[center][h3][color=tan]Courier 6[/color] and [color=orange]Ratchet[/color] and [color=sandybrown]Jak &[/color] [color=darkorange]Daxter[/color][/h3] [b]Level 6[/b] - (39/60) EXP (+2),[b]Level 6[/b] - (12/60) (+2), [b]Level 4[/b] - (5/40) (+2) [b]Location:[/b] Ancestral Farmstead Dead Zone - Redgraccoon Police Department [b]Word Count:[/b]1115[/center] The Courier remained standing, breathing heavily, panting large deep breaths as the blood trickled down his face. At his current size the normally small droplets splashed into small puddles on the ground. The brachydios lay before them all, dead and melting away, just as all life seemed to do in this perverted world of Galeem’s creation. He was thankful, as even though the stimpack healed him it wasn’t a 100% heal. He wasn’t looking forward to tusseling more with that monster, but he stayed vigilant, stayed in battle mode. He had no useful weapon on hand, just the broken handle of his pickaxe, but his brain hadn’t made the switch yet so he was ready to shove the sharp, jagged end of the stick into anything that approached him that he didn’t like. Of course, no such thing happened as he finally allowed himself to calm down. Kamek’s spell wore off, reducing the Courier (and his broken weapon) to normal size. Everyone went about gathering up spirits and readying themselves for the journey back to Lumbridge. The Courier flitted his eyes around, taking it all in but not participating. So that was it, then? It wasn’t the boss of the area. The creature didn’t have the same effect as the larger, more evil Bowser when it died, so it couldn’t be one of the guardians. Dammit all! So much effort, so much ammo used, and for what? Nothing of note. And worst of all, he went and did it [i]for free.[/i] [color=tan]”I ain’t aimin’ ta take that beasty’s spirit. Too much explosion, not at all t’my likin,’”[/color] he drawled to nobody in particular, making his intentions known. Damn, and it would’ve been a great spirit to have, too. A great gun, or maybe armored scales, or hell even as a striker it’d be beneficial. But no, the Courier had his morals, as few and far between as they were. If he didn’t stick to them, what did he have in the end? He sighed, having to resign this whole situation as a personal bust. [color=tan]”I fuckin’ hate workin’ fer free,”[/color] he mumbled, stepping over toward Drumstick. Ivories returned to him, and to his pokeball, and the Courier mounted his chocobo. [color=tan]”Ready for a run back, girl?”[/color] Drumstick squawked happily, relieved to finally be out of danger. [color=tan]”Yeah, me too.”[/color] He paused a moment to look around them, up into the sky. The golden light had faded, something which he took note of in his own unique way. [color=tan]”And now the sky stopped raining popcorn too. Damn, this whole thing really was a massive bust. I hope the guild reward fer that varmint is worth it.”[/color] [img]https://steamuserimages-a.akamaihd.net/ugc/576726810730114328/5EC31B066A5F6A12F509D790A10B53F26FA3FD7B/?imw=512&&ima=fit&impolicy=Letterbox&imcolor=%23000000&letterbox=false[/img] The Courier spurred his mount into a full run, keeping pace with the large monster truck. [hr] Once the whole group arrived back in Lumbridge, the Courier called out to everyone without getting off Drumstick. Those who were still awake anyway, though he was certainly loud enough to wake all but the most heavy of sleepers. [color=tan]”I don’t aim to be restin’ tonight. Got too much to do. After we regroup an’ get our reward, I plan on settin’ out back to that rest stop we passed by to get here. Going to use their shop and parts to built me a new robot friend. Any hombres willin’ to come with me can, lord knows I could use the help. I got enough black coffee to keep two more people fully energized.”[/color] [hr][hr] Ratchet acknowledged Fox as they passed by (nearly crashing together, really) and briefly returned to the main hall where it was discussed how to appease their ghostly attacker. Donnie went ahead and took it upon himself to conduct the ritual, even using his own food stores rather than the plain dry cup of noodles they had lucked into. Ratchet felt the situation was in good hands and that his talents would be best suited elsewhere. After all, there was still that serial killer to look out for, and he was the one with the best chances of taking that jerk down. [color=orange]”Since Fox’s group didn’t get into the kind of trouble we were expecting, I’m heading back out. I’m thinking this kind of guy is more likely to strike if I’m separated from everyone else, but Blazer, you can tag along again.”[/color] With that, Ratchet took off, this time running toward… Anything. He wasn’t even paying attention, just exploring the police station at random. Wherever luck took him was where it took him, but he made sure to avoid where the gatherings and crowds were. This serial killer had outed himself, and they worked best by targeting people who strayed from larger groups, so sticking to the empty, quiet rooms was how Ratchet would lure this “artist” out. [hr] Jak was running alongside Eddie and Tess, heading east to gather more civilians, when something caught Daxter’s eye. The ottsel’s head froze in place as they ran by a window, his neck stretching out as his body kept moving, only to slingshot back as though his frozen head were some sort of immovable anchor in space. [color=darkorange]”Jak, buddy ol’ pal of mine?”[/color] he said, rather quietly and calmly. [color=darkorange]”WE GOT PROBLEMS!”[/color] The thin veneer of a calm mind quickly exploded into the mess of anxiety and fear Daxter had been choking back. Jak doubled back to where his friend was and looked where Daxter had looked: out the window. A massive gathering of monsters had taken place: zombies, demons, creatures they hadn’t seen or yet encountered, all monstrocities and worse yet were the sheer number of them! Hundreds, maybe thousands, and the army was growing still larger. Jak’s eyes got big. [color=sandybrown]”Yeah. That’s a problem. Come on.”[/color] Jak grabbed his ottsel friend by the neck and yanked Daxter along, where they caught up with the other two quickly. [color=darkorange]”We gotta fix this mondo problem extra fast, guys! I don’t want to be zombie chow! They don’t even season their foo-oo-ood!”[/color] Daxter cried little sobs as he elongated the word. Luckily, unknown to them, the ritual to satiated the ghost keeping them all trapped was already under way! Of course things weren’t going on track, but hey, when did things ever progress smoothly in the life of a couple intrepid heroes? [color=sandybrown]”Move it, civilians!”[/color] Jak barked, gesturing with his hands authoritatively.