[center][h3]Esaka, the Tiered City[/h3]
[b]Setting:[/b] Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (233/150) Level 11 Big Band (140/110)
Amaterasu’s [@DracoLunaris] Roland’s [@Archmage MC] Pit’s [@Yankee] Sakura & Juri’s [@Zoey Boey] Captain Falcon’s [@Double] Yayama’s [@Chevaleresse] Grima’s [@Goggy]
[b]Word Count:[/b] 1082[/center]

At long last, Big Band had reached Gold Team’s chosen meetup spot for the evening of the first day of pools, alongside the weathered warrior Yayama Yama. The two found Pit and Sakura waiting outside, accompanied by Bowser Jr, Rika, and Therion, who’d all evidently made their way back to Esaka independently of the lalafell they’d braved the bamboo forest with. That wasn’t everyone on the Forbidden Kingdom contingent’s roster, far from it, but it was enough for the hostess to beckon everyone inside to be seated.

Grateful that there was no conventionally-sized doorway he needed to carefully wedge himself through to not cause damage, Band stepped inside, pushing through the hanging cloth gingerly. Once in he was greeted by the sight of a bustling, lively chanko restaurant, full of sumo iconography from the decked out walls to the elevated dohyō that dominated the floorplan’s center, complete with regulation-size ring of rice-straw bales fifteen feet in diameter atop a platform of hard-packed clay covered by sand. Sumo wrestling was completely foreign to Band, so he could only imagine what kind of combat went down in such an arena. With how close many of the tables were to this elaborate centerpiece, he had to hope that the sand didn’t get kicked up too easily.

That wasn’t the only problem presented by these tables, though. At first glance Band thought that they were simply situated very low to the ground, with mats to sit on rather than chairs, which would have been bad enough. On closer inspection, though, the gumshoe discerned that the tables were actually recessed into the floor, with the customers’ legroom technically underground. “Uh oh,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. Even if he folded in his legs and lowered his bell-shaped body all the way to the ground and sat there like a gigantic salt shaker, he’d loom so far above the table that his smaller mechanical arms might not be able to reach it, no matter how ridiculously huge the sizzling clay hotpots here were.

Ben Birdland wasn’t a complainer, though, and if the restaurant didn’t mind him being here he’d try to make it work. As it happened, Chanko House Edomon catered to huge men all the time, with some of the clientele so bulky that they couldn’t fit at their special tables either. After directing the Seekers to their extra-long table, the obliging hostess brought out a small table with a stool sturdy enough to support Big Band’s immense weight. Very grateful, the cyborg seated himself next to the others, close enough that he could still join in the conversation.

More Seekers, including those who’d spent most of the day fighting and those who’d undertaken the United Nation’s missions, arrived bit by bit. Heroes placed their orders, and one by one the bubbling hotpots of seafood, meat, and veggie stew arrived. There were a couple interesting additions to the group in the form of two teenagers, both golden-haired and impeccably dressed, who showed up alongside Captain Falcon. Anyone as observant as Big Band could tell at a glance that these were no ordinary kids thanks to the lack of Galeem’s sunset-red light in their eyes, which would’ve been especially apparent now that the real sunset had finished. The two Lost Numbers introduced themselves (in perfect sync, no less) as Bartholomew and Marguerite Bogard, a name instantly familiar to everyone here. In fact, they were the paternal grandchildren of a previous Terry, one who predated the one some Seekers met at Smash City Alcamoth by several cycles, and they'd braved the surface world in the hopes of meeting the newest incarnation of their forebear.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that would be easier said than done. Terry himself was curiously absent from the gathering, and neither of his King of Fighters teammates had the slightest idea where the Hungry Wolf had gone. Harry, Kim, and Zenkichi didn’t show up either, reducing the number of detectives on the team to one, and they also failed to answer Pit’s attempt to contact them.

These absences, and especially their radio silence, worried Band a great deal. The Seekers’ enemies had already tried to take them out once, and in spectacular fashion. Maybe when that didn’t work, G-Corp’s operatives (or worse, the agents of Moebius) had resorted to picking them off one by one. With them gone, and Juri still truant, Gold Team was down to [i]seven[/i] active members. Roland might be the only finger the Seekers still had in the Tekken pie, and how they’d continue to compete in King of Fighters with only two fighters had become a burning question. Funnily enough, Ms Fortune of all people seemed to be the easiest lost member to find, as Captain Falcon reported seeing her before he picked up the twins. At least the heroes still had a strong presence in World Warrior and Mortal Kombat.

After all the tabulating and speculating, the main objective of tonight’s gathering was ultimately to provide a status update. When his turn came around, Band did his due diligence. “Fought four matches today,” he began clinically. “Rasputin, annoyin’ wizard type, two-zero. Rhajang, roided-out tiger, two-zero. Chel, peppy robot lady, two-one. Balrog, dirty boxer with a mean strike a mile wide, two-zero.” He let out a long sigh. “So, still in Winners’ side. I did get a couple new upgrades under my belt, but I’m beat. Gonna rest up and do the best I can tomorrow.”

Once his hotpot arrived, a far littler portion than the average sumo wrestler might consume, Band took a moment to savor the smell. Then he carefully manipulated one spindly mechanical arm to ladle stew into a smaller bowl held by another. It was a tasty, very hearty dish, nothing too special, but an excellent meal nonetheless. As he ate, Band idly watched the restaurant workers in Edomon’s delivery section while listening to the others’ reports. Sumo wrestlers all, they took their to-go parcels in insulated backpacks, then climbed up a flight up stairs to the restaurant’s second story, which consisted solely of an outdoor balcony. Then each wrestler launched himself off the balcony in a [url=https://i.imgur.com/98CWncT.png]Sumo Headbutt[/url], soaring through the air as straight as an arrow. It was a bizarre method, but if it worked, who was Band to argue? It took substantial effort for him to tear his attention away and fix it where it ought to be: on the words of his fellow Seekers.

Meanwhile, a certain someone kept tabs on the team from a nearby spot, not so close that she could spy on them or listen in, but close enough that she’d know when the Seekers of Light left. Nadia’s disguise wasn’t good enough that she could get any closer without being recognized, especially now that Falcon had identified her (with frustrating ease, as well). That made her particularly sad because the aromas wafting out of the restaurant were pretty incredible. The smell of chanko stew made Nadia hungry enough to reconsider her plan of finding some high-class eatery to splurge in later, but for once in her life the feral fought off the temptation. Instead Nadia tried to relax at a table outside a [url=https://culturedvultures.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/CVS-2-London-FI-1.jpg]pub[/url] across the street, her furry tail flicking idly as she people-watched.

…Why was she doing this, again? It mostly just felt right. Why separate from the group and go into hiding to begin with, if not to watch mysteriously from afar? Plus, she wanted to see how the twins situation would develop. That could be interesting.

[center][h3]The Midnight Walk - Glacial Strata[/h3]
[b]Setting:[/b] Murky Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (39/70)
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] 1688

[b][url=https://i.imgur.com/p76VSWM.png]Nameless Stagecoach[/url][/b]
𖥞: 5/8 | 🛡️: 3/8 | [color=blue]◆◆[/color]◆◆ | [b]Equipment:[/b] Stewpot/Vegetubes/Icebox[/center]

Adrenaline inspired by the very real danger that now confronted the Seekers coursed through Heismay’s veins, banishing whatever bleariness the light sleeper might have felt at the conclusion of a fitful night’s rest. He’d stalled some of the glyphids for a moment by taking the fight to them, but the half-dozen kills he’d speedily racked up were but drops of water in a lake of skittering, screeching alien arachnids.

Completely disorganized and taken off guard by the sudden and terrifying fall, his allies were desperately trying to put together a defensive line so that the heroes could watch one another’s backs, to middling success. Heismay joined their efforts, putting his back to the damaged but mercifully intact stagecoach, but after a few frantic moments of nonstop combat the eugief was forced to rethink his strategy. His fighting style required a lot of room to maneuver, and against such a massive horde, there was nowhere to dodge or leap to where there wouldn’t be more bugs just waiting to sink their teeth in. Moreover, all his attacks and abilities were single-target, specialized for precise critical damage. He could dispatch a glyphid quickly, but not quickly enough to stem the tide washing over him if he stood his ground, and just swinging his blade in wide arcs practically guaranteed it’d get stuck in the carapace of a bulkier glyphid guard.

All this he figured out in mere moments, leading Heismay to make a necessary decision. “...Good luck!” He flipped onto the stagecoach, took his longsaber’s hilt in his mouth, then leaped into the air and stretched out his wings to glide over the hoard. Bugs clambered atop one another to snap at him, streams of frost billowed upward from frigid Praetorians, and salvos of corrosive acid shot down from a Glyphid Menace, but he nimbly swooped and swerved to avoid the attacks until he could land on a cryogenic bulb.

The strange plant wobbled beneath his weight, the pressure within its bulb palpable through its strained skin. A number of glyphids quickly turned to pursue him, but for a moment Heismay got a chance to look back toward where most of his allies were making their stand. The first and most encouraging thing he noticed was that the tide of glyphids wasn’t as infinite as it first looked; their numbers were great, but they did not blanket every inch of the cave’s snowy floor and walls. Instead reinforcements streamed in from a few specific directions, so the horde would thin out sooner or later as long as everyone kept fighting, and especially if those routes could be sealed off as Ramattra guessed.

As for the others, it looked like they were managing. Those who relied on powers, like Mokou and Sectonia, needed little preparation to begin raining destruction on the team’s insectoid assailants. Others collected themselves and fought back admirably, trying to control the chaos with their weaponry. Once the Seekers established a perimeter, the main threats would probably be the special bugs wielding more dangerous abilities. In the middle of the mess lay the stagecoach, still in one piece despite taking some damage from the fall thanks to its massive weight. The exterior furnishings, like the lightning rods, windchime, and lamps, were all destroyed, and the dangling cage had been busted open, allowing the ratshaker rat to run free and scream to his little heart’s content.

Of course, thanks to his tactical reposition, Heismay was on his own right now. When a couple dozen glyphids and two Praetorians converged on his frost bulb, this became a reality he could no longer ignore. Heismay figured he could trust the others to pull through while he saved his own skin. As bugs surrounded him, the eugief leaped into the air again. “Very well then.” In midair he transformed, becoming his Gunner archetype. “Have at you!”

He fired a well-aimed shot downward at the bulb, popping it like an override tomato. In an instant the cryogenic gas within surged outward, flash-freezing the mob of glyphids. “Aha!” Quickly reverting, Heismay spread his wings again and glided toward a Praetorian. It spread its fanged maw wide and let loose a torrent of icy gas, but it couldn’t crane its head high enough to keep up as the hermit flew closer, then descended in the form of the Assassin to stomp on the monster from above. His curved greatsword failed to fully penetrate the armor atop its luminous abdomen, but as the Praetorian roared in pain with its legs splayed out by the impact, he gripped the chitin plating with one metal hand and methodically peeled it. A moment later he could shove in his blade and use his archetype’s weight as the leverage needed to lop the big bug in half.

Freezing fumes began to spill out of its body, but Heismay was on the move. He smashed through frozen glyphid grunts as he circled around the other Praetorian, only mostly outpacing its frost spray. Unfrozen glyphids harried him on the way, including a slasher that scored a nasty hit on Heismay’s right thigh, but they were few enough in number that he could fight them off or even springboard off their backs. Unfortunately this Praetorian kept turning to protect its backside, so Heismay had a harder time. Relying on the cold to numb his wound, he settled for slicing at the creature’s unarmored leg joints. One severed leg at a time he reduced the Praetorian’s movement until he could hack away at its weak spot as he pleased, with plenty of time to deal with any grunts that scuttled up for a sucker punch.

After mortally wounding the second Praetorian, Heismay kept moving to keep one step ahead of the horde. Though the bugs were mostly focused on his comrades, they’d quickly get wise to the flanker’s act if he fought in any one spot for too long. Quick on his feet, and leery of facing too many foes at once, Heismay made sure that didn’t happen. When he happened to sneak a peak back at the main force of Seekers, they seemed to be doing well, just as he assumed they would. Many commanded terrifying destructive abilities, enough that their main challenge wasn’t so much annihilating their enemies as not hitting their allies. It seemed like the biggest danger, that being the bugs’ initial assault, had passed. Still, anyone who got too complacent could easily get gunked up by a Mactera Frost Bomber, severed by a Terminid Hunter, or worse.

In skirting around the edges of the conflict, the sharp-eyed Heismay both tried to get a sense of the huge cavern’s layout and also hopefully find a means of egress. More often he found side tunnels just big enough to admit more bugs, and lacking any way to close them, he gave them a wide berth. Stragglers he could dispatch easily, but nobody needed more hordes of these things. Both of the main breeds of bugs infesting this place seemed to be strong diggers, leading him to wonder if the expedition had been undermined while they spent the night in that cave.

Heismay found more interesting things during his round trip than digging bugs, though. In a dark recess of the massive cavern, he spotted a [url=https://i.imgur.com/lBk1skK.png]strange figure[/url] lurking in a makeshift camp. At first he thought it was a human, and he almost called out to him, but when he caught a better glimpse of its face in the golden glow of the greatsword in its hand, his hails froze in his throat. It bore a monstrous, almost leonine face, a mane of wild red hair, and a withered, wiry body naked but for tufts of similar fur. Most oddly, two rudimentary and vestigial wings protruded from its waist, much too small for flight. Though that sword in its grasp glimmered with the tantalizing allure of a legendary artifact, Heismay held his tongue and resolved to return with more allies, if the opportunity arose.

He also found a weird structure that didn’t seem to belong here at all: a [url=https://i.imgur.com/sQcKLU9.png]concrete bunker[/url] with strips of weathered yellow paint, built into the floor with a dug-out depression to provide access. Once Heismay sliced up the terminids loitering in the area, curiosity compelled him to troop down and push the button on one side of the heavy metal door, but after a couple seconds it blinked red. So did another button obscured by ice on the opposite side, which suggested to him that both would need to be pressed together. Unfortunately, he had no way to melt or break through the ice in the way, so this was also something that would need at least one more warm body.

Finally, Heismay stumbled upon some [url=https://i.imgur.com/TnzRY26.png]heavy-duty machinery[/url] with tank treads and an enormous drill, the serious damage visible all across its frame courtesy of the pests that called this place home. The eugief hadn’t a clue about how to make it work, let alone operate it, but that drill on the front looked like it could make mincemeat of bugs and solid rock alike. The only problem was the Frosty Bulborb in the area, a creature that would have looked comical if not for its imposing size. All monsters had a weakness, though, and the bulborb’s impressive bulk seemed to be held up by rather spindly legs. If he could sever one or both, or at least some important muscles, Heismay reasoned he could gain the upper hand.

When he moved to enact his plan with a surprise attack, though, Heismay ran into an immediate problem. The Mudo he flung as the Assassin did its job of catching the beast off-guard, but when he ran in for a deep cut, the mere act of touching the bulborb froze Heismay solid. [i]Oh no,[/i] he would have said, if he could move his mouth. Without a moment’s delay, the bulborb reached down to grab the frozen treat and swallow him whole. 

Meanwhile, the Seekers were making their own discoveries. For one, once the horde thinned a good bit, Layton happened to run into a [url=https://i.imgur.com/Qnzjiit.png]strange, present-shaped ice cube[/url] sitting in the snow, with a real present (complete with white wrapping paper and red bow) frozen inside. In the powder beside it lay a little card, and when opened the professor could read a mischievous gift-giver’s birthday wishes, alongside the hint that five one hundred and fifty milliliter cups of hot water could be used to melt thirty grams of ice. Someone as astute as the professor could eyeball that the ice block weighed about two kilograms, so if he had the time to spare from bug-wrangling, it was up to Layton to determine how best to thaw out the glacial gift.

What Mokou discovered, though, was a lot less pleasant. When she opened Sandalphon’s sleeping bag she found the Seekers’ leader crusted over with some kind of stony growth, studded with crystals reminiscent of low-quality lapis lazuli. This was no mere coating, either, as experimentation would prove that it seemed to be part of her body. Since there was nothing but soft snow that could have struck her head to render her unconscious on impact, this affliction probably had something to do with her state. It seemed likely she’d need some sort of treatment before she could regain her senses.