[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Twilight Town [/center]
[center]Lvl 9 (104/90) -> +24 from collabs, encounter xp, and friend hearts -> Lvl 9 (131/90) [/center]
[center]Word Count: 2,235 words[/center]

With their pieces said, the Seekers set out, leaving behind the denizens of Port O' Panic as they made their way to Twilight Town about the Tinkerslug. He wondered what his friends would say if they saw him now, risking his life to spare others, advocating for nonviolent solutions. He imagined Djikstra would laugh and ask where the hell his nonviolent solution was when he put him to the blade, but Geralt would ask the same in return.

Still, they'd gotten out of that without slaughtering the people to the last, which...was a victory of sorts. The others seemed rather upset with the boy, Omori, but Geralt caught sight of Pit talking with him, and figured if they really needed to talk, it could be later. Part of him wondered how he felt himself, if that was the first life he'd taken. Pity it was somebody so seemingly well-liked. If the Spirits they had (which Geralt set about crushing the leftovers of when nobody claimed them) were anything to go by, they'd done plenty of killing today. Nadia and Peach had killed their own quarries as well. Was Junior right and Omori had killed when it wasn't strictly necessary? Had the boy overestimated his own ability to end the fight? The Witcher didn't, and likely would never, know. But he didn't care either. He wouldn't ostracize the boy for what happened, and when he passed him and Pit, talking, he gave them both a nod. 

Soon enough, they arrived, and the Seekers piled out to greet their allies. It had been a while since they'd seen their allies, it felt. Especially for Blue Team, or at least those members who had endured the suffering of the Maw. They'd even lost some of those they set out with. Glenn, the Frog Prince, taken by the demonic denizens of the Maw. Mirage, who was still likely in Limsa. Though, he hadn't sought them out either. Perhaps he was content to keep things this way after seeing what their quest would be putting them up against. It was likely for the best. At least Link was merely staying behind for now. When they finally found Linkle, he didn't know how he could have broken that to her if he was really gone. 

They didn't get long to talk among themselves, though, as Peach had a better idea: forcing them to take a moment to introduce themselves, one by one. Which, given the size of their group and the new faces (or the changed faces) he saw, was fair enough. He wondered how many would recognize him, or simply assume who he was based on his hair color and the fact that he still had his two swords. The Spirits he'd taken in had changed his appearance noticeably, after all. 

First up was, of course, the Princess herself. He cocked an eyebrow when she mentioned her favorite sports, though he wondered how exactly 'gold' was a sport. Unless that was a joke. Royals...ugh. 

After her came a large fellow who called himself Big Band. It sounded almost like a title, though he specifically called it his name. A lawman like the Houndmaster, forced from his duty and by circumstance and now fighting against the Skullgirl. He'd have to ask what he knew, given that they were trying to save Linkle from that very curse. And then he displayed exactly why he was called what he was, by causing a band's worth of instruments appear from his body and play. Huh. That...was very strange. 

Tora and Poppi came after, each introducing themselves in their own way that felt nostalgically familiar to the old Witcher. Tora's constant excitement for the world, and his penchant for attractive women (which Geralt could hardly begrudge the little golem), and Poppi's serious demeanor. It was refreshing to see the two. He'd have to apologize to Tora for losing that weapon he made for him. It really did quite a good job for the time he had it. 

Nadia followed, introducing herself to the others in her painfully punny way. Geralt rolled his eyes at the linguistic onslaught, but that was just who she was. Ace would have his hands full with her, that was for sure. 

They were followed by two folks that Geralt didn't recognize: The first a kid who claimed himself to be a psychic warrior. It definitely seemed like a different sort than the telepathy he was used to from Yen, though, given that he required a physical device to use his powers. He wondered how useful that was in an actual fight, though he didn't say it. At least the kid supposedly had extensive training in acrobatics to keep himself safe. 

The next was a brightly costumed man who named himself part of a world's defense force, though if they really were only one hundred in number, Geralt wasn't sure how they could handle an entire world. Presumably some sort of advanced technology or magic. [i]Portals. Has to be portals,[/i] Geralt incorrectly assumed, his disdain for the magic coloring his thoughts. The man came off as perhaps overly earnest but dedicated. 

Then came the ex-member of Organization XIII. Geralt felt his hands ball into fists, his claws digging lightly into his gauntlets, at the mention of those black-robed interlopers. From the dice-headed whoreson who'd tried to kill them to the fool who bid them enter the Maw, Geralt had a bone to pick with those folks. Kamek could claim they were trying to help all she liked, but Geralt wasn't sure he believed they didn't have their own shady goals. They'd likely have to be dealt with at some point. The boy himself, though, seemed a capable combatant. He knew looks weren't all that mattered, but he was curious as to how some of the others he'd seen so far would fare in a fight. With two magical 'blades' and actual magic, though, Roxas seemed like he'd fit right in. 

Following him up was a dancer Geralt would admit to admiring perhaps a few moments longer than he should have (but never to Yen). Her outfit left some to the imagination, but much less than many others, and Geralt wondered if the agility offered by such light clothing was even remotely worth it. Unlikely, but it made for a pleasant sight. She stated that she would be able to enhance the magic of others, and [i]invigorate[/i] them with her dancing, which Geralt assumed was merely an innuendo for a genuine magical talent. However, it was her final statement that caught Geralt's attention the most: the dark expression that crossed her face told Geralt of something deeper. What it was he had no idea, but few learned how to wield a dagger for fun. 

Her companion who followed after her, however, was very succinct with his introduction. He was a thief of some talent, and able to get them where they shouldn't be without causing a disturbance like knocking a door open with Aard would. That could be useful, for sure. 

Ace followed in their footsteps, his own monster puns earning a small sigh from the Witcher. He took it back, those two linguistic terrorists were perfect for each other. 

He was followed by a floating creature, the nature of which gave Geralt pause. She was likely fused with Spirits, given the disparate nature of her attire, he body structure, and her magic, but what came from where he had no way of telling. She seemed almost vaguely familiar, but was likely a face he saw once at Alcamoth and never again at most. She introduced herself as the princess of Twilight, and Geralt sighed at yet another self-proclaimed royal being member of the Seekers, but based on the power she displayed, she was either telling the truth and had quite the bloodline, or she was a trickster trying to take a position of power. Either way, he saw no reason to challenge her or make an enemy. She at least wasn't as arrogant as Bowser. 

Speaking of the big guy, he grabbed his little Troop and leaped to where they'd been introducing themselves, but not after critiquing Midna's style and saying he could do better. More bombastic, for sure. But better? Eh, Geralt wasn't sure he'd go that far. Vague claims with little to show he could back that up. Junior at least showed off his flying vehicle, indicating his engineering talent, as well as his Pokemon, who were decently powerful in their own right. Kamek, as always, was the most grounded of the three, dutifully listing her abilities and what she contributed to the Seekers. Rika closed the group's introduction, showing off her Shipgirl guns and explaining her more unique circumstances. Decent enough, all things considered. 

Then came the robots. And the giant...bee...thing? He had no idea how to describe Sectonia, [i]yet another royal[/i]. He rolled his eyes when she said she had command over time and space, though he watched with dread growing in his stomach as she displayed at least some level of control over those very things with magic. It at the very least seemed limited enough that she was less a master of time and space and more a talented sorceress who could manipulate the flow of time in an area, though what she did to the air above them...Geralt couldn't quite understand. But he knew it would be unpleasant to experience. Hmm. That...was disturbing. 

Blazermate came next, and she demonstrated the invulnerability-granting energy that she collected from healing others with that weird weapon she had, among her other abilities including the zombie-creating. Though, he imagined others were as disturbed by that was he was. He'd mostly gotten used to it, but when he stopped to think about it...he tried not to think for very long. 

Susie then introduced herself as the...owner...?...of a company that produced robotics and other advanced technology, none of which Geralt understood beyond something about harvesting. At least she had that giant suit to fight in. As much as money would benefit the Seekers, it wouldn't help them if she got killed because she couldn't defend herself. 

Karin and Sakura followed after the cutesy robot, the former haughtily listing achievements as though this were some sort of interview for an apprenticeship, and the latter bumbling through an awkward introduction in her endearing and socially inept way. 

When Sakura finished and the two Street Fighters cleared the table, Geralt raised his arm and quickly strode to the fore, his enhanced height making him readily apparent for all as he stepped onto the makeshift stage. He was different from how he looked when the teams went their separate ways. He was just over seven and a half feet tall now, his hair roughly unchanged in style but shaggier overall. Most noticeable, though, was the black conical horn protruding from his forehead. He seemed more gaunt than he had been, as though he spent a long period of time without food and hadn't been able to eat much since. His armor had transformed as well, now a suit of black plate instead of the leather-and-chain it had been earlier. His gambeson was longer, protruding further down, and was now colored in red and white striped. Finally, his arms were a bit longer, almost unnaturally so, and his nails had been replaced by claws which extended past and out his gauntlets, which had transformed to accommodate the natural weapons. All in all, he looked much more like the monsters he hunted than he had previously, even with his catlike eyes and scarred visage.

“I am Geralt of Rivia. Just call me Geralt, though. I am a Witcher, a monster hunter like Ace, though we hail from different worlds. I lack the raw physicality of hunters like him, but I make up for it with a near-century of experience. As for my…unpleasant appearance, that’s the work of some Spirits I absorbed, including that of one of Galeem’s Guardians, the Orphan of Kos. I am an expert tracker, I have knowledge of how to fight and slay a wide variety of beasts and monsters, though unfortunately I haven’t always been able to make use of that knowledge in this strange new world we’re in. I can also utilize a number of simple magical spells known as Signs.” Saying this, Geralt made the Sign of Igni with his hand outstretched and aimed upwards, a blast of fire exploding from the magical sigil. 

“I’m a master in combat with swords, crossbows, and bows, though I can wield near about any weapon of war, given that it’s made for people who aren’t superhuman warriors like Ace,” he joked. “What you might find most interesting and strategically important, however, is this.” Geralt stepped down from the table, walked to the edge of the pier, and summoned the Breaching Bastion practically next to him. “The Breaching Bastion. A massive, waterbound cannon platform. With it, I can rival small armies, so long as we are adequately protected from vanguard units. It doesn’t repair itself, either, which means that I have to be very careful about where and when I use it.” Dismissing the Bastion, Geralt nodded. “If you’ve ever met Yennefer of Vengerburg in Alcamoth, she is my wife, hard as it may be to believe. That’s about it.” 

Finished, Geralt made his way back into the crowd for the next person to speak.