[center][h3]Sector 07 Slums[/h3]
Level 11 Tora (151/110) Level 12 Poppi (41/120)
Giovanna, Roxas’ [@Double], Pit’s [@Yankee], Susie’s [@Archmage MC], Zenkichi’s [@Multi_Media_Man], Partitio’s [@Dark Cloud]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1303[/center]

Together the gang of Seekers made their way from clustered midtown toward the junkyard outskirts of the Slums, fast enough to make decent progress but not so speedy as to make a scene. Everyone needed to keep their eyes out for anything that could be of use on their quest to range beyond the city limits, after all. With this undercity decently populated but not jam-packed, its buildings seldom more than a couple stories high, and its dirt roads given over to foot traffic ninety-nine percent of the time, just about everywhere was quite well-lit and wide open. Tora and Poppi ended up feeling less on-edge than in Detroit, and despite her misgivings about the area Susie could breathe easy metaphorically speaking, especially with her eager bodyguard Pit on the case. Still, she ended up suggesting that the team assault whoever might be buying from the salvagers here, which left Poppi confused.

“I’m not sure how nefarious any hypothetical buyers would be,” she reasoned. “There could be any number of mundane reasons for wanting machine parts. Stripping out precious metals from semiconductors, melting down metal plating for construction material, or recycling circuitry for use in everyday electronics, just to name a few. If wars with the Machines are as commonplace as they seem, the salvage from battles against them are probably a major source of pre-processed resources for the city.” She tilted her head, thinking. “If we think of this place as one massive ecosystem, the people in the Slums are probably the decomposers, like earthworms and termites. A humble but vital part of the environment. And the results of their hard work simply goes on to feed the plants.” She smiled, pleased with her analogy. “Industrial plants, in this case.”

Zenkichi and Pit were both on board with the general plan of hunting down the Machines before they could encroach on the undercities, but the latter wondered why people wouldn’t just take care of things if they could figure out where the mechanical menace might originate from. “People here probably lack means to fight robopons,” Tora ventured a guess. “Maybe it even too much for DespoRHado to mount all-out assault, meh.”

“That’s my guess,” Giovanna chimed in. “The Machines are a relentless enemy, and they operate with brutal efficiency. Their factories are probably deathtraps, defended by devious anti-human traps and the deadliest units in their entire arsenal. Just fumigating their facilities with toxic gas would be enough to make an invasion nigh-impossible.” She shrugged. “Maybe they’d have enough raw manpower if Psych-OSF joined in, but as-is an assault on the source of the Machine threat is probably just a bad value proposition. Too much risk. So it’s a war of attrition until they finally build up enough firepower, trying to stockpile faster than the Machines can wear them down.”

At about that time, the group neared a sturdy-looking merchant with a nice hat, standing on a soapbox to make sure his voice was heard. He’d already attracted some attention from the locals, and both Tora and Poppi gave him a listen as they passed by. It sounded like he wanted to get some people together to try and improve the living conditions around here. The Slums weren’t exactly a trash heap -poor as they might be, nobody wanted to live in squalor- but things could definitely be a lot better. Still, it seemed like a monumental task, and despite his good intentions this strident fellow was just one man. 

Pit took an interest in him, and mentioned that he might be able to help them in some way. Giovanna, however, couldn’t be sure. “Salvagers aren’t exactly service workers. Their business is breaking things down, not building them up.” She raised an eyebrow in Partitio’s direction. “This guy’s more concerned with urban planners, civil engineers, and tradesmen. He might be able to get some work done by recruiting random civilians, but he’d need to pay them better than whatever their current work does.” The secret agent sighed lightly. “Money’s what gets things done. That’s true whether you’re up on a plate, or down here in their shadows.”

Still, it was worth a shot. Tora waddled up to the small crowd around Partitio, waving his wings. “Hello!” he called, trying to think of a way to explain his situation without causing widespread panic by mentioning a possible Machine invasion. “Tora and friends trying to help people down here too, meh. Found way to keep them safe out in valley ruins, in fact. It very dangerous, so we wonder if you know way to cover ground fast outside city?” Unfortunately, Partitio happened to be new in Sector 07 himself, and even less in the know than the Seekers. Still, Tora might have managed to pique the merchant’s interest.

The heroes kept moving. They checked in at whatever public buildings they could for any rough and tough, rugged-looking salvage crews. Tora led the way, more animated and gung-ho than usual. He couldn’t deny that the mention of ‘salvage’ ignited a faint hope in his heart; there was someone who specialized in such a trade that he really, really wanted to see. After some asking around in public places like Whirling-In-Rags, he and Poppi learned of the existence of a depot connected to Scrap Boulevard, through which its vehicles reached the outside world, as well as a little history about the industry. Apparently the salvage crews used to operate as small, tight-knit, independent units, but that led to competition as well as vulnerability to Machine attacks. More recently though, they’d been united into the Sector 07 Salvage Corps under the direction of an engineer named Isaac Clark, who was skilled and dependable despite suffering from acute PTSD from previous experiences. With high-power tools to defend themselves, the salvagers could afford to be a little more daring in their operations, driving out into dangerous areas to secure the best loot. They reported the pertinent information to Giovanna, and soon the team was on their way.

They headed for Scrap Boulevard, stopping only to gawk at a big, [url=https://i.imgur.com/jathXcZ.png]fluffy creature[/url] as it flew majestically overhead, perhaps keeping watch over the people of the slums. A couple minutes away from their destination, with the orange paint and flood lights of the Salvage Depot in sight, the team passed by a two-story stone apartment complex called [url=https://i.imgur.com/FSTp4qh.png]Stargazer Heights[/url]. Out front stood a trio that Tora recognized: [url=https://i.imgur.com/t2AyHLb.png]Marshall[/url], [url=https://i.imgur.com/59uxrFY.png]Big Bo[/url], and [url=https://i.imgur.com/3norzYG.png]Cain[/url], the Rust Crew they ran into yesterday afternoon while exploring Detroit. “Oh!” Poppi exclaimed upon noticing them. “We saw those men yesterday. They said they were looking for a special kind of Machine called a Hollow Child, who was attempting to escape with some sensitive data.” She glanced at Zenkichi. “That sounds like the target you were after. Right, Masterpon?”

Tora didn’t answer for a moment. He’d been momentarily distracted by the sight of a gorgeous [url=https://i.imgur.com/9ul1Blt.png]black-haired woman[/url] heading out from Stargazer Heights with a moody-looking [url=https://i.imgur.com/vssR3Ba.png]blonde mercenary[/url]. The young lady was saying something about the Neighborhood Watch and the Beginner’s Hall, and the two went in the direction of a [url=https://i.imgur.com/G1A5jwL.png]crude building[/url] also near the entrance to Scrap Boulevard. Only when Poppi nudged him did he stir. “Mehmeh? What is it? Tora lost in thought…uh, sightseeing.”

“Ugggh.” Poppi turned her attention back to Zenkichi. “Anyway, we could speak with them. Obviously they didn’t catch the Hollow Child either, but maybe they know something, or could still help us.”

Giovanna nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll go ahead to the Salvage Depot to see if we can arrange something. If we’re lucky they’ll be looking for extra help today. Might even be able to score a truck.” Team members could join her, stay to investigate the Rust Crew, or pursue other leads as they prepared to leave Midgar behind.

[center][h3]Sector 05 Seiran[/h3]
Level 4 Goldlewis (10/40)
Karin’s [@Zoey Boey], Midna’s [@DracoLunaris], Blazermate’s [@Archmage MC], Geralt [@Multi_Media_Man], Benedict’s [@Dark Cloud]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 847[/center]

Midna wasn’t the only one who busied herself in the new hideout well before the Bridges personnel were set to arrive. Once the Twilight Princess set up the portal, Goldlewis bravely volunteered to help test it, and after calling Jessica back at base via phone glyph to confirm that a random piece of junk sent through appeared on the other side, he returned to headquarters to have a quick word with Vernon. When he returned, Goldlewis brought with him some supplies, including a box of rolled-up trash bags. After that, he began the daunting task of cleaning up this place. Whether decorated veteran or secretary of defense, nobody was above tidying up. While Midna practiced necromancy on one of the operating tables, which did not bear thorough examination, Goldlewis steadfastly picked up around and swept up the new hideout. He disposed of everything left behind or otherwise dumped here since its abandonment, amassing a pile of white trash bags by the door. Then, with paper towels, cleaning spray, wet wipes, and a whole lot of elbow grease, he worked to make the place not just clean, but liveable.

Dust, cobwebs, stains, smears, and more fell before him like wheat to the scythe. Goldlewis made quick and efficient work of this task, a well-practiced routine honed during a lifetime of living alone as a rather fastidious and particular fellow. He ran into only one setback upon the completion of Midna’s unholy project, when her newly-revived creation left a hole in the ceiling that showered down powdery slivers on its armor. Considering that the roof in here was high enough for a man of his stature to stand comfortably, Goldlewis was impressed, although that wasn’t going to stop him pounding this failed experiment into scrap metal with his nearby coffin. Luckily for her, Midna hurried to convince him that it was an accident and that she had the dark knight totally under her control and that he wouldn’t be engaging in any more destruction. Goldlewis shot her a dubious look, as the dark arts distinctly struck him as something to avoid dabbling in just in general, but he left the juggernaut uncrumpled. Midna made plans to leave soon after, and Goldlewis helped shoo her out the door and on her way. For better or worse, he did seem to be a control freak about his space.

Not long after, the team from Bridges came knocking at the hideout door. Wearing light, loose-fitting gray protective suits and balaclavas, the builders came equipped with satchels, backpacks, and plenty of tools. Their foreman also wore an odd metal necklace, with several shiny rectangular segments. “Howdy,” he said, reaching out his hand. “Die-Hardman said y’all might need a hand gettin’ situated. We’re here to help.”

Goldlewis clasped the foreman’s hand warmly, linked via instantaneous kinship to his fellow southerner. “We’re much obliged to ya. I’d be happy to give y’all a hand while you’re here, too.”

First order of business was to get a Chiral Network node installed, which Goldlewis decided to have installed in the more techy, blue-lit part of the hideout. Once erected and attached to the building’s power grid, which took remarkable little time, the node terminal was connected to the network via the foreman’s necklace, which he referred to as a Q-pid. The physics equations engraved on its tags as it floated above the device contained all of the necessary security and operations protocols to integrate the terminal, and when it finished scanning the node came to life, displaying a holographic screen. “All hooked up!” the foreman declared, patting his palms. “Right, what else ya want? Now that we’re connected and able to transfer buildin’ materials, we can rustle up just about anythin’ ya might need. Beds, for one. I figure y’ain’t sleepin’ on them operatin’ tables.”

“No way.” Goldlewis balked at the suggestion, imagining what Midna might do if she began to see everyone as test subjects. He quickly tried to take stock of everyone who’d need a place to sleep here, and where to put them. “Hmm. Well, I reckon your standard military cots would be fine,” he said, too busy wondering who needed sleep and who -like Blazermate- did not consider that people like Karin might want something nicer. Though he did wonder if she might like better training equipment than the empty spot she was currently using. Obviously it would be nicer to have the beds in the more natural yellow-lit side of the hideout, and there were two former supply rooms he’d cleaned out that might fit the bill. “Let’s do eight of ‘em, extra large. Four in each room, here…and here. I assume you can stack ‘em like bunk beds?” They could, so Goldlewis gave a nod of approval. His nose wrinkled slightly, though, and the lingering smells in the supply rooms. “Could use some air freshener. Fans too. And this main area oughta be the kitchen, so let’s get a table and some chairs made up. And then…”

With Goldlewis at the helm, the renovation team got busy. Any other Seekers who remained in the hideout could help direct their efforts too, however, to outfit their new residence as they liked.

[hr]

Few dedicated methods of reaching the reservoir from Seiran existed. People did not want, and indeed had no reason, to go down, and they didn’t want anything that might be down there to get up. For those with enough commitment, however, there were still plenty of ways to make that undesirable journey. Descenders could climb down the girders and cross-beams of tall support structures, slowly make their way through skyscraper interiors in search of stairs, or maybe get lucky enough to find a private winch-lift they could acquire the use of. In reality, most would end up braving a gauntlet of bridges, platforms, and ladders extending from or stuck to the exteriors of the buildings, many of shoddy workmanship and dubious stability. No doubt it would be much harder going back up. And after all that effort, what would an intrepid explorer find? A feculent, polluted lake of stagnation and decay.

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kWLh3ODByHU&ab_channel=EDT[/youtube][/center]

The water, if it could be called that, was primarily brown in color and nearly opaque. Nobody could see more than a foot or two into it even where there weren’t giant red and green algal blooms blanketing the reservoir’s surface, and those thick mats of toxic cyanobacterial scum looked solid enough to walk on. Even more plentiful was the trash. Large garbage patches could be found all over the reservoir, not just clustered around the rocky ‘shores’ around the bases of the skyscrapers, but free-floating in massive streaks of rubbish. People couldn’t be stopped when it came to throwing their trash away even in the best of times, and the idea that polluting the reservoir would help speed up the extinction of psifish probably didn’t help. No doubt plenty of sewage and industrial waste made its way here, too.

Still, there were living things here, sick and sorry as they might be. Midgar was home to plenty of people who lived in poverty; the existence of an entire undercity referred to as the Slums was proof enough. The same could not be said of this place. There was no community here, nor were there people to form one, only degenerate creatures supplemented with the odd castaway. [url=https://i.imgur.com/bKTyUuE.png]Ghoulish wretches[/url] and [url=https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/120/images/11562-1-1267948347.jpg]feral troglodytes[/url] roamed the unwholesome islands and prowled the lumber walkways that floated on tires and other refuse, happy to attack any potential meals on sight. Sometimes the furtive movement of [url=https://i.imgur.com/WZ1Guw3.png]freakish crustaceans[/url] could be spotted, stealthily preying on the unwary. [url=https://i.imgur.com/sGEfWoD.png]Giant parasites[/url] clung to the walls and outcroppings out of the crawlers’ reach. There was a [url=https://i.imgur.com/u5lk93t.png]shoggoth[/url] just sitting out there in the open, looking wistful in an eldritch sort of way.

Most interesting were the strange, luminescent, vaguely aquatic creatures that Midna realized must be the psi-fish. They floated on or just above the reservoir’s surface, pulsing with blue or pink light. Some looked like [url=https://minionsart.github.io/aowp/Previews/psi-fish_spawn.mp4]jellyfish or perhaps paper lanterns[/url], flickering like will-o-wisps, and some looked more like [url=https://minionsart.github.io/aowp/Previews/psi-fish_chrysalis.mp4]ghosts[/url] that drifted around in small packs. A [url=https://minionsart.github.io/aowp/Previews/psi-fish_hunter.mp4]couple[/url] seemed more purposeful, as if on the hunt, but all of them moved and shone in a lugubrious, sickly manner. Long ago theirs might have been a captivatingly beautiful but deadly display, but today all over the reservoir they blinked weakly, a faltering and pitiful parade.

Aside from that, there just wasn’t much here. Just garbage, piscine horrors, and whatever foul things might flourish in such an environment as this. Midna might have a hard time even finding anyone to talk to. Her best chances lay in the few hovels and shelters sequestered in spots that the more bestial creatures here would have a hard time reaching. It wasn’t just monsters down here, she knew, so those must be the ‘homes’ of lepers and lunatics cast down to die in this blighted nightmare where none of them might rise to trouble the ordinary world again.

[center][h3]Home of Tears[/h3]
Level 10 Nadia (146/100)
The Koopa Troop’s [@DracoLunaris], Primrose and Therion’s [@Yankee], Sectonia’s [@Archmage MC], Jesse’s [@Zoey Boey], Omori’s [@Majoras End], Ganondorf’s [@Double], Rubick’s [@Scarifar], Teemo’s [@Bugman], Ichiban’s [@Truthhurts22], the Knight
[b]Word Count:[/b] 2263[/center]

With her visit to Seam’s ‘seap’ concluded, Nadia returned to Habbo Hotel, and when she arrived she was happy to see the downstairs lobby teeming with friends both new and old. Sure enough, the contingent that she and the others managed to leave behind in the Ruins had forged their own path to the City of Tears, and no doubt they found their way here specifically thanks to the hint Nadia left with Undyne and the mermaid guard. From the looks of it she’d arrived mere moments after the Koopa Troop and Sectonia returned from an outing of their own, so the feral joined them in the lobby.

“Mornin’!” she greeted them, her sunny disposition all the brighter juxtaposed to the underground city’s perennial rainfall. No matter how many hells Nadia got dragged through, one could always count on her to have a smile on her face. “Nice of ya to join us! I was hopin’ my little hint would help ya find us if you were in the area.” She spread her hands out and looked from side to side around the hotel’s bottom floor, giving the Troop a good look at her fancy orange bathrobe. “Isn’t this cool? I’ve never seen such a ‘lodge’ hotel in my life. It’s inn-sane! And I managed to get a big room all to myself on the top floor. Pretty ‘suite’, right? Makes me feel like some kinda purr-incess!” The royals found themselves subjected to a brutal barrage of hotel-related puns. Of course, compared to actual premium hotels Habbo seemed more focused on quantity than quality, but Nadia didn’t know any better.

After saying hi to the Koopa Troop and Sectonia she kept moving, making sure to check in on everyone. Rubick she didn’t know too well, but she could tell that his outfit changed somewhat. “Ooh, what a menacing look. A mage-er improvement!” she grinned at him. While it seemed like the Adventurer didn’t make it here, Bowser’s bunch did pick up a new member, and Nadia loved him the moment she laid eyes on him. “Holy frijoles, you’re the cutest little guy I’ve ever seen!” the feral cooed, crouching down to pet Teemo on the head. “Welcome to the party. I hope you’re ready ‘fur’ an adventure!” She also patted the Knight on top of its helmet, and though its milk-white facade betrayed no emotion, it followed her around afterward. Next she stopped by the Octopath Travelers, who’d been catching up together. She only wrinkled her sensitive nose as the faint traces of the Rancid Egg a little. “Hiya! Lookin’ good, Primrose! And Therion…” Nadia squinted, her brows furrowed together in confusion. “Were you always this [i]pequeño[/i]…? I mean, it’s cool. I’d never dare to think ‘little’ of you!” Giggling, she hurried on her way.

While looking around for her next pun victim, Nadia spotted something weird. It floated near Omori like a balloon or a kite, but it looked way spookier than any toy. Something about it left the feral’s mouth dry, and she couldn’t help but swallow nervously. Leaving Omori to his own devices, she greeted Jesse next, out of puns for the time being. “...Good morning!”

Ganondorf showed up a moment later, and with a new haircut, so Nadia gave him a wave. “I like your ‘cut, G!” But she ended up heading over to Ichiban like Primrose did before. “Oh hey, it’s you!” she said to him, grinning. “Thanks again for last night. Really, uh, saved our bacon.” As an expert when it came to lining her own pockets, she hadn’t failed to notice the man saving bacon in a more literal sense. She didn’t judge him for it of course, since she’d done the same on many occasions, but it sort of took her by surprise. Wouldn’t the lint-seasoned sludge he extracted later be too gross for the tastes of a man in a suit? She dropped her voice a couple notches as she leaned on the table next to him. “...From one opportunist to another, y’might be better off with those li’l plastic vats fulla yogurt. Better than pocket eggs, take it from me!”

Once everyone got settled, the general conversation turned toward a singular topic: what to do today. In general the Seekers’ current goal was to obtain enough mask fragments to recreate the three whole masks that would unseal the Black Egg, and they’d already managed to gather an impressive third of the total amount, but the discoveries made by both teams about the Home of Tears precipitated another important matter: the involvement of the Consuls. The report from the team that came via Ash Lake about the Flame Clocks, and by extension the very nature of the World of Light, left Nadia agape. “Well…” she murmured as she tried to take the revelation in. “That explains a lot.” So this ‘lifelight’ made people all over the world dependent not just on the Clocks, but on continuous combat, and those who didn’t fight for it probably relied on others to sustain them. That sort of explained why gleaming people fought so relentlessly when aggravated, but in the end the news just left Nadia with more questions that couldn’t be answered.

Regardless, everyone more or less came to the same conclusion, if they hadn’t already from Rush Hour in the Nyakuza Metro and the disastrous elevator ride down into the Chasm: the Consuls needed to go. It seemed like a foregone conclusion that one of not both of the Consuls who seemed to preside over the Under would show up to cause more problems later, and one apparently lived in the Home of Tears anyway, so the sooner he was dealt with, the better. “So, Consul P. He lives in Gallo Tower up in the Royal Quarter, that giant buildin’ with the clock. Oh, that reminds me!” She pulled the letter she’d gotten from Berg from her pouch and laid it down on a coffee table. “I guess when you guys got in last night, someone in Gallo Tower spotted ya. But he let ya go without sayin’ anythin’. Cornifer and Asgore made P-brain sound like a real dick. If the people here ain’t fond of him, maybe this IGV guy’s an insider who wants to overthrow ‘em.” 

A handful of other Seekers agreed that it was worth checking out, at least. From the letter it sounded like the Soul Sanctum would be dangerous, so sending a small team to pay it a visit might be a good idea, but any others had a lead they could pursue them, as well. That piscine guard captain came to mind, for instance; in a city ostensibly run by an evil overlord, she seemed rather good-natured and good-intentioned for an authority figure. Nadia invited Ichiban along, mentioning that her team’s adventures were a good way to make money. No matter where they went, though, the heroes needed to get a move on. Time wasn’t on their side.

[hr]

[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zRYC0G3dq_0&ab_channel=RV08][img]https://i.imgur.com/pn9kEtf.png[/img][/url]
[i]Click for music[/i][/center]

Each of the city’s four districts had its own distinct style, and among them -barring the wacky whimsy of the Amusement Park- the Collection struck Nadia as the most interesting. Rather than a roughly fan-shaped stretch of solid ground it took the form of numerous disjointed islands, broken up by disorganized canals and connected by bridges. More giant paper boats like the one that brought Nadia’s crew in from the Womb last night meandered through the Collection in a constant, self-propelled circuit, providing a predictable and consistent way to get around. On closer inspection, the islands and buildings themselves were made of books, with trees of paper and pencil-shaped streetlights. Even stranger were the giant, ephemeral letters that floated in the air overhead like an odd, literary smog, with all sorts of words constantly forming and unforming. As Nadia watched, three letters floated above her head to form the word ‘cat’, which she dispersed with a wave of her hands.

However, despite its bookish appearance, the Collection harbored a dedicated mercantile focus, with countless waterfront markets and stores situated against a backdrop of industrial facilities, like a cannery, a printer, a refinery, a foundry, and other factories. Scattered throughout were a number of the Home of Tears’ iconic towers, tall, black, and cylindrical with shell-shaped blue glass windows. Only one of those towers’ windows gave off a ghostly white glow, and Nadia headed there. When she arrived, she found the Soul Sanctum seemingly abandoned, its only entrance cordoned off, but the bulwark built over its front entrance lay unbarred and ajar. Within, the whispery darkness seemed to beckon. “Guess IGV already went inside,” she muttered, assuming that it would take more than some random miscreant to unseal this ill-omened doorway. As a precaution Nadia pulled one of her new grips from her belt, then inserted it into the casing to attach a blade. Giant box cutter in hand, she stepped toward the door. “I’ll take point again, and make sure anythin’ waitin’ to ambush us gets the ‘point’ too, so…don’t mind if I do.”

[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-oDHTq-XKsU&ab_channel=TheEmbracedOne][img]https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Gh6-ZLy8Kf8/maxresdefault.jpg[/img][/url]
[i]Click for music[/i][/center]

Nadia was the first to set foot within the eerie place, disturbing the silence with the creak of the door. She found herself inside a grim facility, somewhere between a grand library, complete with columns, and a hospital, but rather than dusty volumes its shelves were packed with samples, tablets, tinctures, and instruments, laden with indecipherable text inscribed on paper and stone. Much of it was discarded, piled high with frustrated impunity. Dubious stains and maddened scrawls covered walls and furniture alike beneath frayed, hanging curtains, all bathed in the soft glow of white lumafly lamps, and shrouded in drifting motes of dust. Plenty of empty chairs, and a few still occupied with the empty husks of former scholars, could be found, but Nadia’s keen eyes spotted no enemies. The echoes in this place never seemed to fade away completely; instead a slight noise remained, like distant whispers, and the feral swore she could hear the faint music of an organ a long way off. She inhaled deeply and moved in, on the hunt for stairs. Their contact awaited at the very top of this place, and according to his letter, there would be ‘wretched things’ on the way.

After reaching the third floor, the Seekers found them. As they moved through what looked more and more like a creepy research laboratory, the whispers had grown almost imperceptibly louder, and with them came a sort of scratching. Moving silently, Nadia tried to pinpoint the source, but it seemed to be coming from the walls. Finally, as the team approached the stairs, something came. Some [i]things[/i]. Shapeless, wriggling, [url=https://i.imgur.com/J4U0yeB.png]they[/url] oozed from the faucets and bubbled up from the drains. [url=https://i.imgur.com/oaX9HvY.png]Others[/url] squeezed out of vents and cupboards, floating through the air like balloons. All made a beeline for the nearest Seekers, gasping and hungry for them. For their souls.

“Yeesh.” Nadia cleaved through a hovering Folly with her box cutter and popped it like a bubble, then clawed away at sluggish Mistake and watched it ooze into the floor. In just a few moments, a couple more rose to take their place. It wouldn’t do the Seekers any good to linger here, so they kept climbing, fending off the bodiless, soul-starved apparitions as they went. The higher they climbed, however, the more they found. Soon, they stumbled upon the Soul Sanctum’s former [url=https://i.imgur.com/giS7tah.png]patients[/url], pale gangly creatures in hospital gowns, their heads bound in swollen, bulbous bags and their bodies in restraining belts and straps, some to the extent that they could only locomote by wriggling along the ground like horrific inchworms. “You’ve gotta be kitten me.” Nadia quickly found that these were much more violent -and strong- than the Mistakes and Follies that preceded them. Some assaulted her with metal IV stands, and a few sprouted tentacles from their sacks to grasp and pierce. Their brutish attacks forced her to take them much more seriously, and after taking a few heavy blows she resorted to overwhelming them with pressure and comboing them to death whenever she could get one alone, and running when she could not.

At one point, having fled from a pair of patients, she rounded a corner at the top of a flight of stairs and found herself faced by a fearsome monstrosity of white fur on ten pawed legs, its face an empty hole dripping tar-like fluid. Her hair rose and her tail went rigid at the sight of the [url=https://i.imgur.com/tcSPIte.png]amalagamate horror[/url] blocking the way, just one of [url=https://i.ytimg.com/vi/RlCymXZhOIs/hqdefault.jpg]many[/url] that could be encountered from here on out, and with a fang-toothed grin Nadia white-knuckle gripped both box cutters. “Down, boy,” she snarked. “I like dogs, but if you’re gonna bark up the wrong tree, I’ll teach ya to play dead.”

Endogeny just tilted its head, its orifice watching her intently. It smelled like a bunch of dogs. Freaky and dangerous as it looked, the abomination’s body language displayed no overt hostility as far as Nadia could see. “Hmm.” She relaxed her sword arm a little to see if it would provoke a reaction, and noted how the monster’s gaze followed her weapon. “Huh. Ya want this? …Fetch?” Unbelievable as that sounded, the amalgamate convulsed excitedly at the word. [i]Am I really gonna do this?[/i] Nadia could hear the cries of the patients in the distance, growing closer. She lifted her box cutter to hurl down a dead-end corridor. [i]Here goes nothing.[/i]

[center][h3]Edinburgh MagicaPolis - Stricken Supermarket[/h3]
Level 8 Big Band (68/80)
Ace Cadet’s [@Yankee], Frisk’s [@Majoras End], Red’s [@TruthHurts22]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 2418[/center]

In the heat of the moment, Frisk chose to act at a dangerous time. Albedo’s frantic efforts to stop Nightingale discharging his firearms had already resulted in spilled blood, and the former child wasn’t going to let her friend lose any more, no matter the cost. As Nightingale went for his handgun, keen to finish off what he started lest the alchemist’s Cinnabar Spindle spell his own end, Frisk seized his shotgun and took aim. Experience and training meant little in a situation like this; the business end of that barrel was a deadly guarantee the moment she leveled it at him. She had him dead to rights, and though he’d managed to lay hands on his pistol, he knew he’d already lost. He loosened his grip on it as he went to hold up his hands. “Wait-!”

Frisk didn’t wait. She’d grabbed the shotgun with only one course of action in mind, her decision made in an instant and without hesitation, irrespective of the consequences. The shotgun’s blast resounded through the derelict supermarket once more, close enough to Albedo and especially Frisk to be deafening, and it kicked like a mule. In fact, it was the strength of the weapon’s recoil that made a crucial difference. It flew from Frisk’s inexpert grasp, deviated just enough that the shot wasn’t fatal. Still, it might have been better if it were. Nightingale hit the ground with a howl of pain, an awful wound punched into the flesh and bone of his left side. Writhing in agony and with a face contorted by pain, he kept up a hideous uproar as he tried in vain to staunch the bleeding. He wasn’t dead, but he was dying, and it would be neither a quick nor merciful end.

A moment later, Red’s new gun unleashed its luminous pink rays, but before the four meant for Nightingale could strike him the yellow flashes of a dancing blade intercepted them.

Breathing heavily, Albedo relaxed his sword arm, then limped over. He reached out his sword’s point and slid the handgun across the floor away from Nightingale, then approached the man himself. His features, cool and impassive despite the injury he’d endured from that shotgun as well, betrayed none of his intentions, but any onlooker could guess well enough. Or maybe not. After stopping at Nightingale’s side, Albedo dismissed his sword, and tapped his chest to produce a friend heart in the manner Linkle taught him. He dropped it on the dying man and took away his pain, restoring him to his original state in an instant. Glistening with sweat and wide-eyed from shock, the former FBI agent stared up at Albedo in bewilderment, the question of why he would not just spare him but heal him written clearly on his face.

“Please don’t come after us again,” Albedo told him evenly. “I’d rather not hurt people.”

Nightingale glanced at his guns where they fell, but only for a brief moment. His face betrayed a mixture of gratitude and shame as he gingerly stood to his feet, then turned and clumsily ran, stumbling out of the shattered storefront and off into Edinburgh’s streets in search of a bar. Whoever these people were, theirs were not the faces that tormented him in his nightmares. He remembered now that there were far greater and more terrifying things out there, and compared to them the orders of Chief Irons mattered as much as dust in the wind.

Rather than watch Nightingale go, Albedo glanced at Frisk, his expression cloudy. Though glad that she interfered to protect him, he couldn’t say he liked her willingness to take a life when the threat might have been enough. With the others’ fights still in progress he couldn’t spend a lot of time on this, but he managed to say one thing as he took his sword in hand again before turning his attention elsewhere. “Common though they may be, I find that human lives are more valuable than either gold or silver, and all the more pitifully wasted.”

Meanwhile, the fight between Big Band and Stryker had taken to the street outside. Super-Sonic Jazz ended with a backflip spin as the giant french horn stowed away, launching the cruel cop high into the air. Rather than try and follow up, though, Band elected to stack the odds even further. He deployed his bagpipes and played a quick tune in the moment afforded to him, just enough to activate Bagpipe Blues. Stryker regained his feet, still able and happy to fight. He was red with anger from the wounds inflicted on his pride, especially thanks to what looked like a taunt, and he moved in with his baton at the ready to tear Big Band a new one. He rained down a brutal series of combination blows with punches, kicks, and strikes from his weapons, mixing up low and high attacks to catch Band off guard. The pressure was on, and Stryker managed to land a few hits, but his opponent toughed it out while biding his time.

Then he struck back, using the armor from Bagpipe Blues to shrug off an overhead baton slam from Stryker and wallop him with a massive [url=https://i.imgur.com/RMVLq3M.png]Air Mail Special[/url], leading right into combo. He jumped up after the launched policeman and struck with Bass Blast sound jets from the keys on his side, then a dropkick that bounced Stryker off the wall on the far side of the street. He landed on his back but bounced to his feet again in a burst of sound in time to catch Stryker low with his Glissando double trombone thrust. The next moment the cop found himself caught in the pincer of Band’s [url=https://i.imgur.com/WCZOZqK.png]giant tambourine[/url], jingled violently back and forth as the detective extended the beat. Suspended by Band’s Sound Stun, Stryker couldn’t escape as his foe jumped up to deliver an airborne Jelly Roll tambourine spin, and the good times kept on rolling from there. Band brought his enemy up, down, and up again in an instrumental assault of clarinet thrusts, trombone blows, and even the ring-a-ling of a musical triangle.

At one point Stryker thought the combo came to an end, only to immediately fall prey to a devious reset, and the train got rolling once again. The one-sided beatdown finally came to an end when Band deployed a ring of drum rockets around him, mechanical arms tipped with mallets extended to lay down the law. “Tympany…Drive!” He hammered both Stryker and the drums, which released blasts of sound downward with every beat to propel both officers higher and higher into the air. Just when Stryker seemed about to slip free, Band finished his performance by snapping shut the halves of a giant brass bell on his foe directly beneath him. “Consider yourself tolled!” With that, he [url=https://i.imgur.com/GhyXKWF.png]smashed down[/url] two enormous ringers hard enough to crack the bell. People for miles could hear the clamor of his Death Toll, but nobody quite so acutely as Stryker.

After the two fell to earth, the cop somehow managed to get up again, but he clearly wasn’t all there. He teetered back and forth woozily, barely able to stand. While Band knew he could do just about anything he might want at this point, he settled for a singular [url=https://i.imgur.com/KcV6emG.png]honk[/url] from a tiny horn in Stryker’s face, and the man dropped like a sack of flour, unconscious. “Huh.” The detective shook his head, almost disappointed with how easy that turned out to be. “Squeezed ‘em like a tuba toothpaste. Guess we were just playin’ different games.” With the face-off concluded, he regrouped with Albedo, Red, Ace, Frisk, and Lucia, who’d been hiding with Sienna in the back both to hide the fact that she’d defected from the police force and as a last line of defense. Ace had disposed of the robots, and there was no sign of Nightingale. “Let’s get movin’ before reinforcements show up,” Band told the team. “Chances are they know where we are.”

Albedo nodded, taking point along with Lucia. Using his alchemy and some medicinal plants kept in his Inventory, he’d managed to treat his leg well enough to move. “The hideout isn’t too far.”

[hider=Results][b]Party:[/b] Big Band, Ace Cadet, Wonder Red, Frisk
[b]Encounter Reward:[/b] +10 EXP
[b]Didn’t Miss a Beat Bonus:[/b] Big Band, Ace Cadet, Wonder Red
[b]Didn’t Miss a Beat Reward:[/b] +5 EXP[/hider]

[hr]

From the word ‘hideout’ Band half-expected some dark, secluded hole in the wall so mean and small that nobody in their right mind would look there, but that turned out not to be the case. In fact, Albedo and Frisk had managed to procure rather pleasant accommodations since arriving in Edinburgh. Overlooking one of the frigid city’s many canals stood a restaurant called Grammeowster’s Kitchen, where a kindly [url=https://i.imgur.com/JkMznKJ.jpg]old cat[/url] and her cohort of friendly felynes worked to supply her customers with warm food, a cozy atmosphere, and all the comforts of home. It was neither the biggest or busiest hole in the wall, but both its owner and her home-cooking were beloved fixtures of the local community that stood the test of time. In exchange for a little help from Albedo and Frisk during the evenings, as well as the handy bonus of ingredients synthesized via alchemy, Grammeowster allowed the two to stay in her own [url=https://i.imgur.com/RWqtM9E.png]abode[/url] on the second (and third) floors. Left empty except for her ever since her own children went off to start their own families long ago, it had been an empty nest that Grammeowster seemed happy to have occupied once more, and she didn’t mind her guests bringing friends, either. Everyone could pile inside as sirens blared in the distance, head through the restaurant, and climb up to the spacious room to rest.

“Oof.” After laying Sienna down on the bed, Band let out a deep breath as he seated himself by the fireplace, not trusting the carpentry of what were practically antique couches and stools to hold his weight. What an afternoon it had been. With the sole exception of the All Round Spheal Show, it had been nothing but trouble the minute he, Red, and Ace set foot here. Running afoul of the EMPD’s deplorable head honcho had been bad enough to begin with, and despite the clear victory over Irons’ pursuit squad back at the supermarket, Band knew that his troubles with Edinburgh’s finest were far from over. Then there had been the whole matter with that six-winged demon in the Noumenon library, which literally happened out of the blue. Their only possible answers about that lay with Sienna, but she had yet to awaken. It would be a little bit longer before they came to light, and a lot longer before his conclusions about the Skullgirl did. Rather than state outright his intentions to kill the girl that had been Albedo and Frisk’s friend, Band figured he’d let them see for themselves come nightfall. Before anything else regarding the Consuls, he needed to find this Linkle and put her down. The Skullgirl was a walking calamity, her very existence a countdown to the end of the world, and come what may Band couldn’t allow her to go free.

Until then, at least, he and the others could try to relax. It was about five o’clock, with a couple hours until dark, during which time they shouldn’t go out in public again. Tantalizing smells already wafted up from Grammeowster’s Kitchen downstairs, her mouth-watering roasts and stews drawing customers from far and wide. She and her felyne helpers would probably need a hand down there, but given his sheer size alone Band wasn’t suited to such work. He waited until Sienna finally stirred, trying not to loom over for her as she blinked awake, holding her head.

“Easy, now,” he told her, his voice soft. “We’re in a safe place. You okay?”

Sienna scooted backward, propping herself up against the pillows and backboard. “I…I think so.”

“Good.” Band hesitated for a moment. “I don’t mean to grill you right off the bat, but…we pulled you outta some demon-lookin’ thing that attacked us in the library. Nearly wiped us out before Ace turned the tables. Don’t suppose you could tell us what happened? Anythin’ you remember?”

The girl narrowed her eyes, her brows scrunched together. “I…well, I’m not sure exactly what happened. I was driving along with the Spheals, heading back to base. I think I glanced back to make sure everyone was okay, and when I looked at the road again, there was a man standing right in front of me. I hit the breaks, of course, and managed to stop before hitting him. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” She took a deep breath, running her hand through her hair. “I’d never seen him before in person, but I realized who it was ‘cause of his armor. It was Consul N. I was confused, of course. When he came around I rolled down the window, apologizing like crazy for almost hitting him. He didn’t seem mad, but…he was acting kind of funny. He started asking me about you guys, and where you were.”

Her face took on an apologetic look. “Um…I’m sorry, but you’re supposed to do what a Consul says, so I told him what I heard from you guys about going to the library. I asked him what he wanted with you, but he didn’t really answer. Just started muttering to himself. Then all of a sudden he asks for my help, and, y’know, I said ‘sure’. He goes ‘I always wanted to try this’ and reached in and grabbed me! He pulled me right out the window, slammed me against the car, and…I-I’m not sure what he did, but it hurt really bad, and…I blacked out.” She seemed scared and angry at the same time. “W-what the hell was all that?”

Band shook his head. “Sorry, I got no idea. Some kind o’ magic, or mad science, or somethin’. This guy musta been tryin’ to use you to get at us.” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m awful sorry you got caught up in all this. It’s not your fault. These Consuls are real scumbags, and now it sounds like we’re dealin’ with two of ‘em.” At least it didn’t seem like N cared enough to be any more thorough with his little gambit. But if he could and would do something like that to an innocent person, things in Edinburgh were only going to get even more complicated from here on out.