unlike the Seekers’ vessel, this one seemed to be made for in-atmosphere flight. Goldlewis stared with his mouth agape, practically shaking in his boots. Was this another enemy? Things were bad enough as is.

When he glanced over at Z, however, the Consul seemed similarly stunned. After a moment, Z clenched his jaw beneath his helmet, his eyes narrowed in an irritated sneer. “HMPH. SO YOU’VE FINALLY DECIDED TO SHOW YOUR FACES. THE LOST NUMBERS…”

The Lost Numbers? Sandalphon turned her gaze back toward the new ship. Whatever this interloper was, it seemed to be no friend to the Consul. This time, she noticed figures emerging from an exterior door high atop the ship. A handful of figures made their way out onto the ship’s surface, braced against the wind. Her keen eyes spied a surly-looking twenty-something in a blue coat and a scruffy man in his forties in a red one, both with white hair and a greatsword slung across their backs. At their heels followed three smartly-dressed demon women with white hair and eyes as red as their collared shirts. Finally, a third man followed them, somewhere in his mid-thirties, with messy black-blond hair and beard, sunglasses, and a flashy suit. He carried a bottle of electric yellow wine in one hand, and some sort of power seemed to be flowing from him to boost the others.

“Looks like you got the party started without me!” Dante called breezily as the wind whipped at his hair. He grinned at the Seekers. “But don’t worry, ‘cause we’re here to bring down the house. Ready, Cerberus?”

The triplets jumped onto him “Ready!” they chorused.

“Right, let’s go!” Dante summoned his greatsword, which immediately slammed into his chest. His body exploded into flame, transforming into a huge, six-winged, four-horned demon of craggy brimstone skin atop a molten core, with Cerberus still clinging to him, unbothered. The sight of such a strong demon made Sandalphon cringe, but if she’d clocked this newcomer correctly, he might just be the team’s saving grace. With a beat of his wings Dante took flight, soaring from the new ship toward Z. Nero blasted off his own prosthetic arm, turning it into a missile he then jumped on to ride it like a surfboard through the sky.

Having already realized what was about to happen, the Consul let loose everything he had. He unleashed a bombardment of lightning javelins like the arrows of an entire army. Dante hurtled through the storm, soaking it all up, and closed the distance. Taking his namesake sword in both hands, he brought it down on Z’s Aegis shield in an impact that rang across the sky like the bell Jondo. It stunned them both, but as Dante reeled backward, Cerberus took action. “Woohoo!” The three springboarded off him, manifested elemental weapons as they ran down the backs of Z’s Ixion steeds to attack him directly. Striking in perfect sync, they got in a handful of hits before the Consul composed himself and blasted them back with a burst of electricity.

“Augh!” As they faltered, Dante reached out his hand, and the three fused into a pair of massive nunchucks, with one head apiece of fire, lightning, and ice. The devil grabbed the lightning head and twisted around, whacking Z’s head with the other two to set off a temperature shock. He staggered backward, almost falling from his chariot, then manifested and hurled a point-blank thunderbolt. It struck Dante in the chest, but as he fell back he tossed the nunchucks into the air. They turned back into Cerberus, and the triplets dropped into the Ixions, where they immediately started ripping throats. Their attack on his steeds incensed Z so much that he scarcely noticed Nero flying in over their heads.

“Eat this!” Nero performed a backflip, hurling his Punchline missile-arm straight into Z’s chest for a taste of his own medicine. Before he could fall, he shot out his wire snatch to grapple onto the left arm of Dante, who’d just resummoned his sword to finish off what Cerberus started. The three jumped onto him again, and with one mighty cleave apiece, he dispatched the Ixions, and in karmic reversal of fortune the Consul’s chariot began to fall.

Of course, Z just took flight himself, crackling with electricity as he floated in the sky. Even still, he sounded plenty mad. “Damn you!” he growled. The next second a sunlight thunderbolt slammed into Dante, its holy might dealing heavy damage. With a pained grunt, Dante whirled around, whipping Nero toward Z as his nephew dangled from his arm.

The line caught Z mid shield toss, and Nero’s momentum sent him spinning around the Consul, pinning his arms to his sides as he got wrapped up. When he ran out of slack, Nero grabbed hold of Z himself, then equipped an Overture arm that he promptly attached to Z’s helmet. “Get a grip!” With a smirk he kicked off. “See you next fall!” He used Air Hike to reach Dante, and after grabbing hold, he pulled out the Blue Rose. Hanging on beside him, Cerberus pulled out a trio of pistols of their own.

Dante’s demonic face seemed to smile. “Jackpot!”

His hangers-on pulled their triggers, blasting the Exploder that Nero had placed. The huge explosion knocked Z from the sky, sending him into freefall. The Consul glared upward as he fell, considering his options, then scoffed. “Hmph.” He twisted around to face downward as he disappeared into the clouds.

As much as he wanted to soak in the Seekers’ admiration, Dante had to hustle back toward the ship that brought him. “Gotta dip for now, so if you want an autograph, you better hustle!” Once he and the others reached their ride, it peeled away, headed toward the now-visible edge of the stormcloud expanse.

“...Well then,” Commander Nelson's voice reached the Seekers through Sandalphon’s group call. “I suppose we should follow them.”

---

Only once both ships settled down in the middle of nowhere, somewhere on the dusty, arid peninsula between Gutsford and the Satisfactory Industrial Zone, could Goldlewis, Sandalphon, and the others really begin to appreciate the sheer size of the massive ship that had come to their aid. It was like a floating fortress, beefier even than Rufus Shinra’s immense helicopter, and after seeing Dante there was no telling who might be inside. Curiosity came hand in hand with gratitude to the Seekers, after all. With the loss of Alcamoth, it seemed like the away teams were all alone in the world, and yet unexpected allies had come to their rescue. The faces of the heroes’ rescuers might be unknown to Goldlewis and Sandalphon, but at least one person on the team had met Dante and Nero before. At the same time, though, the inexplicable and rather drastic change in the legendary devil hunter’s appearance only begged further questions. Only one lay on everyone’s mind, however: just who were these Lost Numbers?

Eager to get their questions answered, the most curious team members left the Virgin Victory, trekked a short ways, and grouped up at the rear of the unknown vessel. After a brief delay, the huge bay doors swung down to settle in the dust, creating a ramp up into the belly of the best. A handful of people descended. Nero was there with a freshly-equipped Gerbera arm, exactly as Pit remembered him from their road trip together through the Paved Wilderness with Yuri and Banjo-Kazooie. Beside him strolled a very different Dante compared to the one Blazermate met in Redgraccoon City, still with those clingy dog girls hounding him.

There were also two complete strangers, including the down-and-out dandy Sandalphon spotted before, as well as a woman who bore obvious resemblance to him. Also in her mid-thirties, she was sturdily built, with a set of baggy black overalls over a white sports bra, and spiky black-blonde hair tied in a low ponytail. In sharp contrast to her counterpart’s bottle, the woman carried a huge black hammer on her back like it was nothing. Probably brother and sister, the two shared a distinctive eye color, a bright red-blue gradient. The more that Roxas, Pit, Susie, Blazermate, Geralt, Zenkichi, and Sandalphon looked, the more oddly familiar the siblings became. Neither bore any trace of Galeem’s influence.

That wasn’t all, though.

“Meh, meh, meh! Wait for Tora!”

A familiar furball bounced down the ramp after the others. With his stripy fur, big brown eyes, flapping wings and denim overalls (as well as him stating his own name) there could be no mistaking him. It was Tora, the gregarious Nopon engineer they left behind in Midgar the other day. When Geralt and Midna bid him farewell, there had been no trace of hope left in his lightless, crestfallen eyes. Yet now he seemed to be full of delightful energy, and it wasn’t hard to see why. Alongside him ran his other half, his indispensable companion, returned from the dead. She looked a little different, rather like a Vandelay robot mixed with YoRHa android thanks to her sleek robot parts and modern attire, but it was Poppi all the same.

“Friends!” Tora cried, already weeping tears of joy. “Meh, meh! Tora so, so happy to see everypon again!” He went around hugging everyone who’d let him, especially Roxas, Pit, and Blazermate. Poppi followed in his footsteps, shaking hands with gusto. Even Goldlewis got the chance to scoop both inventor and invention up in one big bear hug. He hadn’t gotten to know the two that well since Al Mamoon, but he did know two things: that neither deserved the bad hand dealt them, and that both deserved to be happy.

After greeting everyone, Tora stepped back and tried to compose himself. “Meh meh! Tora know everypon welcome her back already, but Tora want give Poppi proper introduction, meh!” Threatening to burst with happiness, he held his wings out toward his companion, and Poppi used her pleated skirt for a curtsy. “Now presenting Tora pride and joy: Poppi Quixotic Tutelar Perfect Artifice 2000, AKA Poppi QT-PA-2T!”

Poppi treated the Seekers of Light to her most joyful smile. “It Poppi’s pleasure to make -and remake- your acquaintance.”

With the dynamic duo having broken the ice, the woman put her gloved hands on her hips and gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you all made it,” she told the Seekers, her voice kind. “When that Consul engaged you, we feared for the worse.”

“Not all of us,” Dante grinned, nodding at the team. “I know you guys are the real deal. If only we'd had you on the homefront, eh?”

The woman shot him a look, then turned a gentler face back toward the Seekers. “So you know them already? Not me though, I’ll wager. I’m Dawn, and this is my baby brother Cirrus.” Her brother averted his gaze, his lips pursed in thinly-veiled annoyance. Smiling, Dawn gestured up at the ship. “This is the Avenger, and we -the Lost Numbers- are here to help.”

Sandswept Sky - Gerudo Town

Level 13 Ms Fortune (118/130)
The Koopa Troop’s @DracoLunaris, Primrose and Therion’s @Yankee, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Ganondorf’s @Double, Osvald’s @Dark Cloud
Word Count: 1065

When she heard where she and Primrose would be meeting Sectonia, Nadia caught herself and doubled back. “I’ll catch up with you!” she called as she took off back the way she just came. “I better grab a bathing suit. Don’t wanna ruin these duds!” She jogged back down the street, passing and earning a curious glance from the hammer-wielding craftswoman on the way, then slipped back into Yuria’s shop. The seamstress looked surprised to see her client back so soon, but welcomed her gladly, especially when Nadia revealed why she came. It didn’t take long for the two to find the swimsuit that the feral liked best, and after forking over another 1300 zenny, Nadia walked out with a ruffled mint-green two-piece stuffed in one of her pouches.

From there, Nadia hustled through the side street a third time, passing up a couple stores and hole-in-the-wall eateries only with great reluctance. A bar called the Noble Canteen, with a distinctive bottle statue inlaid with blue mosaic tiles, almost convinced her to stop, but she kept going. She rounded its corner and emerged into the wide-open Gerudo Town bazaar, where she took a moment to orient herself. Broadly speaking, this bustling marketplace occupied the desert settlement’s center, with Lady Riju’s grand palace plus the barracks of the city guard to the east, opposite the main entrance to the west, where those beefy sand seals were stabled. Evidently her destination lay to the palace’s north, in Gerudo Town’s northeastern quadrant. With no visible path around the palace itself she’d need to circle around a bit, but that’d hardly be a problem.

The real issue hit her when her eyes fell on the bazaar’s food carts, and she found herself unable to move on. It was well past lunchtime at this point, as her rumbling stomach reminded her; she’d been so focused on purr-loining from the Nyakuza in the Metro that she missed her chance to try out the countless food carts. The fact that the food here turned out to be incredibly aromatic. Tandoori roast chicken, gilded tajine, biryani, samosas…all fragrant with mouth-watering herbs and spices. As she watched a Gerudo shopkeeper expertly shaving meat from a vertical skewer to use as shawarma in a flatbread wrap, Nadia realized she was actually drooling. “Alright, alright already,” she muttered to her stomach, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Within moments the feral had purchased some pita pockets laden with crunchy vegetables and flavorful lamb, perfectly complemented by cucumber yogurt sauce. “Alright, pita pocket. You’ve done me a great disservice by tempting me so. Time to ‘meat’ out justice!” When she bit in, the combination left Nadia stunned, wondering how in the world someone so ordinary could be so good. With very little dignity, the feral wolfed down the rest. Then she headed north at a brisk jog to make up for lost time, smacking her lips all the while.

Her trip brought her out of the town’s more commercial, cultural center and into its residential zones. After a couple minutes she could go no farther, as the road stopped short in a T-junction at the edge of a massive pit. If Nadia expected to see sparkling pools of water down there, she was mistaken. Instead she beheld the glitter of gold, almost blindingly bright in the afternoon sun, and after a moment she realized that within the pit lay an elaborate Egyptian temple half-buried in dunes of what could only be gold dust. The sight left her in awe, not to mention confused. What could possibly convince people to destroy their riches like that? Some kind of tithe? “Jeez, what a waste. If someone ground up my gold, I’d start a rebullion.”

Shaking her head in dismay, Nadia turned and headed east. As she passed by various buildings, she scoped out each one, searching for Primrose or Sectonia as she tried to figure out which one was the bathhouse. None fit the bill though, and pretty soon the feral wound up at the end of the street in front of a huge, elaborate structure, easily the second-biggest building in Gerudo Town after the palace. When she studied it with brow raised, however, she came to a sudden realization. “‘Bath of Tefnut?’ Wait. This is it? No way!” Eager to be proven wrong, she raced inside.

Click for music

Once she made her way through the parlor, itself a rather elaborate affair of impressive stonework, the interior took her breath away. In front of her sprawled an immense natatorium of such lavishness and beauty that to call it a mere ‘swimming pool’ would be a gross understatement. It was nothing less than a work of art, a seamless and gorgeous integration of nature and tradition with ingenious design. From atrium-style glass panels in the vaulted ceiling high above, natural light streamed down on a fringe of tropical greenery that lined what must be a hidden perimeter aqueduct, for water streamed down in perfect curtains past the immense, stoic statues of towel-clad Egyptian gods and into a pool of spectacular enormity. Its waters seemed to glow from within, suggesting some sort of illumination below, but except for that and the glow from incense-filled braziers no artificial light could be found anywhere. Everywhere Nadia looked, she found more impressive decor, from the colorfully-inscribed pillars and obelisks to the luxurious cushions and recliners. And an ancient boat, just hanging above the waters, why not?

“Jeez. Whoever built this place must’ve really pooled their resources.”

After chuckling to herself. Nadia took a deep breath in and out. Despite all the guests throughout the Bath of Tefnut, everything was calm and peaceful. After half a day spent traipsing around the treacherous Chasm, the vast and varied Underground, and cities at the continent’s extremes, it seemed like she’d arrived at paradise. It was finally time to relax.

After finding the others, Nadia quickly got changed, then neatly piled her outfit, rigging pack, and other items at a chosen deck chair. Then the two-tailed feral slid into the pleasantly warm water, eliciting a happy sigh. “I’m home.”

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

Lewa

Once the makeshift team's mad scramble against the monstrous centipedes finally came to an end, Lewa and the others could retrace their steps to Aventon with a spring in their step. Of course, Remilia's injury made it difficult to take pride in their victory with neither worry nor caveat, but they'd still successfully weeded out the root cause of the disturbance in the region, as far as any of them could tell. With the invasive arthropods exterminated, the forest and all its creatures could settle back into their usual rhythms. Now once more without challenge as the majestic rulers of the woodlands, the earthmane boars could spend their days peaceably rooting around through the underbrush, growing big and strong, their presence a strong deterrent against future marauders.

Despite his contribution to the team's accomplishment, however, Lewa did not find peace. Although he really did sympathize with the poor villagers and their plight, this mission had ultimately been little more than an altruistic way to pass the time while he waited to be sent back home. As the hours turned into days, however, the toa grew restless, eventually becoming distraught. Only six heroic guardians stood between Mata Nui and its enemies, after all, and even if the Bohrok Swarms didn't endanger Matoran all across the island, Le-wahi itself depended on its protector. Without Lewa, Le-koro and all its inhabitants were in grave danger. Even if his brothers and sister toa volunteered to pick up the slack, that meant more risk to their own lands, and travel would become a massive time-sink. Such a situation could not be allowed to stand; he needed to return from whence he came at all costs.

During the days that his fellow otherworlders spent in Aventon, Lewa ranged further and further afield, as if the lands beyond might reveal a way back home. He barely showed up in the village, returning from his expeditions for just an hour or two at a time (usually to check in with Millie and her caretaker Anne) before venturing off in a new direction. When the others did happen to catch a glimpse of him, they found him neither amicable nor cheerful. Instead he seemed desperate, beside himself with worry and helpless, frustrated energy. His final journey lasted almost thirty hours, and when he returned at last, the toa of air looked defeated.

Given how little time Lewa spent back at Aventon, it was rather lucky that he happened to be around when the merchant caravan arrived. The disturbance piqued his interest initially, but when he realized that the newcomers came to trade and nothing more, his curiosity dwindled. Still, he put off his next solitary departure for now. By this point, it seemed like whatever divine power that possessed Millie had forsaken her completely. Maybe giving up on her and joining the caravan to seek his abductor elsewhere would be the better option.

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.