[center][h3]Esaka, the Tiered City[/h3]
[b]Setting:[/b] Clear Thursday Afternoon
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (220/150) Level 11 Big Band (128/110)
Amaterasu’s [@DracoLunaris] Roland’s [@Archmage MC] Pit’s [@Yankee] Sakura & Juri’s [@Zoey Boey] Captain Falcon’s [@Double] Harry and Kim’s [@Eviledd1984] Terry’s [@Terry Bogard] Yayama’s [@Chevaleresse] Grima’s [@Goggy]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1396[/center]

Fast-paced, eye-catching matches continued to rage on all throughout the Pools tier, the stakes higher than ever now that over half of the tournaments’ total roster had fallen to the Losers’ Bracket if not completely eliminated, but right now Big Band couldn’t get distracted. Despite claiming victory, he felt beat after his last match, thanks in large part to the respirator tubes sliced through by that freakish tiger’s claws during his second bout. And unfortunately, he wasn’t done fighting for today just yet, with at least one more pools match in the cards before he could call it quits for the day. 

That was simply the price to pay for registering in the Tiered City’s most popular tournament; in retrospect, that decision seemed like a bad idea for him in particular. With over two hundred and fifty competitors to chew through before the top sixteen were decided, the World Warrior tournament demanded up to ten pools matches from its participants (over the course of two days, but still), compared to the three or four that faced King of Fighters or Mortal Kombat aspirants. And judging by the ambient chatter from the yokai and other spectators, this week’s tournament series was actually a slow one, with markedly less involvement than usual. Then again, even if the ‘kombatants’ looking to upstage Shao Khan had fewer fights to get through, any bout in that lethal league could be their last. Band was no stranger to putting his life on the line, but in his line of work a man only reached middle age if he knew how to pick his battles. Better to leave deadly duels to the likes of Ms Fortune, if the feral hadn’t flown the coop.

The bottom line was that the detective’s schedule permitted him only a small window in which he could try and get some much-needed repairs, so he had to hustle. Moving as quickly as he could given his large size, the man once known as Ben Birdland made a beeline for the nearest lift to Esaka’s Low Tier. He didn’t have the money with which he could solicit the services of even Mid-Tier engineers, after all, so he’d have to make do with some cut-rate craftsman. As a proud and somewhat old-fashioned fellow, Band didn’t consider the possibility of calling up a fellow Seeker or even home base aboard the Avenger for assistance, not when he considered himself more than capable of figuring things out on his own. He had yet to really open up to any of them, after all, even if he’d been getting along with Zenkichi so far. [i]What I wouldn’t do to have Peacock around right now,[/i] he thought to himself glumly. The little scamp was no end of trouble, but as one of the few older adults at Lab 8, he’d naturally assumed a quasi-parental role for all of the experimental children brought into the ASG program, and Peacock was no different. He wondered if she was still in the Metro, causing problems for the local Nyakuza or that meddling Consul N. With her zany powers and cadre of cartoon companions, Peacock could more than fend for herself, but Band would have liked to know she was okay.

Within a few minutes, Band reached the Low Tier. Compared to that morning it was a little less hectic around town. By now, plenty of Low Tier fighters -generally the least favored in every tournament- had been eliminated. For those brave (or foolhardy) enough to test their luck in Mortal Kombat, a number had no doubt been killed, but the prevailing mood seemed to be one of disappointment rather than horror. It was a chilling reminder to Band of the warped perspective most Esakans seemed to have on death. There were still a few hubs of activity here and there as spectators and yokai kept an eye on the few Low Tier fighters still in the running, but for the most part this tier seemed to be back to business as usual, the same as yesterday when the Seekers of Light first arrived. Band assumed that once the tournaments progressed to Saturday and especially Sunday, things could get more heated again, but for now he could focus on the task at hand.

The detective busied himself scouring the streets, hunting for any sign of a workshop where he could get fixed up. As he’d come to expect, the Low Tier was a bit of a mess. Inconsistent and poorly organized, it was the result of organic, haphazard growth over any kind of urban planning. Many buildings were so repeatedly repurposed that one could easily walk into what looked like a hair salon and find a laundromat, or see a two-story home converted into a hotpot restaurant. It didn’t help that whatever phenomenon translated Esakans’ speech didn’t apply to written words, and that no standardized language reigned down here as it did in the higher tiers. Band could read the signage of about one building in five. This made for slow going, and as the minutes flew by, his frustration began to mount.

That changed, whenever, when Band spotted an oddly familiar mop of spiky blonde hair while tramping through an outdoor market. It belonged to a [url=https://i.imgur.com/IUAUV18.png]boy[/url] of about fifteen years of age, with electric blue eyes, scars, and robotic limbs that featured distinctive copper coils. Band blinked, his eyebrows rising. He recognized the boy, not just as someone from his own world, but as someone he personally knew. “Leduc?” The kid was too far away to hear him and, judging by the bags on his arms, headed home with some fresh groceries. Of course, that begged the question of what the young man’s home was, since in Band’s experience there had only ever been one answer: Lab 8.

Band began to tail Leduc, following him from the market through the dingy, cluttered labyrinth of Esaka’s Low Tier. A massive cyborg like him wasn’t exactly subtle, especially when his labored breathing sounded like an industrial AC unit, but Band was no slouch when it came to doing his job. Leduc was by no means oblivious, though. From afar Band saw him put into practice the lessons that he himself had taught him, so it was only a matter of time before the boy spotted Band a ways behind him. For a moment he froze, not believing his eyes, but after a second or two he came running, carefully maneuvering around pedestrians. With a broad smile, Band headed his way, aided by the tendency of the average pedestrian to carefully maneuver away from him.

The two cyborgs met with a clang in the middle of a hazy street as Leduc tried (and failed) to wrap his metal arms around the detective’s bell-shaped chassis. “Ben!?” The boy exclaimed, uncommon joy spread across his face. “I can’t believe it’s really you. I thought we’d never see you again.”

“Been a while huh, kid?” Staring up at the sky as he extended spindly mechanical limbs to hug Leduc back, Band thanked his lucky stars that something in this insane, messed-up world had conspired to reunite the two misfits once more. “How you doin’? You out here on your own?”

Leduc shook his head. “No, there’s a bunch of us here. Hive, Stanley, Ileum, the littles…”

“Avian?” Band ventured tentatively.

“No…” Leduc seemed disappointed himself. “What about you? Have you seen Peacock?”

A pang of guilt stabbed at Band’s heart. “Er…yeah. We were together for a good long while, fightin’ side by side. She wanted to stick around in a town full of cats, though.” He paused. “Don’t you worry though, she’s in good hands. Or good paws, I guess,” he lied.

The boy seemed relieved. “That’s good to hear.” When he stepped back, though, he noticed the state of Band’s instruments, and concern spread over his face. “What happened to you? You okay?”

A wheezing chuckle escaped the detective. “It’s a long story. If Stanley’s around, though, I really oughta pay him a visit. Think you can lead the way?”

“Leave it to me.” With a nod of understanding, as serious and mature as ever, Leduc turned and jogged away. [i]Clonk, clonk, clonk, clonk.[/i] Big Band followed him, never imagining he’d be so eager to see that old shark again.

[center][h3]Esaka - Metropolitan Square[/h3]
Amaterasu’s [@DracoLunaris] Harry’s [@Eviledd1984] Terry’s [@Terry Bogard][/center]

As Harry filtered through the crowd, sowing unrest and dissatisfaction with Azucena and her shady backers, Amaterasu approached the polar bear. She found him highly disgruntled, and while he wasn’t happy about Es or the other Coffee Challenge participants who’d blown him off, the bulk of his dissatisfaction seemed to be directed toward Azucena. When the goddess gave him an inquisitive head tilt, the bear looked down at his fellow white-furred creature with a smile. Though of comparably human intelligence himself, he ironically didn’t seem to consider the possibility that Amaterasu was sentient as well, as he unabashedly spilled his guts.

“Hey there, wolfy. You’re a pretty one,” he complimented her, before slouching down and sighing with a mean look at Azucena. “Much prettier than her, both inside and out, I reckon. It’s just not fair, damn it. The company sponsorin’ that Azucena lady is downright crooked. First they set up a new shop right across from mine and undercut me. I’ve gotta make a living so I can’t lower my prices any, but they could take the hit if it meant stealin’ away my business. And when that wasn’t enough, the bastards went and bought out the buildin’ I’m leasin’ to run my shop in and jacked up my rates. Now I’m stuck sellin’ coffee outta my truck on the street corner, and just when customers are finally startin’ to find me again, guess where she decides to hold this stunt of hers?”

The bear hung his head, disconsolate. “It ain’t fair, man. Big companies just don’t play the same game us li’l guys do. At this point I’d be better off findin’ a zoo an pretendin’ I’m a dumb animal.” Rubbing his face with one massive paw, he held up the other placatingly. “Uh, no offense. Anyway, it looks like she’s got everyone eatin’ out of her hand. If I had half a chance, why, I’d stuff her in my truck and give her a nice vacation in Everdream Valley to get her damn priorities straight…”

At the same time, Azucena was playing the crowd, looking for more challengers to take her on. Terry didn’t seem to be in any hurry to challenge her, though, so with nothing else going on it was only a matter of time before she caught wind of Harry’s rabble-rousing. “Ay, cabrón!” she called out angrily, jumping down from her podium. “What’s the big idea, huh? I treat my employees like I treat my coffee: with all the tender love and care they deserve! If you’ve got something to say to me, why not let your fists do the talking, eh?” Although Harry seemed to have been making a little headway, the celebrity’s straightforward and larger-than-life manner seemed to be winning the crowd back.

With a winning smile, Azucena crossed her arms. “And I’ll have you know, even though we don’t make [i]kopi luwak[/i] in Peru, ‘cause we don’t have civets in South America, that coffee’s the most expensive in the whole world. A real delicacy! Not as good as the Azucena Blend, of course~” She winked.

[center][h3]Esaka - Opera House[/h3]
Roland’s [@Archmage MC] Captain Falcon’s [@Double] Kim’s [@Eviledd1984] Grima’s [@Goggy][/center]

Using a variety of means, from Kim’s guileful disguise to Roland’s anomalous equipment to Grima’s charismatic charade (plus sheer dumb luck), a handful of people who really had no business being there managed to infiltrate the opera house. At this point, with Chloe’s performance over a day away, it was still very much in the setup phase. It took a lot of legwork and elbow grease to convert a stage for classical performance into the venue for a pop star’s concert, after all. There were a number of both human and robotic staff members around, attending to various preparations, but overall the mood appeared to be pretty casual, neither too secure or too strict. If it had, Kim and Grima’s efforts probably wouldn’t have cut it. As things stood, though, Chloe’s staff seemed to reflect her own happy-go-lucky nature. Just from looking around, the only indicator of the pop star’s shady financiers was the scale of her upcoming performance.

The three infiltrators made their way throughout the structure, visiting different groups of workers. Getting any concrete information about Chloe herself, especially while remaining relatively inconspicuous, wasn’t exactly easy. The number one reason for this seemed to be Chloe herself, who seemed to be a rather whimsical and irresponsible person, troublesome even for her own staffers to keep tabs on. Most of the people here, when not concerned with their immediate tasks, seemed to be more focused on the tournaments. Some people were watching on their phones (whether or not they were currently on break) while others chatted with one another or yokai haunting the opera house, in keeping with the giant skeletal creature that occupied the main theater. As for Chloe’s whereabouts, most folks assumed that she was out somewhere in the High Tier taking a late lunch, but where was anyone’s guess.

About twenty minutes after the Seekers arrived, though, there was some commotion in the front lobby. A [url=https://i.imgur.com/xRiMeOx.png]tough-looking Brazillian[/url] with stylish dreadlocks and a leopard-print jacket made to leave, only to be stopped by a couple of Chloe’s security bots, headed by an [url=https://i.imgur.com/B0PE1uE.png]American[/url] in a black suit and gold jewelry. “This is bullshit!” Eddy exclaimed, venting his frustration. “It’s ridiculous that I’m stuck as a second-rate backup dancer for some ditzy little girl in the first place, all ‘cause she beat me one time. Capoeira isn’t just a dance; it’s a martial art, a cultural tradition! Not some cheap sideshow. And to demand my presence for her rehearsals, only to not show up all day…I’ve had it up to here!.” He scowled at the singer’s head of security, his scorn clear as day. “And to have you here standing in my way, ‘brother’. All that gold, and you’re still just a common sellout. Where is she!?”

“Back it up, Gordo,” Bruce snapped. “You ain’t no brother of mine, and I ain’t gotta tell you where Chloe is. She’s out to lunch, and that’s as good as you’re gettin’. If you don’t like this little arrangement you got goin’ on with G-Corp, maybe you shouldn’t-a gotten your ass whooped by a ditzy little girl to begin with. Now how ‘bout you scramble like an egg, ‘fore you get folded like an omelette?”

Eddy looked like he wanted to beat Bruce to a pulp there and then, but some unseen factor seemed to stay his hand. He turned away, swearing in Portuguese so vehemently that the Heavenly Principles didn’t even bother translating, and strode away to fume elsewhere.

[center][h3]Forbidden Kingdom - Bamboo Forest[/h3]
Bowser Jr and Rika’s [@DracoLunaris] Therion’s [@Yankee] Yayama’s [@Chevaleresse][/center]

As expected, Dolores’ geomancy alone wasn’t enough to halt the APC thanks to its heavy-duty treads. The shifting, softened earth did, however, slow it down enough to give her new allies a chance to spring their trap. With a whole host of different abilities under their belt, the Koopa Kids had just the tools for the job. The mitt of a massive mechanical Striker lifted one set of treads off the ground, which left the APC a sitting duck for the subterranean assault of Rika (metamorphosed into a giant centipede by her special cassette player) and her albino abyssal striker. Their combined strength, even though Junior’s iron shield just sank into the mud, was enough to tip the balance. Due to its rather broad weight distribution, the armored vehicle couldn’t really tip onto its side and stand on its axle, no more than a coin could stand on its side. Instead it tipped all the way over, completely upended, and slammed back into the sticky sediment upside-down, helpless as a flipped turtle.

“All right!” Darli Dagger’s boots hit the dirt as she hefted her oversized saw on her shoulder. Reconfiguring her weapon into an enormous drill, she sprinted forward toward the APC. “Time to crack this can open…huh?” Of course, the moment she got too close her boot sank into the soil softened by Dolores powers, stopping her in her tracks. “Oh, yeah. Dolores, hurry up and get the ground working again, will ya?”

The elegant lady looked annoyed, her measured irate expression suggesting a long line of similar interactions in the past. “Just give me a moment, it takes time to wring out the water content…”

“Ladies,” Anji chided jokingly. With a flourish of his fans, he summoned a cloud of radiant blue butterflies to ride upon and soared toward the APC. “Allow me.” After swooping down, he leapt from his butterflies, using the momentum to launch himself over the transport. At just the right moment he performed a spinning maneuver, buffeting the APC’s exposed underbelly with some sort of wind magic. On contact, the dark steel began to glow blue, and after a second it burst into a swarm of butterflies that scattered in all directions before dissipating. Anji landed behind the vehicle, just beyond the mud slick, and wiped a smudge of dirt from his abdominals with a polite smile. “There we are.”

Of course, mere seconds after he opened the APC, Jack units began to pour from within like clowns from a clown car. They climbed out, then launched themselves away from the stranded vehicle in a bizarre [url=https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/tekken/images/9/92/Giant_Foot_Stomp_TTT2_Jack.gif/revision/latest?cb=20211101215929&path-prefix=en]long jump[/url], making it all the way to solid ground. In total, there were fourteen Jack-5s in their camo cargo pants and green tank tops, but there also seemed to be two top-of-the-line [url=https://i.imgur.com/CVs3SdJ.png]Jack-8s[/url] in black tech armor with glowing red lines, which really amplified the bad-guy energy they gave off.

Darli whistled. “Hoo boy. Welp, time to earn my paycheck!”

Dolores slid to a stop alongside her, her expression severe. Even if somewhat outdated by today’s standard Jack-5s were by no means incompetent fighters, and Jack-8s were strong enough to fight -and win- in Esaka tournaments. If the Seekers and UN agents were going to take this, they’d need to work together. “Anji, get back here!”

“On my way.” As the gentleman hurried over, the sixteen robots sprinted straight toward their enemies, perfectly synchronized and very intimidating.

[center][h3]The Midnight Walk - Christmas Village[/h3]
[b]Setting:[/b] Wintry Thursday Evening
Lvl 9 Sandalphon (74/90) Level 7 Heismay (10/70)
Edward’s [@DracoLunaris] Blazermate & Sectonia’s [@Archmage MC] Ace Cadet’s [@Yankee] Roxas & Ganondorf’s [@Double] Ramattra and Tenna’s [@XoXKieroBombXoX] Mokou’s [@Goggy]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1512

[b][url=https://i.imgur.com/p76VSWM.png]Nameless Stagecoach[/url][/b]
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | [color=blue]◆[/color]◆◆◆ | [b]Equipment:[/b] Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | [b]Companion[/b]: Ratshaker Rat[/center]

By the time Heismay finished opening his gift, the aromas wafting over from the tables laden with food were too much to ignore, so the eugief shuffled over to find some grub. Dinner tonight was a buffet-style occasion, and with all of the various dishes spread across multiple tables arrayed around the communal bonfire where the giant Gammoth haunch spat and sizzled, there was never too much of a line for anything in particular. Only once he approached a table, plate in hand, did Heismay realize how hungry he really was. Without really noticing he’d subsisted off the spoonfuls and morsels he’d tasted while cooking in the kitchen early that afternoon, foregoing any actual lunch, so he was actually pretty famished.

Luckily, there was plenty for everyone. When he sliced off a length of freshly-seared Gammoth steak, medium-rare, the meat below it could begin to cook. He helped himself to some grilled vegetables, roasted chestnuts, fried fish, and of course, Benevolent Bread. Even if the flour here wasn’t quite the same as that of the grain belt in Euchronia, he’d remembered enough of his family recipe to achieve a loaf very similar to that of his hometown, and the result was sumptuous. When he first bit into a warm bun, he expected a light, airy, and sublimely fluffy loaf. He did not expect a wave of homesickness to inexplicably wash over him, almost bringing a tear to the old bat’s eye.

For a brief moment he was so choked up that he couldn’t even swallow the mouthful of bread, but after a couple seconds gulped it down, that strange and melancholy feeling subsiding with sniff. He did not always look back on his childhood as the ‘good old days’, especially with the wisdom and perspective brought by age, but still…it had been so, so long since he had a family. People to call his own, with whom he could share a wonderful occasion like this. Though surrounded by festive merriment, with joyful laughter and good feelings all around, in some ways Heismay felt more alone than ever. After losing everything, the notion that life had no more joy to offer had been a bitter pill to swallow, but he’d judged it to be for the best. Convincing himself of that had enabled him to while away his remaining days in solitude as he waited to die, tucked away in the sandworms’ lair. Of course, Will and the others had reminded him there were things worth fighting for, and in this world the Seekers filled the same role, but allies were not the same as friends. Would be ever grow close to anyone again? Could he, even?

Heismay had no idea. He looked down, not realizing that he’d unconsciously clutched the amulet hanging around his neck. He took a deep breath, downed a cupful of cider, and picked his fork back up to continue his meal. The meat, the vegetables, the fish, the bread…it was all very, very good. He watched with a smile on his face as some of the younger partiers attempted Flea Juggle, trying to keep increasing numbers of young fleas (protected by bells worn like hard hats) aloft at once. When Blazermate got a high score on Flea Dodge, Heismay clapped in appreciation.

On the other side of the fire, Sandalphon finished her own dinner alone as well, eating not too far from where Edward’s beasts were chowing down on pokepuffs. The process reminded her of the meals she’d shared with others over the past few days, mostly those in the Avenger’s mess hall and in Everdream Valley near Midgar. The ones she remembered best all had one thing in common: Zenkichi Hasegawa. Although she wasn’t fully equipped to understand it, Sandalphon knew that her bond with that man was something special. Becoming more human at heart had opened the door to wonderful things, but it also allowed her to experience a new, exquisite form of pain, arguably worse than the physical damage that her miraculous incantations could heal.

Being apart from him just as they’d begun to grow close hurt, of course, but it didn’t hold a candle to the knowledge that their bond was doomed to break, thanks to the archangel’s looming expiration date. Rather than spend her last week or two with Zenkichi and Akane, cherishing what little affection she’d managed to cultivate, here she was in a frozen wasteland. The Christmas Village was a welcome relief from monster-infested zoos and complexes, but having so much joy and warmth in proximity also reminded Sandalphon exactly what she lacked. That she was consciously cutting short what little time she had left, betting everything on a hare-brained scheme with precious little more to go on than faith. Every movement she made was a reminder of the grievous task she’d undertaken, a reminder that there was no going back now. Even with a full mug of hot cocoa in her gloved hand, her fingers still felt cold. When she drank it down, warmth flooded through her system, but was gone the next moment, like a misty breath in the wind.

Her relationships, this holiday…it all felt so futile. Destined for ruin. If she hadn’t become more human, would she still be hurting like this? “A heart,” she murmured. “Is nothing but pain.” Unfortunately, even trying to tell herself that her feelings didn’t matter felt futile.

When everyone had, by and large, finished eating dinner, desserts showed up to replace the entrees and side dishes. Peppermint bark, chocolate chip cookies, and fruit cakes appeared en masse to be enjoyed by the festival-goers, and perhaps galvanized into action by the ensuing sugar rush, the carolers went into overdrive. Dozens of voices joined together in song, filling the cold night air with riotous jollity. Even Heismay got caught up in the excitement, tentatively lending his underused voice to each chorus.

Eventually, Sandalphon lent her efforts as well, less out of good cheer and more out of obligation. Tonight’s goal was, after all, to dispel the blizzard that impeded the Seekers’ journey, and Maeve had not been specific about how the festival would accomplish this. As more and more voices united in festive harmony, however, Sandalphon began to observe a change in the obstructive snowstorm. When her team arrived, the blizzard had practically been a wall, a vertical cold front in motion but largely cohesive, like a calm sea. Now, though, its surface seemed turbulent, roiling and stirring as if all the Christmas carols were disturbing it.

[i]”Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, "Throw cares away"
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer
To young and old, meek and the bold

Ding-dong, ding-dong, that is their song
With joyful ring, all caroling
One seems to hear, words of good cheer
From ev'rywhere, filling the air…”[/i]

[b][color=#ADD8E6][h3]”ENOUGH!”[/h3][/color][/b]

A furious shout, louder even than Maeve’s voice when amplified by the rock soup, resounded over the village. A cold wind, also projected from the direction of the blizzard, seemed to accompany it, extinguishing candles and sending chills down spines. Though many festival-goers were frozen in silence, the more combat-capable Seekers went on high alert, Heismay reaching a hand to his longsaber’s blade while Sandalphon stood, summoning her gunstaff. All eyes followed the Midnight Walk northward from the village to the great longitudinal canyon as the blizzard abated, losing its supernatural speed and density as it weakened to the level of a regular snowstorm. Anticipating contact with some sort of enemy, Sandalphon cautiously approached, with Maeve fearfully but bravely following her.

As the protectors of the Christmas Village approached, a procession of [url=https://i.imgur.com/mSrmCtw.png]tall, skeletal soldiers[/url], sporting horned heads and lances of ice, appeared from the frigid haze, marching two by two out of the storm and across the stone bridge. After stepping onto the ground, their ranks split, half fanning out to the left and half fanning out to the right. They planted the shafts of their spears in the ground and stood motionless at attention. Above them, bulky Ty-Foos appeared as well, staring down at the festival-goers. Finally, at the very end of the procession, there emerged from the snowstorm…[url=https://i.imgur.com/WxLVFvU.png]a cat[/url].

It strode down the Midnight Walk toward Sandalphon and the others, then sat, glaring. “Who dares disturb me?” he demanded in an imperious, somewhat flamboyant British accent. [color=#ADD8E6]“And what’s all this…ruckus? Feasting? Singing? Without my say-so? Preposterous! I should devour you all here and now…but in my gracious mercy, I, the Ice King, will grant you peons a second chance…”[/color]

Absolute cold began to emanate from the cat, enough to freeze the air around him. After a moment, the ice shatter, and in its place stood a [url=https://i.imgur.com/UzEmiTn.png]saber-toothed tiger[/url] as tall as an elephant, crowned with a glowing pearly diadem and long horns. [color=#ADD8E6]”Love me…or die!”[/color]