[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/MKK5m0sX/Kid-s-Hat-2.png[/img] [img]https://i.postimg.cc/G2xPk9Gk/Jiggy-2.png[/img] [b]Level:[/b] [color=8258fa]4 (4 -> 6/40)[/color] | [color=fed428]2 (13 -> 15/20)[/color] [b]Location:[/b] Hammerhead/[color=8258fa]Grillby’s[/color] -> [color=fed428]Northbound to Dead Zone[/color] -> [color=8258fa]Southbound to Land of Adventure[/color] [b]Word Count:[/b] 1236 (+2 EXP) [i](B-K level up TBD)[/i] [/center] With the help of their fellow ally, the quarrel between the hunter and the party of four seemingly arrived at a peaceful, if disagreeable resolution. The regal quartet diving off in spite of the irritated young man’s advisory was as good a sign as any for the bear and bird that their help wasn’t needed, or wanted, so they elected not to hang around the scene any longer than they had to. However, with one conflict prevented, another greater one was taking place while they weren’t looking. Their attention was drawn to the sound of violent commotion coming from the garage, prompting them to investigate, but by the time they made their way to the door the fighting was over, their allies a little worse for wear, but otherwise okay. The duo could only observe the aftermath of the battle with a mechanical avian that lay center punched and lifeless against the wall, the ashes of its dead form already starting to scatter. With the known roles and personalities of the apparent combatants, it was hard to believe--and thus easy to rule out--that they would have simply picked a fight with it. The explanatory expression of regret from the kindly ranger, as well as Princess’s apologies to the owners served to all but ensure as much. On that note, in similar fashion to Peach from earlier in the day, the dancer gently drew forth the fallen reploid’s spirit, examined it sympathetically for a brief moment, took it into herself, and began to change, merging aspects of the spirit with herself. This made the second demonstration of spirit-based transformation the duo had witnessed today, and that it came with a fancy set of retractable wings made her a tad jealous as she looked at her own, reminding her that they weren’t good for much as they currently were. A trilling, disappointed [color=f60000]“Aww…”[/color] escaped her as she lowered her head ruefully at the realization that even flight was beyond her for the time being. Banjo, with a hand held to his chin, simply beheld the phenomenon with curious fascination, but he wouldn’t have time to think much harder about it. By then, the assertive mediator from earlier, having reached an accord with the punkish amputee (one “Nero”, apparently), approached the group with a proposal: a [b]“spooky”[/b] detour to the Dead Zone to defeat a bizarre, demonic entity with what was a possibly Gothic name that Banjo would most likely misspell. [color=0aaaff]“Hmm… that sure does [i]sound[/i] spooky,”[/color] Banjo visibly pondered. [color=0aaaff]“I can’t imagine why we’d make a special trip to go there,”[/color] he further suggested, as if to decline; whether at a loss of nerve or out of abject laziness was anyone’s guess. Then came enthusiastically competitive talk of demon killing... [color=f60000]“[i]That[/i] would be why,”[/color] Kazooie answered dryly in reference to the conversation in question. [color=0aaaff]“Because they’ll need our help?”[/color] Banjo inquired, pinching his forehead in slight, but obvious exasperation. [color=f60000]“Yyyy-yes, because we can’t let them go alone,”[/color] Kazooie falsely clarified, doing a bad job of hiding the other half of her intentions that involved getting in on that “contest”. [color=0aaaff]“*Sigh.* I’ll go bring the kart around.”[/color] Banjo resigned himself to the unplanned change of course, figuring that it couldn’t be much worse than where they were going before, even if it very obviously sounded like it. Come to think of it, he didn’t have a good answer to his own question. No matter which way him and Kazooie went, neither of them had a clear reason of their own for going there, nor for tagging along with a party, considering that the two of them usually just adventured on their own. As far as the duo were concerned, wherever they could help was where they needed to be, and this was the closest thing to a definite sign of that they’d gotten thus far. Hopefully, no one from the majority party would mind a few of them splitting off for the time being to go take care of something else. They would eventually have to come back around to it anyways, so a little sequence breaking couldn’t hurt. Banjo made a point of informing Princess Peach--if no one else--of the party split as a polite courtesy to the generous curator of their journey, rather than running out on their new friends so soon without saying anything, but it didn’t stop him from apologizing for it still. Afterwards, he went to top off the Trolley before pulling up behind the van to await their imminent departure, offering the cargo space to any willing/needy passengers of their company who could fit and didn’t mind not having an actual seat to themselves. Though it wouldn’t be much, refueling gave the bear and bird a minute discuss the trip amongst themselves… [color=f60000]“Sooo… demons, zombies, undead… You think there’ll be any [i][b]witches[/b][/i] there too?”[/color] [color=0aaaff]“*Shudder* I sure hope not. I’m not looking forward to a reunion right now.”[/color] [hr] After taking a couple of sizable drinks from the half full pitcher of lukewarm, iceless water she was hastily handed by the apprehensive pyroid, Hat Kid matched His Highness Bowser’s order (minus one) while making a few creative modifications to it. She requested medium rare with candied bacon and a sunny side fried egg on a toasted bun, with a side of nacho-loaded fries and a banana shake (un-spiked) to chase it all down with. While the barkeep was marking down every individual patrons’ tabs, Kid tried to see if she couldn’t negotiate hers by offering an alternative option of favor in return for food--like taking care of some of his chores or running an errand for him. If he accepted those terms, she would set to fulfilling them as soon as he called them in, or volunteer to settle it then and now if time permitted. Whatever the owner’s request, assuming it was within reason, shouldn’t take her longer than her crew spent at the station to fulfill, as she had done worse favors for less savory characters in roughly the same amount of time in the past. Before that could be followed up on, however, the Koopa King, outraged over the prices being charged, paid out for him and all of his “minions” with a clawful of confettied gold buttons from his coat and angrily stormed out. The child stopped chewing for a moment in minor disbelief after seeing this and shrugged to the bartender, bearing a look of confusion as to whether her would still be expecting anything of her. Otherwise, she would spend the remainder of her time there watching, intrigued, as the Courier cleared out the Poker table, as promised. After Six walked out with his winnings, Kid would finish her meal and shortly follow. Their business seemingly satisfied, the convoy soon got back on the road heading south. Hat Kid noted a conspicuous downsizing of their crew once again, but didn’t concern herself too much with the fact or the reason. The business of the outgoing party members was theirs, and she had her own to take care of. Speaking of which, she would be keeping her senses sharp, her compass active, and her top hat on and checked throughout the trip, until such time as the situation called for a change of hats. If her findings were potentially substantial enough to warrant briefly making her own break from the group to seek them out--even momentarily--so be it.