[center][h3]The Lady in White[/h3]
Location: Downtown
[@Lazo][/center]

Evaporated like mist by the sunlight, perhaps, no eerie specters patrolled outside the building where Pithy, Dew, and the basilisk hunkered down for the night, but nevertheless something in its proximity had changed. In the middle of the street, an old-fashioned vendor’s wooden cart lay abandoned, its display cases and cushions all but empty. Only one bore any trace of what the mobile shop’s owner might have been selling: smack dab in the middle of the main shelf, without any sort of container or protection, stood a golden arrow pinning a piece of parchment to the pine.

That note bore lettering in an ugly, scratchy style, not so much childish as that of someone who had learned the language, then gone through life without ever caring to improve. [i]Getting what you want just got a lot harder,[/i] it read. [i]You got strong enemies, and the College may be the least of them. Your next opponent cut a deal with a real powerful bunch and is coming for you from city center. This can even the odds for you. After having to deal with that upstart Barnaby, it’s only fair you enjoy the same boon. Just stab it in, won’t be fatal. Don’t have to if you don’t want, but you’ll probably be wiped out otherwise. Good luck.

-	a friend[/i]

[center][h3]The Cereal Killer[/h3]
Location: Oldtown
[@Propro][/center]

An empty moment passed before the wounded man stirred with a sudden jolt. A violent cough wracked him as he heaved onto his side, sending spittle flying across his chin and cheeks. With panicked breathing, he writhed around, eyes rolling from side to side as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. Garbled words issued from him, barely discernable as questions like [i]What happened? Where am I? What time is it?[/i] Confusion and agitation held Cyril firm, and more than anything he seemed to lack awareness. Feebly he attempted to pick himself up onto his hands and knees, but his limbs failed to support the weight of his body. After a moment of trying he slumped down onto his chest, head against the ground, and his eyes swept the horizon without focusing.

[center][h3]Inari[/h3]
Location: What Lies Beneath
[@Kapuchu][/center]

The entity known as Marotte tittered. [i]“You fl͜a̷t͞t̶er ͝your͝self͡. Únli͟k̀e ͞our̛ ͢m̸a͜st̶er ͞I ̵do ǹot̨ s̷e͞èķ y͏o̢u͝r approv̀a̷l.̸”[/i] It made its fingers into a tent and from eyeless, crescent slits stared down at Lily over them and its hooked nose. 

Nothing useful could be gleaned from the grotesque living mask of the jester as Lily disappeared, though Egon’s dispassionate gaze spoke for itself, and though I.O.’s round black eyes blinked a few times in succession he did appeared nonplussed. A few questions circulated unspoken among them: did this woman intend to play around with them, perhaps as an act of defiance to her master? Why did she follow her dismissal of what she took to be Marotte showing off with her own spectacle? Only a moment had passed in the new life of this fourfold companionship, but already Lily rubbed them the wrong way. Nevertheless, with their orders to support Lily holding firm, the denizens of Deadbeat Sky put aside the matter to proceed.

Their new acquaintance’s words infiltrated their minds, reaching them all at once, but out of the trio I.O. replied first, his answer sensible and concise. “Sure. Won’t find the enemy here, after all.” One at a time the three guardians began to move. They formed a single-file line with Egon taking the lead, Marotte prancing along behind him, and I.O. lumbering in the rear. Down the staircase they strode with purposeful haste, the titanic insect in particular taking a half-dozen steps with each of his paces, despite his rather diminutive legs.

As they approached, Lily’s unsuppressed conversation with Brucie carried to them over the empty, dead air of the great cavern. Marotte tilted its head in reply to her supposition that shapeshifting cost it any degree of effort, but he only ventured a response to its proclamation. [i]"Ah, a͜ ̀f̀ellow̶ j̕ok̀est͠e̶r̶! ̵P͟erhap̕s͘ w̢e w̶ill gét̀ a͟loǹg."̕[/i]

A moment later the group approached Lily’s location, and in organized fashion they spread out to stand abreast, with the smaller guardians on either side of I.O. A moment passed before, after a puff of his cigar, Egon addressed her, “Since ya set the meetin’ time ‘n all, ya must be ready to head out.” The smoldering cinders of his inner eyes lay on the enormous hole in the distance, through which morning sun streamed through. “We’s good to go.”