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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Stekkmen
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Stekkmen Head shotted.

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Magnumus Agoston, Centurion.

Level 3 - (03/40) EXP (will level up and count letters later)
Location: Ancestral Farmland, Land of Adventure, back to Lumbridge
Word Count: 287




Centurion had tossed aside his gladius, the blade sticking out of the ground. Holding the tattered collar of an undead minion he smashed it's face in with his gaunlented fist over and over again. Exerting great effort each time, the head came away into pieces and the re-corpsed being fell to the ground and began to turn into some sort of strange crystal. Standing back, he prepared to leap away as it disintigrated harmlessly in front of his eyes. Suddenly, the Centurion was thinking a lot clearer, and he realised he had been on the verge of some kind of mental break.

"Oh, shit. Right. Did...did somebody call me a fuckwit?" For a brief moment the Centurion lost his usual gallant, educated form of speaking as he stumbled over to his gladius and picked it out of the ground and clanked it on his greeves. Clearing his throat he undid the straps of his helm and removed it, attaching the steel thing to his belt. Some of the others were celebrating and Agoston raised his fist in the air but then put his hands on his knees and breathed in deep. Coming up he cracked his back by twisting one way, and then the other, and then smiled brightly as he stared up at the stars.

"Well, apologies. I suppose that means we won. I may have gone too far in a few places..." he cracked his sore knuckles and wiped off a piece of ickor. "But...but, I think everything ultimately worked out for the best. Good work, everyone!" With that he shook his head, still trying to clear his thoughts, stepped inside his drill kart and followed the monster truck back to Lumbridge.
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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Dawnrider
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Dawnrider

Member Seen 7 mos ago



Level: 4 (24 -> 37 -> 39/40)
Location: Ancestral Farmstead
Word Count: 756 (+2 EXP)

Stress Level: 95


Nice! Hat Kid’s finishing blow drove some fragments of the Brachydios’ already fractured skull (courtesy of the Courier) with visibly explosive force that recoiled as colorful blowback almost twice as big as herself. This was her best result using this hat yet, and she was feeling rather proud of that, even if it didn’t immediately show. Though, it definitely added greatly to her striking power, it didn’t necessarily do the same for her constitution.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow…” she murmured silently to herself after sucking air through her teeth, gripping her sore hand at the base of her wrist. The delayed response came following her failed attempt to act cool and play off the pain as if there was none, but of course, this usually happened when she tried to hit things with her own hands. Suffice to say she hadn’t miraculously grown accustomed to it within the day, and she made the rookie mistake of assuming a little extra power would solve her durability problem. It would take her some getting used to before getting to grips with the new hat and its powers well enough to use them properly.

She stood among the drifting ashes where she sank through the creature’s dissipating form, wondering where the sun went as she beheld the returning night sky once more. This place was a little too loose and sporadic with its ether-borne day/night cycles for her liking. At least now it finally settled on something more normal with a neutral (read zero) effect on the psyche, and a soothing one on the spirit. With some exceptions, spirits seemed to be mostly high. One of the resident new guys passed around eager commendations to everyone on their part in helping him do his job, the bubbly as ever Linkle extended them to her own reflection, talking to it like she was going crazy (she probably was), Tora and Poppi dancing in celebration like no one could see them, all while the Koopa Troop cleaned the battlefield of leftover spirits for later divvying up. That was certainly for the best. They could all fight over what to keep later when they had the energy to spare for it. In the meantime, the child decided to blow off some of what she had left of hers by joining the dancing pair, jubilantly fist pumping and skipping up next to them--high fiving Linkle on the way over--and smoothly transitioning into her own dance, which she would continue to do until everyone started to load up for departure.




Rather than nodding off as some had opted to, Hat Kid took her seat leaning criss-crossed against the short tailgate so she could still get a decent view of the horizon and landscape during the ride back. She slowly, gently, idly rocked and swayed while contentedly stargazing until Linkle playing with her new cryokinetic powers caught her attention. She raised a hand for the heroine to toss her one of the toy ice constructs only to realize upon catching it was a mistake that was. It was freezing to the touch (Duh!), almost as if it would stick to her hand if she held onto it for much longer than a couple of seconds. She reactively, clumsily juggled the freshly made ice shape for a handful of passes between hands until she accidentally let it get away from her over the side, quickly righting herself to make sure she didn’t go with it.

She smiled looking at the trail of discarded crystal littering the fields behind them, her eyes trailing back to the stars, then to her shaky hand. It trembled not from playing hot potato with an icy sphere, or from having hurt it punching a dragon in the skull earlier, but it was due to the fact that her nerves were still shot from stress that she had yet to adequately relieve herself of. Realizing this, she nervously clutched her one hand still with the other, looking about to see if anyone else had noticed. Luckily, they were either asleep or otherwise preoccupied, so she was saved some embarrassment. She then retracted both hands into her sleeves and tucked them under her arms--both for appearances and out of legitimate need for warmth. Heavy stress and anxiety tended to bring on a chill in some. It was just another reason for her restlessness, besides simply not wanting to sleep yet… not until she found a proper place for it, where she could briefly journal the day’s experiences before laying her head down.
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Majoras End
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Majoras End Oyasumi~

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Level: 1
EXP 3/10
Word Count: 313
Current Location: Dead Zone, RCPD (Main Hall >> Library)



Even when he tried to appear fine, it was obvious Joker was shaken up, not to mention worn out. Maybe it was from his struggle against the Doctor, or that he actually had to kill an actual person for once, not change their heart like he was used to. The thief shook the thought out of his head. The thing he fought wasn't a person, far from it. Not wanting to make the captain worry, he explained to Howard what happened, and introduced the two survivors he rescued as well.

The thief decided to rest in the main hall for a while, to recollect his thoughts. He kept an eye on the civilians as they were brough to the hall as well.

Up until death decided to knock on their door. Literally.

Joker was proabably more surprised than the rest. Had one brush with death not been enough? Either way, he held onto his knife just in case. Luckily it was a false alarm, since one of the survivors (that apparently died??) was with the guy. The thief listened in to Howard debriefing Louis and Death on what was happening at the moment. Seemed most of the others were dealing with the ghost, but needed some backup, just in case.

Then they looked over to him.

"Hm?" The captain told Joker if he wanted to track the killer down instead, he could catch up with Ratchet and Blazermate. It was a hard choice. Maybe if he hurried, he could help with both?

The thief hurried off to the library, deciding to assist in the ritual first. And already things looked bad. Once he arrived, he had to quickly hide to avoid being seen by the Preta. THAT was the ghost?? Joker snuck over to the others, waiting for a way to assist them.

Besides being a distraction, that was already said and done.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by MULTI_MEDIA_MAN
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MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

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Geralt of Rivia

Ancestral Farmstead

Lvl 3 (12/30) -> Lvl 3 (28/30) -> Lvl 4 (0/40)

Word Count: 778 words

Stress Level: 10


Something changed just as the Courier's stimpak took effect on Geralt. It was...hard to describe. Something not unlike coming out of a magical trance, but without as much of the hangover half-blackout feeling. More like coming down from a light alcohol buzz. His mind felt sharper, and his body felt like it was his again. Hell of a drug. Almost like he mixed Swallow and Thunderbolt...speaking of which, I need that damned potion if I'm gonna be dealing with beasts like this! Geralt thought, completely unaware of the true reason he felt this way now. He'd probably learn soon enough, though.

Taking a deep breath as his body was mended and his mind unclouded, Geralt took a look around at the battlefield. So many spirits laying around, and so many fighters still standing. All of them, in fact. It was practically a miracle. Regular folk just didn't last around him in big fights like this, whether they were on his side or not. But then again, he hadn't left alongside many regular folk, had he? These people were fighters, killers, warriors, almost to the last one of 'em. Even the kids could fight like hell. It would have been unnerving had he not seen dozens of pimple-faced teens take to bandrity back on the Continent. Kids could fight. Usually not well, but they could fight.

Stepping away from their main quarry to gather a few of the farmhands' spirits, Geralt called out after the Courier spoke. "Hmm, wonder how that'd work with Igni...Cadet, was it? You need that thing for anything?" He asked the Ace Cadet, silently hoping he could walk out of this with something, at least. He wasn't totally sure how these spirits worked, not down to the letter, but he did notice that Linkle had left a trail of ice, and he was pretty damn sure she couldn't do that before. That kind of power....those things were like mutagens. And while he wasn't exactly eager to experiment with these things, he knew how much of a difference the right mutagen could make in a fight. The difference between life and death.

The big guy and his friends were gathering up, too, Geralt noticed, after Bowser broke off from the fight to protect his son. It was sweet, in a way. He'd dealt with enough monsters to know that plenty of them were just like humans, even if their bodies weren't. Hell, when he first met Emhyr at that damned betrothal, the man looked like some kind of hedgehog! If only he'd stayed that ugly....

Still, it was good to see everybody alive and well, if a bit shaken and wounded. They'd be able to head back to the town, lick their wounds, and maybe Mina would have something good for them in the morning. If only the Brachydios had left something to cook....though the Witcher wondered how good giant lizard-monster meat would taste. How would you even prepare it?
____________________________________________________________________________

As everybody gathered back into their transportation to return to Lumbridge, Geralt quietly meditated. It was a good way to keep his body somewhat rested, as well as his mind. His breathing was slow, as was his heartbeat. To the casual observer who didn't know better, he might very well have died sitting in this position and just...stuck that way.

Linkle's question to Euden caught his ear, and Geralt's eyes opened ever so slightly, the red replaced with an amber. Perhaps ironically, removing Galeem's influence had made his eyes look even less human, rather than more.

He was interested in how Euden controlled that kind of magic, however. It was impressive, to say the least. That level of raw power, even if he was only able to unleash it for short periods of time, spoke volumes about the boy. He could go far like that. Protect people. Or kill them in droves. It was all up to him, really.

Another thing that had interested him was the Courier's weapons. They made explosions like a bomb, but....they didn't explode? He saw the bright flashes from the end of the weapon as it ripped apart the Brachydios's neck, so it did something, but he wasn't sure what. Was it like a crossbow that launched something with an explosion? That sounded insane, like letting a grapeshot bomb going off in his hand! How it didn't blow the lunatic to pieces was another mystery.

Still, he couldn't argue with the results. He'd have to ask the man about how they worked at some point. But later. Right now he was tired, and he wanted to at least get some rest while they made their way back.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Hokagae
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Hokagae 90s Kid

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Death

Level 1 - (4/10)

Location: Dead Zone - Redgraccon Police Department

Word Count: 220



Death, upon speaking to the group, immediately had more than a few weapons pointed his way. He wasn’t fazed by this, however. Should have known they would all be on edge given the current situation. Just then, an older looking man stepped forward and claimed to be the one in charge. The Reaper was about to speak again when the stranger he came in with revealed himself, much to everyone’s surprise. It seems this man was telling the truth before and he really can come back from the dead. Death was a little curious as he had never met someone who could come back to life before and took note.

Once the surprise had died down a bit, Death was again spoken to by the leader of the group. The Horseman was then informed about the killer’s abilities and told that a few others were already dealing with the ghost that keeps them trapped in this building. Death figured the killer was the more immediate threat at the moment. Apparently there were also another two from the group that looked to stop this killer as well, which he would assist them in. Giving a small nod to Howard, Death them moved off in the direction that Ratchet and his medic had gone in an attempt to catch up to them.
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Archmage MC
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Archmage MC

Member Seen 10 hrs ago

Blazermate

Level 6 - (2/60) EXP +1
Location: Police Station
Word Count: 382


Blazermate was ready to go with Ratchet to find the serial killer, when she could hear the horde getting close to the police station. "You and Ratchet are good fighters right? I think I need to deal with that horde more than anything. Be safe~." Blazermate said, hopping off Ratchet and making her way towards the sound of the horde outside of the station.

She missed Joker as he left to assist the ritual, but she did run into Death. Something felt... familiar about him, but there wasn't much to think about with that as the approaching hordes were more of a concern. With a wave to V, Blazermate said. "I'll buy us some time with that horde. Hopefully we can get this spirit thing fixed and teleport out of here before my distraction ends." Saying that, she then remebered the teleporter wasn't anywhere nearby. Facepalming a bit, she summoned Dell, telling him to destroy the teleporter side here in the Dead Zone and remake it. The texan man shrugged and got to work. With that all straightened out, Blazermate moved through the station to find a good vantage point to command the hordes.

Eventually she made her way to the wing where the noise from the horde was the greatest, the room where Jak and Daxter were helping out the civvies alongside some of the other survivors. Most everyone here looked no worse for wear, minus the obvious panic behind Daxter and the foreboding air of everyone, as if this was the biggest horde yet to attack them. Making her way to a window, Blazermate looked outside to view the horde. Yep, it looked like it sounded, a huge bunch of various zombies, demons, and everything. She doubted they could all take this, even with her command over the undead, considering the various menagerie of evil around them.

"Well... I think I can hold them off a bit." Blazermate said. With a few directions from her suffering arm, mostly "attack anything next to you who doesn't follow this order and protect the station" those in the horde that would listen to her commands started to attack the ones who didn't, causing a vast amount of chaos within the amassing hordes ranks. "That should buy us more time. Hopefully the others can get that ghost banished or whatever so we can get out of here." Blazermate said, nodding at her work.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by TruthHurts22
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TruthHurts22

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Phoenix Wright


He had the feeling someone was staring at him, sure. And Germ was obviously looking this way every time Phoenix looked around the diner. But that didn't mean that he was being watched. No, of course not.

(I think Pat is starting to rub off on me. I need to start hanging around better influences.)

Then, as if the universe loved proving Phoenix's inner monologues wrong, the bird-man who had been looking at him suddenly popped over the back of his chair. Phoenix nearly choked on his milkshake, and man would that have been embarrassing.

"I-I, ghak, what?!" Phoenix leaned away from Germ as if he was an actual germ. He even slid his shake further away, as if the bird would try and steal it. Is that what a day of being paranoia-adjacent does to people? Make them actual paranoid?

Steeling his nerves, Phoenix settled, shifting his seat a bit to the side so he wasn't stabbing Germ in the face... beak?... with his hair. "Erhm, right. A case." Phoenix paused. Why was he so willing to tell some stranger about one of his cases? Didn't that break some, like, client/attorney protocol? He might've just been wanting to have a normal conversation for the day, one that didn't involve government conspiracies. Or fish. Or fish conspiracies.

Clearing his throat, Phoenix filled the silence. "Well, uh, this one time I had a client whose case against them was about how he could fly, and how nobody could've committed the crime without...flying." (Oh, now I know why lawyers don't discuss their cases. It makes them sound crazy.)
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Lugubrious
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Lugubrious Ghost who chose life

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Lumbridge

Level 6 Tora - (5/60) EXP and Level 5 Poppi - (13/50) EXP
Location: the Land of Adventure
Word Count: 1614


Through hill and dale, over river and plane the Brother Grimm rumbled, followed by the Centurion's drill cart and the Courier on his chocobo. Some snoozed away the relatively-peaceful ride despite Poppi's driving inexperience, but some remained too wired by the night's encounter to relax. Euden found himself in the latter group, instead sitting between Linkle and Geralt in the bed of the monster truck, still riding the high of giving Linkle a high-five. With the Witcher more than a little taciturn, the prince contented himself with watching Linkle experiment with her ice powers, up until the point she broke the silence to start talking to him again. He felt pretty confident he understood why she was asking her question, but he opted to settle it before getting to the crux of the issue.

“Well, I don't really 'want' to stop. Shapeshifting takes energy, and when it runs out, I'm forced back into human form.” He watched her last little ice sculpture bounce off the ground behind the truck, glinting in the startlight, and when it disappeared looking at Tora snoring right next to Ace Cadet instead. “Since it seems like your hair changed when you started making ice, though, have you tried not making ice for a while? Might be something like my eyes. They turn red when they I'm ready to shapeshift.” The irony of his eyes always being red in the World of Light escaped him.

Some time later Brother Grimm arrived in Lumbridge, and it did not find a sleeping town. Even if a number of townsfolk hadn't stayed up hoping to see everyone return, the lightshow that evidently went off over the distant steppe, visible from the town, drew a lot of attention. There was no grandiose celebration, but after Poppi stopped the truck with the help of a shed on the town's outskirts, the disembarking heroes found an assortment of townsfolk waiting for them on the bridge across the river Lum and its riverbanks. With most of the overly enthusiastic kids in bed, the onlookers presented a mature response, offering things like water and blankets to the heroes as they passed. Poppi, holding Tora like an exercise ball, could scarcely contain her joy as she walked through the space in the crowd. Moments like this, ones in which she felt like a real hero, were what made it all worth it.

The Houndmaster and his trusty dog met the returning heroes in the middle. “Incredible,” he told them, his gruff voice carrying an awestruck tone. “We saw it all. The scouts reported an area that reminded me of the Farmstead, but we harbored not even the faintest inkling of the extent of the blight's development. I held such certainty that the beast would avoid such a tainted region, as well. Yet here you are, having survived the worst that the Land of Adventure can offer. I am speechless.”

“Well, I'm not!” A burly, red-haired man approached and crossed his arms. “You all must be pooped. If you wanna rest, ain't a better place than my Great Ton Pu Inn. Free tonight for heroes, extra-soft beds 'n everything!”

Poppi nodded gratefully and headed in the direction that the Innkeeper indicated. The inn was close, sitting right on the edge of the river Lum. Inside Poppi found a small room for herself and Tora to lay the Nopon to rest in. Once he was comfortable, she sat down and went into standby mode, drawing ether from the atmosphere into her furnace to replenish herself. The others could follow the pair's example and bed down for the night, or travel throughout the town or beyond. Even with most of its populace abed and its facilities closed, Lumbridge offered more than enough to keep an insomniac interested. While the guildmarm couldn't be found in the castle Guild at this hour, the job board offered a number of smaller tasks that anyone could pick off at any time.




Though greedy and gluttonous, Tora was not lazy, and he woke at an early hour of the morning with the fleeting essence of a wonderful dream on his mind. He struggled to hold on to it, but it slipped through his wings like sand, leaving him with a tinge of melancholy. With a yawn, he rolled upright, blinking as he examined his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small room, homely and without presumption, and he felt like a million bucks. It must, he reasoned, have something to do with the amazing bed he found himself in. Whatever it was stuffed with, it felt as soft and comfortable as a warm cloud, and it had blessed him with one of the best nights of sleep in his whole life. That stood out as particularly poignant given what he did last night—that mad struggle beneath jeering stars. And yet now all his troubles had melted away, leaving him ready to start the new day.

Of course, he couldn't begin without Poppi. His artificial blade sat in a chair by his bed, still running a restoration routine. The sight of her sparked some sort of remembrance in Tora, and an idea struck him, another step toward bringing an illustrious vision to life. “Ooh, Tora getting closer to think of design for third mode. And new upgrades for this mode,” he murmured. Better than any coffee, inspiration surged through his mind, and before him unfolded dazzling arrays of components, circuits, and code, as clear as the approaching day. Tora bounced to his feet, landing on the floor with enough of an impact that Poppi felt it and awoke from her subroutine.

“Good morning, Masterpon,” she greeted him, before rising to her feet. “We in Great Ton Pu Inn. Rumply man say we can spend night without paying.”

Tora beamed. “Meh, meh meh meh!” he sang, before clapping a hand on Poppi's shoulder. “That great news. Tora have some too: after great sleep and dream, idea for implementation of new mode come into head, meh.”

Curious, Poppi considered what he said. “Did Masterpon finally come up with design?:

The Nopon shook his head. “Sort of. But Tora keep brainstorming until one day new design appear over head like ether bulb.”

Poppi looked unimpressed. “If Masterpon say so...”

“When inspiration strike, Masterpon power up Poppi ASAP! Please, trust in Masterpon!”

“Understood.” Heading over to the door, Poppi opened it to lead Tora downstairs. “But if Poppi had breath, Poppi would not hold it.”

Tora waddled through, shaking his head. “You not trust Masterpon at all. Well, let's go to smithy and get to work. After breakfast, meh.”

Some time later, after a few adventurers trickled in, the two gathered in the guild hall. At seven in the morning, the sun shone cheerily down on a Lumbridge already going about its business, and on heroes preparing for another challenge. Tora was already a bit smudged and singed by his work in the smithy, though not nearly to the degree of the newly-returned Courier 6, who had evidently not slept one wink in the night as he backtracked to Hammerhead to do some engineering instead. Still, the Nopon had made good on a few of his ideas and improved the capabilities of both himself and his blade.



From the sound of it, there had been some excitement in the night, so late in fact that it was not only this morning but only a few minutes before Tora and Poppi got up for the morning. A few people had appeared from the teleporter Blazermate left behind here, needing help and babbling about a horrible situation in a place called the Dead Zone. After that, however, nobody came for a time, which meant a hefty double dose of worry and confusion. There were still some people with the survivors now, trying to piece together a coherent picture of what was going on based on their shared testimony while watching the teleporter.

One face stood out as the heroes gathered, and even thought it was hidden, its owner did not seem pleased. Leaning against the quest counter, the guildmaster drummed his gloved fingers on the wood with his other hand a fist on his hip. In fact he looked downright furious, but Peach approached him anyway. “We have completed the F-rank hunt, guildmaster. But it wasn't the strongest enemy in this land, was it?”

After grinding his teeth, the black-robed highroller gave a strained reply. “...No, there's one more. G-rank. But let's not get ahead o' ourselves, huh?” His manner suddenly changed to relaxed and cocksure. “Bumped off the Brach, did ya? That's what I keep hearin' on the rumble, pal, but I ain't a chump. Where's your proof, sister?”

Peach opened her mouth, then closed it again, frustrated. There was no proof, obviously, since the monster turned to ash when killed.

Germ Warfare

Location: Clik Clak Diner, Lumbridge, Land of Adventure
@TruthHurts22


Germ stared at Phoenix, his yellow eye wide. A case based on how someone could fly. “Neat.” Then, after a moment of silence, he blinked, a little let down. The lawyer seemed ill at ease for some reason, and less-than-eager to carry the conversation with details of his case. Since Germ was not at all willing to carry the conversation, he let it dissolve and slid back down into his booth. A few moments later he took a hike, leaving Phoenix, his scaly client, and the Clik Clak diner itself behind. Things were tough without his friends, Mae especially, and even tougher without his family.

The worker behind the diner's counter watched him go. With the place even quieter now that Germ was gone, she felt obliged to make conversation. “Funny egg, that one,” she remarked. “Never talks to anyone except to ask about stuff. Usually about family. Touchy subject for just about everyone, it seems.” From the way she talked, she made herself sound like an exception. Not everyone had family to lose, of course. Those who did ended up needing to confront the possibilities: their loved ones could be somewhere else in the World of Light, not brought over, dead, and so forth. She glanced at her customer's drink. “Want a refill?” she asked, still not sure whether or not she should be asking Pat if he wanted anything.

Ratchet and Death

Location: Lounge, RCPD, Dead Zone


For a brief time Ratchet and Clank wandered the police station, as much searching as they were brazenly daring the killer to attack them. He was in the library, unintentionally having drawn close to the Preta disposal crew as he wandered around, when Death caught up to them. It had been a few days, but the two couldn't help but recognize one another from that morning on a cliff, where over a half-dozen fighters sought to end the life of a little pink puff called Kirby ad were instead awakened to justice. Still, regardless of their collective efforts so far, the murderer evaded them. It was only after the two went into the lounge that hell broke loose.

The wall exploded in a ball of flame, and through the opening they could see three pyrobats and a demon. Without so much as an introduction the flaming fliers attacked, with the squawking demon strafing around to swoop at the heroes when safe and the bats alternating between fireballs and flame beams. The lounge didn't offer much room to maneuver, but Death could climb to the roof easily and Clank could keep Ratchet in the air. Thanks to the opening, both could see the sheer size of the horde currently attacking the police station's front, with some zombies starting to form physical piles, but there was no sign of their real target.

Jak and Daxter

Location: First floor east side, RCPD, Dead Zone


Alongside Tess and Eddie, Jak and Daxter hurried through the east side, without a moment to lose. First they hit the press room, where a number of survivors holed up, and Eddie yelled at them to get a move on. The civilians complied, spurred on by terror, with the last of them -a portly dragon with a wide-brimmed hat- trundling toward the main hall only a few moments later. The fighters kept a close enough on the survivors lest they let the killer through, but none of them fit the bill, and the four didn't exactly have the time for a close inspection. Next up was the break room and nearby guard room, where the last couple survivors they needed to gather would be.

They heard the commotion before they saw it. When the fighters rounded the corner in the eastmost hall after passing through the empty watchman's room, they spotted a fight going down by what remained of the barricade to the basement stairs. Brandishing dual pistols, the hooded man encountered by Ratchet and Clank, Jones, was fighting against a hooded wraith with dual swords. The lack of room, as well as the ability of the wraith to phase through walls, made it a tough fight, but somehow Jones kept himself in one piece. He moved around constantly, firing one or two shots before dodging again. The tactic used an enormous amount of energy, leaving him almost constantly tired, which was where his friend came in. Standing down the hall, out of immediate danger, a majestic-looking dog barked at Jones whenever he started to slow down, causing blue-green glimmers to appear around him. Somehow, the dog kept giving him a second wind, inspiring him to keep fighting.

Eddie reached out a hand. “Stand back!” He raised his fearsome double-bladed axe, only for a nearby window to burst and a wiry-looking zombie to jump in. “Watch it, lame-o!” Eddie cautioned, as he cleaved it in half instead. Another zombie stumbled inside, falling right by the dog and clutching at his flank. The Pyrenees yelped and hightailed it out of there, running between Jak and Daxter. Outside, more zombies approached, with a wave of skeletal soldiers right behind. Tess and Jak couldn't use their guns in such a tight space with melee fighters like him around, he knew. Eddie bisected a marauding zombie before jumping through the window himself to bring the fight to the invaders. “C'mon then, you gross disgusting mutants!” he yelled. “Rock can heal, but sometimes it hurts!” He planted the axe in a zombie before pulling out his guitar and starting to play. A few strums of its string sent electricity arcing through the crowded enemies.

Jones dove out of the way of the wraith's swing and slid down the hall toward the others, firing upside-down as he did. One bullet zipped into its hood, illuminating for a split second a ghastly, skeletal face. “Man, am I glad you guys are here! Let's go!” Unwilling to let that happen, the Wraith teleported behind the group. More zombies clambered up the stairs, including two Spawn, at the head of the pack, one of which tore a normal zombie in half on arrival.

Nero

Location: Displaced Bungalow, RCPD, Dead Zone


Things went south fast. Naturally, the stress got to Donnie and he went about the ritual a little fast. When the Preta made a grab at him, he maneuvered out of the way without much of an issue, but that very alacrity sent components flying. Some food, the tablecloth, and the incense sticks scattered about, and all of a sudden the monk was on the run, dodging this way and that just to keep himself a hair's breadth out of the giant specter's grip. After a moment, Nero realized that he was doing it to buy the others time, and with a nod slid out from his hiding place to lend a hand. He went for a handful of spilled salad, only for the Preta to notice, and to be safe Nero ducked under another table. A moment later the ghost grabbed the one he'd previously been under and took it away into the dark, where it was lost from view.

A round thing rolled out from a different table, which Nero realized with raised eyebrows was Ms. Fortune's detached head. Flapping her ears like wings and jetting blood from her neck, Fortune guided her head toward the salad. The Preta seemed to ignore it, and Fortune wasted no time chomping down on the food and carrying it up to the partially-filled plate on the cabinet below where the monster loomed. “Blech!” she spat it out into the bowl, hopefully no worse for wear, then rolled off.

Working off a spur-of-the-moment idea, Nero shot off a wire snatch at the wall on the other side of the incense sticks. Its claw dug into the wood, and the reel dutifully retracted, pulling the devil hunter across the floor. It dragged him too quickly for the Preta to nab him, and he managed to grab one stick as he slid over them. Just before reaching the wall he released the snatch and rolled under a nearby table. He grasped the hilt of the Red Queen with his left and held the stick against the engine with his right, then revved it. Just as he hoped, the momentary burn ignited the incense, filling the air with fragrant smoke.

Meanwhile, Joker took advantage of the commotion to sneak close to the cabinet. In the dark, his black clothing and stealthy bearing made him almost invisible, and he used his chance to gently replace the colorful tablecloth on the makeshift altar. One he placed the bowl on top of it, he glanced to Nero. The devil hunter held his breath, glanced up at the screeching Preta, and then flicked his incense stick at the thief. Nimbly Joker caught it from the air, stuck it into the cup by the bowl, and slunk back into the shadows.

A moment passed as the smoke drifted up to the Preta, but once the fumes reached it, it immediately gave up its attempts to maim Donnie. Instead it looked downward with that one scarlet eye, illuminating the altar like a deadly spotlight. With those enormous spindly fingers it reached down, grasped the tiny bowl, and pulled it up to its face. Desperately it sucked the food through its pinhole mouth, and Nero couldn't help but shudder at the slurping noise. This went on for a few tense moments, the only other sound being the plop of Ms Fortune's head as she stuck it back on her neck. All eyes were in the Preta as it finished its meal, leaving its arms to dangle, and then turned away. It vanished into the dark, and a couple seconds later its tortured breathing disappeared too. A door on the other side of the now table-deficient room swung open, and the heroes could depart.

V

Location: Main Hall, RCPD, Dead Zone


Whatever it was that kept the horde stalled, it did not lost for long, just as the voice had said. Barely a minute later the wall of monsters lunged forward, as if an invisible dam had broken. The survivors stood ready, having blockaded the front door with furniture and armed themselves for a fight, but the horde hit the front of the police station like a tsunami of bodies. Instantly several windows gave way, and the barricade almost collapsed. Zombies spilled in through the windows, and the whole situation turned to chaos in an instant. V commanded Shadow and Griffon to attack, and the demons sprang forth to decimate the first handful of undead through the a window. Long-range fighters let off an opening salvo of projectiles to deal some damage before the close-range ones ran in. Louis and Ukyo attacked with speedy slashes, aiming to deal with enemies in single strokes by severing limbs to slow them down. Ghalt started blasted, each shotgun slug reducing a zombie to pulp, no kill was a victory; each shot was also a step closer to running out. Voices were shouting while weapons fired and monsters howled, creating an impossible din. For each monster that went down, two took its place, and there weren't just zombies. There were a whole host of demons, from imps, ghouls, goblins, lemures, Baykok, and Kwancha to Cainas, Antenoras, Stygians and Hideous. Some posed only marginally more threat than the zombies, but some attacked with huge, deadly weapons or dark magic. Ghalt blasted one Antenora onto its back, only for it to bellow and get back up with wormlike purple tubes pumping through it. He shot it again only for the Antenora to bulldoze straight through and hack into him with both cleavers. Grunting and bleeding, Ghalt fell back, but Louis shot him a heal only to be engaged the next moment by a Hideous. For a few moments it seemed as though the survivor's defenses might be broken under the weight of the first wave.

Then Blazermate, holed up in her new position, resounded her howls across the incoming horde. A large portion of the nearest zombies responded, pivoting to attack their allies. While dealing little damage, they served as obstacles for the station windows and door, forcing their former allies to tear through them first and buying the survivors some time. V, wracked by fear, gave a sigh of relief. He took a step forward to slide his cane into the body of a wan lemur, which he then threw to the ground and held down with his foot to pull the blade free. “The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest.”

Using the time they'd been given, the fighters battled on. For all intents and purposes, their foes were endless. Blazermate could only control so many undead, and while she could seize more when hers fell, she couldn't hope to stop the monsters from reaching the inside. In the middle of the hall, the crowded civilians watched the chaos, prepared to fight or flee should their protectors fall. Kai and Leon arrived with the kids and small, sentient animals who'd been secured in the waiting room, adding to their numbers, and survivors from the press room appeared soon after. On their heels came a dog in armor, big and friendly if a little scared. Another minute or so of furious struggle followed, the rain outside becoming steadily harder, before something changed. The warm, humid air suddenly grew more tolerable, and the impenetrable pitch-black darkness surrounding the police station gave way to ordinary night. Jill shoved a grenade into the mouth of a zombie crawling through her window and ducked out of the way for it to explode. When she popped back up, she could see for a brief moment that the dark had faded. “I can see the street!” She yelled. “The Preta's gone!”

Sure enough, V watched Blazermate's teleporter whirl to life, a blue disc of energy forming above its spinning top. Howard saw it too. “Alright, we're out of here!” he bellowed. Against all odds a way out had revealed itself. “Step on one at a time, don't crowd, stay calm!” First onto the teleporter was Feng Min, one of the survivors rescued by Joker. She could help coordinate on the other side, after all, and get whoever was in this 'Lumbridge' to help. The moment she stepped foot on the device, she blipped away in a flash, and one of the kids stepped on right after. To the collective horror, however, the teleporter didn't work. A couple dozen pairs of eyes watched for ten whole seconds as the machine span back up to speed, started to glow, and then teleported the kid.

Howard's jaw hung open. “Damn,” he sword. “Thirty to forty people, ten seconds each. This isn't gonna work.”

As if to illustrate his point the front door and its barricade exploded in a shower of wood and metal. Howard reacted on instinct, leaping on top of the main desk while summoning his Axe Legion, invisible to everyone but himself, to put up a shield and protect everyone from the shrapnel. A huge demonic machine rolled inside, carving up debris and lesser monsters alike. V panicked and summoned Nightmare, who broke into the world through a glass veil and shoulder-charged the Pain to keep it at bay. The two hulking constructs faced off with their enormous arms, their fight spilled out into the courtyard in front. Howard gnashed his teeth and straightened up. “Alright, plan B! Everyone, out the back!” He pointed toward the large window on the second story of the main hall, far side. If the horde was at the front, spreading around the building, the back might just be their way out of this place. “Let's MOVE!”

Everyone began to move. Survivors and fighters alike turned their backs on the embattled front of the police station and ran for the back. A couple tripped in the mad scramble, a few too close to the front got charged and went down, and one or two stayed in hiding. One survivor, a surly-looking living coin, stood on the teleporter up until the moment a demon attacked, warping just in time to avoid getting destroyed, though the device itself wasn't so lucky. The fighters, meanwhile, did their best to help the survivors up and out. Jill grabbed the intercom at the reception desk and yelled into it, “Attention all personnel, we are leaving the building out the back. Go now!” She threw it down and started running herself, making for the second floor back wall. Fox, the first one there thanks to his quick feet, kicked through the stained glass and jumped down to the ground outside. Behind the police station was the perimeter wall, and beyond that the street. There were two problems: the drop was too much for many of the civilians, and they could not get over the wall. V could see both from where he stood, with so many crowding on the stairs and second floor landing. He had an idea.

“Griffon, clear a path.” He pointed out the direction.

“Everybody GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF THE WAY!” the demonic bird screeched. V teleported on top of Nightmare, a technique called Promotion. He commanded the golem to punch Pain backward, then turn inward toward the back of the station. A special command caused the entire demon to teleport a few feet, landing in a kneeling position in the middle of the receptionist's desk. A magic circle appeared in front of its core, where a single pink eye glowing brilliantly. The circle grew larger and larger, until a gargantuan pink beam blossomed first, blowing through everything in the center of the main hall first floor, through the back wall, through the perimeter wall, and through half of the building across the street. No sooner had the beam faded away than the survivors were on the move, fleeing from the doomed police station. Fighters worked to surround the civilians as they made their escape, providing protection from all angles.

Nightmare then fell, too wounded from the zombies and demons attacking its back to maintain its presence any longer. A half-dozen groping claws lashed out at V, clashing and gouging, but Griffon carried him away to the second floor. He landed heavily, wounded and panting, and looked down at the mess below him. With only Blazermate's undead cronies holding the horde back, and only then by the physical obstruction of their bodies, monsters were sweeping into the building. Some already piled beneath him, and others were heading for the stairs. At this rate, the horde would reach the survivors before they could get away, burdened as they were by ordinary people and young ones. He couldn't do anything to stop them. He was going to die.

Griffon landed on his railing next to V. He'd taken a few hits, though he fared better than Shadow, who had been stalemated. “You okay there, V?” he asked, warily eyeing the incoming monsters. “We, uh, gotta go. Like now. C'mon, V, get up!” The mysterious one tried, but could barely stand. Clenching his teeth, he tottered in the direction of the stairs, even though monsters stood between him and the others' escape route. Griffon started firing lightning shots at the, but both knew it wouldn't be enough.

Then the library door burst open. Nero, Joker and Ms. Fortune charged out, the former charging his prosthetic as he did. A glance flew V's way. “Now, you look like you need a hug,” the devil hunter told him. “But you won't get one from me. Stand back.”

He held out his Gerbera, which unfolded into a circular formation. “Hey, scum!” he called down at the demons. “Here's a little taste of the GOOD SHIT!” Another beam sprang to life, sweeping back and forth through the horde. “What're you waiting for?” he demanded of the others. “Go! Now!”

Fortune gave a grateful nod and sprinted off, moving like the wind. V started off, moving at a slow pace until Shadow broke his stalemate and could be summoned beneath him to ferry him on. Nero stuck around to see the others off, firing off a few shots with his Blue Rose. Then Pain reappeared. “Never a dull moment,” he complained, switching to his Helter Skelter arm and starting to charge it, too. A jump into the open air followed by a Wire Bound took him to the third floor, at which point he ran toward the station's back. Once more he leaped into the air, and this time he unleashed his Helter Skelter's Breakage. The tapered helix unfolded into a gyrating golden spiral of whirling blades that carried him through the air in an enormous corkscrew attack. He drilled straight through the ceiling, causing massive damage before flying out into the night. Behind him the police station's roof began to collapse, falling in on the horde and blocking the survivor's exit. Smirking, he landed a moment later, surrounded by the sparking and clattering pieces of the ruined prosthetic, and ran off after the fleeing crowd.

His headlong sprint brought him to the head of the group in relatively short order. “So, where are we headed?”

“Away,” Howard panted. Though in great shape, he'd been doing this sort of thing for too many years, and carrying a kid under one arm and a penguin under the other took some doing.

“Saw somewhere on the way in,” Fox advised. “Looked like a highrise with some futuristic machinery and architecture stuck on. There was this big guy standing outside with a bunch of monster corpses, didn't say anything, but real scary. I saw these lifts that can probably boost us upward. Maybe we can get in.”

Howard nodded. “Yeah! We just need a place to hunker down while we send everyone through a new teleporter.”

Running a little ways back, and carrying a cat on her back, Fortune shook her head. “Not me. Got business to attend to here.”

“Whatever!” Howard grunted. “Nobody's going anywhere unless we get to this tower.” Fox's direction took the whole group east at the next opportunity. The fighters fanning out in a circle around the survivors encountered constant attacks, but nothing too major for the moment. Once around the corner, everyone could see the building in question, but an entire earthquake-stricken market avenue stood between them and the tech-touched tower. Two fissures had torn the place into three tiers, each at slightly different elevation. Either side held one half of the market plus some of the avenue, while a serpentine chunk of avenue stood between the two crevasses, totally exposed and with perilous drops but safe from grounded threats. Unfortunately, both other tiers sported a number of monsters lurking around, with the left side especially infested, and there were more than met the eye. “Chimeras,” Howard growled, pointing at the right side. “Only someone with a Legion can see 'em, and I'm the only one.” All three routes, then, carried substantial risk. The group could not deliberate for long, with the horde bound to catch up eventually.
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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by DracoLunaris
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DracoLunaris Multiverse tourist

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The Koopa Troop

wordcount: 1,018(+2)
Bowser: Level 6 EXP: ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (17/60)
Stress: 45/100
Bowser Jr: Level 5 EXP: //////////////////////////////////////////////// (8/50)
Stress: 88/100
Kamek: Level 5 EXP: ///////////////////////////////////////////////////(14/50)
Stress: 85/100
Location: Ancestral Farmstead, the Land of Adventure


The troop where mostly quiet throughout the journey back to town, Bowser and Kamek both loath to awaken the sleeping jr. There were two exceptions to this self imposed restful silence. The first was Bowser’s repeated summoning of Heel the Rabbit supporter striker to heal both himself and anyone else who still had lingering injuries. While Heel was not the most potent of healers the party had ever had by summoning the Rabbid every time they recharged Bowser was able to patch up everyone over the course of the ride without them using more healing items.

The other was Kamek quietly telling the Ace cadet how to get monster parts after the hunter had complained about their quarry turning to dust upon death. ”You need to be much more surgical in your attacks if you want to get pieces off of them before they disintegrate. One of the quests we did earlier today involved carving meat from far less dangerous beasts even that required such skill and precision that we had to hire a huntress to do that part of the quest for us. In a fight like that one we just had trying to kill it in such a way as to be able to retrieve its parts could have been detrimental to our ability to actual win to potentially a disastrous degree, or so I believe. he explained.

Eventually the team rolled into town and received a subdued hero’s welcome from the locals after they dismounted. The king and mage briefly shook of their fatigue as they marched through the crowds with straight backs and false confidence while Jr continued to dozen in Bowser’s reacquired hat.

”YEAH WELL THAT’S WHAT YOU CAN EXPECT FROM THE BEST!” Bowser boasted with forced bravado when the Houndmaster expressed amazement at their success. Later in their room at the in however, after jr had been tucked in, Kamek confronted the unspoken truth to his King.

”That was far too close. We almost died.” he admitted as the two elder koopas prepared to camp down for the night. ”And it wasn't even our confrontation the area’s guardian.”

”Eh...” Bowser began doubtfully before he processed the second half of his royal advisor’s statement ”Wait. What? It wasn't?”

”I do not believe so. You described to me a healing pulse that purified all in Peach’s castle, including myself and the young master, when your doppelganger was defeated. There was no such pulse after that battle.” Kamek replied

”Gah. Well if it’s not that then what is it?” Bowser grumbled quietly.

”I do not know. That’s something to be investigated in the morning. What I do know is that we need to be stronger before we face it, whatever it may be. And this strange world has a way of gaining power, we just need to take the leap and start using it to its fullest potential.”

Bowser grumbled skeptically as he brought up one of the jars filled with husk spirits and shook the contents about a bit. ”I mean yeah. Maybe. But I have taste. And these weirdos aren't it.” he said, sticking his tongue out in disgust as he caught sight of the Thing from Beyond the Stars spirit floating among the rest.

”Well maybe not those. I suspect that might be detrimental or even dangerous to our mental states. But it could be worth keeping an eye out for strong creatures in this land and seeking them out specifically to gain their powers. A touch of preparation now could make all the difference down the line” Kamek suggested.

Bowser was unwilling to commit to more monster hunting, but Jr, who had been woken by his guardians discussion despite their care and had listened to the rest of it while pretending to be asleep, was far more receptive to the idea.




The trio slept through the night with only the brief interruption by bad dreams about being the COO of a videogame company and other such stress induced terrors and awoke the next day as ready to face the day as they could hope to be after such a harrowing evening. After wandering over to Mina’s restaurant for a hearty breakfast (paid for with rupees this time) which improved their moods somewhat. After explaining to a few of the townsfolk where the land of the dead was and how a bunch of people had gotten from there to here via the glowing machine on the back of the Bowser mobile the troop headed for the guild hall.

There they found the Guildmaster talking with Peach and attempting to wrangle his way out of paying them their well earned quest reward. His attitude had taken quite a turn around from the cheerful one of the previous day, but rather than worry about the whys of this shift in attitude Bowser simply saw an opportunity to show off in front of the Princess.

”WELL THEN WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS THEN!” Bowser interjected triumphantly as he plonked a jar full of spirits onto the counter. After a few moments of Bowser standing there smugly jr pointed out that it wasn't at all clear that the Brachydios was in the spirit stuffed jar. In response Bowser assured everyone that it was before picked up the jar, going over to a table and then dumped all of the spirits from the jar onto it. Then after a few moments searching he dumped the other jars of spirits onto it as well, producing a convenient pile for anyone on the team to pick sprites from later. After a few moments of searching by the troop the Brachydios sprite was retrieved by Kamek and presented for the Guild Master to see.

”I should think this is proof enough.” Kamek stated calmly while Bowser insisted that ”YEAH SEE. TOLD YOU IT WAS IN THERE!”

While the others bothered the Guild master and Peach Jr plonked himself on a stool by the spirits and stared hateful at the dead things while flitting between thinking about what he could do/hunt to get stronger and dismissing his schemes as hopeless endeavors that would never get him anywhere.

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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by ProPro
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ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!

Member Seen 1 yr ago

Courier 6

Level 6 - (41/60) EXP (+2)
Location: Lumbridge Guild Hall
Word Count:1073


The crowds of people, impressed with their victory, came drawn out as the heroes took to the streets of Lumbridge. Well well well, Courier 6 was never one to shy away from attention, especially when it came with certain perks. Perks like a meal at a tavern? You bet he was going to eat that up, both literally and figuratively! To those who hung around, he decided to entertain with stories of their journey, slightly embellished to give him a more prominent role but not enough to be entirely off track. He undressed most of them with his eyes, eager to bed someone. He hadn’t had a good solid fuck in too long, certainly not since this whole World of Light thing came about.

But of course, even one as given to vice as the Courier was vigilant and determined enough to keep focused on the goal. Once he had his fill of food and entertainment, he made good on his word: he hopped on Drumstick and made for the Hammerhead garage. The Scrapyard back in the Mushroom Kingdom would have honestly been a much better area for what he needed to do, but it was too far off. There wouldn’t have been enough time to get there and build his robot, and get back to Lumbridge by morning. He’d make due. He would have to, since none of his companions agreed to come and help, and there was a lot of work to be done.




Once he had arrived at the Hammerhead, the Courier wasted no time in getting right to work. He downed a black coffee, revitalizing his energy and negating his need for sleep for one more night. Cid was very amicable, letting him work in the garage overnight. He laid down the supplies he had and began planning the schematics for his robot. Bastion appeared on his will, giving the Courier access to the Omnic’s design visually to aid in the schematics he already had programmed into his Pip-Boy. Various pieces of metal and scrap were about, numerous parts and pieces, but how to fit them all together? The Omnics as a whole seemed to be fairly easy to destroy, even an elite like Bastion, so he didn’t want to restrict himself to that design exclusively even though it was the Omnic mega core that was allowing him to power and operate this mechanoid. Then his eyes fell upon a cathode television stuffed in the corner and his brain lit up.

Securitrons! A perfect marriage of design!

And so he went to work. He placed down the broken pickaxe head of the Equalizer, the Eradishield Generator he had almost no use for so far, and the cube gunpowder Linkle had given him. That he would have to craft into extra bullets for this robot to use.

So the main body design was securitron, with an Omnic mega core. The personality matrix he’d copy from Bastion, then modify the coding to be more unique. As that would take the longest, it’d be done last. Hardware first, then software. Weld the titanium-alloy casing together, install the cathode television, place the core at the, well, core of it, attach the tread, yes yes all coming together well. He installed the Eradishield Generator into the main chassis as well as attaching the Equalizer pickaxe head to one of the arms. Since he was working with Bastion’s transforming schematics, he went ahead and built it so the weapon could be concealed and emerge from the arm at will. Ok, it had a decent defense with the shield generator, which could now move around with the robot instead of having to be stationary, and it had something to battle in melee, but what about it’s primary weapon?

The Courier pondered for a moment. Robert House’s securitrons at the Strip used 9mm submachine guns and gatling lasers as mere side arms but he didn’t have the resources to install either of those. Their primary weapons were grenade and rocket launchers, even more difficult to supply and like Hell if he’d do that even if he could get the materials. So what then? His eyes drifted over his own weapons until they locked onto one in particular: The Revolution machine gun he had obtained from Gaige’s spirit. In that moment he knew what he needed to do.

It’s what she would have wanted.

There was definitely a lot of work to do…




Morning came and the rays of dawn peaked out over Lumbridge. People crowded around the teleporter as some unknown people had come through, only for them to talk about how a large number of survivors were still in danger on the other side. Back in the guild hall the hooded guildmaster was skeptical that the heroes had accomplished their task, or at least was behaving like a petulant child about it. Bowser went ahead and basically shoved the guild master’s face in their victory. Just then the doors opened up and in strolled Courier 6, flanked by a large robot on a single tire tread, with a television screen holding onto a single static image in black and white of a familiar face.

”Howdy pardners,” the Courier greeted, tipping his hat back and slamming a bottle of whiskey he had taken from the tavern’s festivities the night before. ”Got ourselves a new friend. Allow me to introduce you hombres to my working prototype creation. She goes by…”


Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Gentlemanvaultboy

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Linkle


Level 6 - (5/60) + 3 + 35 + 20

Location: Lumbridge
Word Count: 3672





“Stop making ice?” Linkle considered, tossing the archway she’d been working on to the Kid and giggling when the chill of it caused her to put on an impressive juggling act before sending it flying over the edge. “Couldn’t hurt to try. Or not try, I guess."

She smiled at Euden. So, he got red eyes when he used his magic? How would she be able to tell? His eyes were always red.

Wait.

She stared at him. By the light of the stars she could still make out the color of his eyes, red like sunset. She frowned slightly. Right, she’d had to free Geralt. Which meant neither of those monsters were the one. The boss of this place was still lurking somewhere.

A few minutes later the gold crept back into her hair, the color changing over like the changing of a blanket. “Whew, good to know.” she said. “Thanks Euden. Not just for that, for coming along. That monster would have been so much harder if you hadn’t wrestled it down. It might have still punched me. I’m glad it didn’t, blowing up hurts!”




Linkle would have woken everybody once they reached town, but the shocking jerk that occured when Poppi stopped halfway through an old shed would probably see to that. Instead she eagerly hopped over the side, following along behind Tora and Poppi to greet the adoring public.

“Heck yeah we’re the best!” she said, echoing Bowsers false bravado with her very real bravado. The sea of red eyes that greeted them reconfirmed what she’d realized on the ride back. Still, they were kind eyes. It wasn’t so bad to see them.

“Linkle! Everyone!” came a voice as a familiar face plastered over with relief pushed its way through the crowd. As the others went up and were greeted by the town sheriff Linkle stopped to greet Din as she ran up. “I was so worried. All we could see were these strange lights from here. We didn’t know what was happening.”

Linkle chuckled and rubbed the back of her head, trying to play it off to ease her friends worries. “Yeah, you missed a pretty wild one. Nothing we couldn't handle though, just a few monsters.” She thought back to the thing and the mask dropped for just a second as she shuddered. “Pretty scary ones, but we all made it out all right with a big pile of spirits. You should have seen these boy, climbing all over the monsters ba-”

She stopped suddenly, having noticed something for a second time. This time it was all the more obvious under the lights of the town. Linkle’s whole demeanor changed, the casual cheer she had been trying to project falling away and being replaced by very real concern. She put her hand on the dancers shoulder, looking at her oddly. “Din, are you feeling okay?”

It was Din’s turn to look concerned. “Yes, I’m fine.” She answered hesitantly, confused by Linkle’s sudden concern. “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be. Perhaps the light, but the Sheriff seemed to recognize it and he didn’t tell us to take cover.”

Linkle pulled her close. “Did someone do something to you?” She whispered, glancing at the crowd. “Something weird? You can tell me.”

“No, what?” Din answered. “What’s wrong?”

“Your eyes!” Linkle whispered urgently. “They’re all red.”

“My eyes are brown.” Din said, trying to lean away.

“Not right now.” Linkle said, not letting her.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re back under Galeems power.”

“What? No I'm not! What is this, did Poppi tell you I was leaving? Is that why you're acting like this?”

Linkle takes 10 Stress


By now Din was rolling her shoulders under the pressure of Linkle’s grip. “Linkle, you’re hurting me.”

It took Linkle a moment to respond, and in that moment a chill seemed to grip the air. She let her head hang, and as she raised it again her face was...not calm. Placid, like a lake that had iced over. Even if the water was churning underneath then you would never be able to tell. It was a frightening look, so much so that when Linkle released her grip Din took a couple of steps back holding on to the red marks the grip of Linkle fingers had imprinted on her shoulder.

Linkle straightened her back and regarded Din. "I'm sorry." She said, looking away from the way Din was looking at her. "I guess that last fight was a little bit worse than I let on. Really messed with my head."

"I'll say." Din said warily. "Are you okay?

Linkle wasn't okay. She was mad. More than mad, almost insane. So furious that it seemed to swing the anger meter completely around so it ended up at a weird sort of tranquility. It was almost lucky, because as she felt her hot blood turn to ice she was able to examine the situation with a lot more clarity.

"I think I'm just stressed out." She heard herself lie. "That place was the worst. Evil. Things that hurt just to look at. Things that got into your head."

Din relaxed a bit, coming a few steps closer. "That sounds awful."

"Yeah. I can't blame you if you want to sit stuff like that out."

Din looked ashamed. "I wanted to tell you all, but I didn't want to ruin the mood and...I…"

"It's okay." Linkle said as she trailed off. "You don't have anything to be ashamed of. We each decided to run off on this adventure. We can all stop when we like. Besides," Linkle thumped her chest. "You don't have anything to worry about. I'd save the world even if it was just me. Hero of legend, remember? I can't die until Hyrule is safe."

Despite the strange, almost emotionless tone of Linkle's voice her words were comforting. Din breathed a sigh of relief. "Right."

"You still got that money, by the way?" Linkle asked.

"Wha...I mean, yes." Din said, flummoxed by how quickly the subject had changed. She took the jingling purse off her belt and held it up.

"Cool. Can I still have it? Turns out those tough monsters wearn't the big boss. I didn't manage to make any money today and I want to make some preparations tonight for when we run into him."

Din thought back to the dragon Bowser that had been guarding Peach's castle, how easily it had crushed two of their party like they were nothing. Linkle hadn't had the opportunity to fight that thing, had no idea of the power one of Galeems chosen held. "Here, by all means." She said, handing over the bag. "The crowd here is generous, I can make this back in an afternoon."

"Thank you Din." Linkle said, taking the bag a little more roughly than Din thought was necessary. "This will help more than you know. I've probably got a big day tomarrow."

As she started to walk away the rosy faced inn keeper was making his big pitch for how they could stay for free at his place tonight. Linkle thought that was good, one less thing she'd have to pay for. Din watched her go sadly, still not entirely sure what to think. At least until Linkle stopped and looked back at her over her shoulder. "You know you're always welcome. We're gonna be here a while longer. Think it over. You might change your mind before we leave."

With that Linkle made her was through the crowd, away from the inn, and down the street. She made sure she was a well way out of Din's sight, then spun around and with a crackle of electricity shattered a nearby bench with the heel of her boot. Sparks jumped between the pieces of wood, smoke rising from the singes they left behind.

How dare he?

How dare he?

What, had that coward the hand just waited for one of them to be isolated? What sort of light magic had he used to bring Din back under his thrall? She remembered Ratchet, how he'd been taken back when he couldn't bring himself to fight his friend. Was that it? Had the hand singled out the least combat capable among them to inflict some petty cruelty on while there was no one around to protect her?

That whorson, and stupid to boot. It was a pointless move. If he wanted to take one of their friends, they'd just have to take one of his. So far as she was concerned the bag jingling in her fist was now the Save Din Fund. Not just her, everyone. Everyone in this town would be saved once they killed that hands friend.

She walked down the street until she found what she was looking for. The sight of it would have made her burst out laughing if she was in any mood. The cucoo pen came into sight, but most of them weren't in the pen. Most of them were sitting of the chochobo, or one the fence beside the chochobo, or on the street crowding around the chochobo. One of them on fence caught sight of her and cucooed in her direction, setting off a wave of excited cucooing with the interested "wark" thrown in for good measure.

Linkle sighed as she approached. "Girls, I know he's cute but try and control yourselves." Nonetheless she flopped down, back against the fence, in the space they parted to make for her beside him. She wasn't on her butt for two seconds before they filled the space like white water, covering her in a warm, soft, smelly blanket of feathers. Despite still being angry she could feel the trials of the night seeping out of her, as though the little noisy birds were absorbing it, and without that a tiredness started to set in. She reached up and scratched the neck of the nearest one, which immediately made all the others jealous so she had to run her hand back and forth across the horde in an effort to keep all of them content. Then the big guy stuck his head down insistently and she scratched that too. After a few minutes her eyes started to droop, and soon after she was gently snoring.











Linkle's eyes shot open at the first cock crows of morning, the normal chickens in the pen nearby thankfully waking her from her fitful sleep.

She blinked in the early morning light, trying to separate what had really happened yesterday from the life she had experienced in her nightmares. Looking around she saw she was still tucked in tight in her feather bed, and breathed a sigh of relief. She was still in Lumbridge. Good. That means she hadn't gone on any quests. She was already a hero. She didn't need Galeems permission to be one, and she certainly didn't need it from weird sorta cute boys that didn't even dress the part!

She yawned, stretching out her arms as the birds graciously moved out of the way before snuggling back up.

"They certainly seem to like you." Came a voice from behind her. Linkle tilted her head up to see a young guy, not that much older than her if she had to guess, starring at her from the other side of the fence. He was carrying a big bag of feed over his shoulder, and as the cucoos started to swivel their heads to look at him he took a few cautious steps back.

Linkle spurge up, sending some cucoos flapping down across the street. "They should. I raised most of them." She said with no small hint of pride.

The boy looked at her in disbelief. "You raised these little monsters?"

"Hey, they are not monsters." She said, offended at the very thought.

"Say that to the last gofer Mina sent here to butcher one."

Linkle's face fell. "Did he live?"

"Only because one of the green kids pulled him into the guild." The guy said, stepping back and starting to spread out the food. The cucoos eagerly hopped back over the fence and began getting to work gobbling it up. "No ones been stupid enough to try since. They're great for eggs though. Hey!" The chochobo, who had stepped over the fence to join its new friends, stopped short of pecking at the bag he was carrying. Linkle hopped the fence too, and wrapped her arms around the big birds neck.

"Are you the one that's been taking care of them?" She asked, holding the big boy at bay.

The guy extended his hand. "My names Rick. I know a thing or two about poultry."

Linkle grabbed it and shook. "I'm Linkle. Same. I've been hoping to meet you. I was wondering if there was any way I could get them back."

Rick stopped and scrutinized her. His eyes darted from the swords on her back to the crossbows in her boots. "You're one of those adventurers, right?"

"Yep!" Linkle said, beaming with pride. "You might have heard of us. We were the ones responsible for that light show last night."

"Oh, one of those newcomers? Yeah, people have been talking about you guys all over town. Then sorry, I'm afraid not."

"Thank you so much, you have no ideExcuse me?" Linkle said. She quickly pulled out Din's wallet. "No, you don't have to give them to me. I can pay for the time you've spent taking care of them."

Rick just held up his hand. "I don't want money." He said. "Look, ever since the incident I've had people in your line of work looking to take these guys off my hands. They heard how dangerous they were and decided that they'd come in handy during a hunt." He gave her a dubious look. "Even if I thought you really were their owner, which I'm not convinced of, I still wouldn't be comfortable handing them off to you. I might not be some monster slaying hero, but I still take pride in what I do and I'm not going to give animals to someone planning to bring them out into the wild and use use them as weapons."

"I'm not going to use them as weapons!" Linkle snapped.

"Then what are you planning to use them for? Why would you bring a farm animal " He asked. Linkle started to answer, then stopped to try and find the right words. He wasn't technically wrong about what she wanted, but the way he was thinking about it was wrong. "Have you even thought about how you'd feed them all?" He asked, filling her silence.

"When they followed me last time they ate bugs." Linkle said, still thinking. Unconsciously she smiled. When they'd been on their adventure the girls must have wiped out every cricket and mosquito in Hyrule in their quest to fill their bellies. Rick didn't look very impressed with that answer, but who was he to judge? Had he ever fought side by side with them? No.

"I do plan to bring them into battle." She said, suddenly finding the difference. "But I'm not going to just throw them around like bombs. They'd never trust me again if I did that. I just need their help sometimes. I fight with them, not with them."

His continued scrutiny was really starting to tick her off. "Look, I'll show you what I mean." She said, jumping back and whistling sharply and lifting up her boot. He flinched back as the bird alighted on her toe. She began to kick, the cucoo fluttering up into the air bouncing itself from boot to boot as she alternated her kicks.

She and the bird suddenly jumped up into the air, it flying higher than her. She grabbed onto its outstretched talons and in a feat of impossible strength the bird tilted back and swung Linkle forward. She cut the with a crescent kick, flipping all the way around before spinning herself to the ground.

By that point a bunch of the cuccos had backed up, making a circle for her to land in. Two of them rushed forward out of the group as the first drifted to the ground. As Linkle's boots struck the earth the let off a blast of electricity, sending yellow arcs of lightning shooting across the ground. Unwavered, those two cucoos dove headfirst into the electricity. Rick started to dive forward to try and stop them, but instead of flash frying the lightning seemed to empower the birds. He looked on in amazement as the pair rushed in front of Linkle, feathers sparking, and jumped to thrust their talons forward before darting off to the side. Linkle was right behind them, thrusting herself forward with a forward kick while the two of them came in from either side to catch their imaginary opponent between the three of them before retreating to a safe distance. She brought her heel down on the ground, sending out another jolt to empower two more of them, and as she did spin kicks the two ran in a wide circle around her causing lightning to jump from them into the boots and back again.

"See!" She said, bringing the display to a close and walking forward. "It's not what you think. I need them more than they need me. Whoa!"

As she stepped forward a random one wandered underfoot, and Linkle threw herself back to avoid stepping on it and fell over onto the dirty floor of the pen. As she scratched her head in embarrassment the bird flapped its wings and hopped up onto her head.

More than anything, that was what convinced him. He had to admit, anyone willing to throw themselves onto the floor of a chicken farm to avoid hurting one wasn't the sort of person that would just throw them at a monster like a grenade. Beised, the way they just threw themselves fearlessly into the lightning meant they must have a lot of trust in this girl, and these girls didn't trust anyone.

"Okay. Let's talk." Rick said. "First things first, don't tell anyone here that they do lightning."

"I think they only do lightning for me." Linkle said cheerfully.

The two of them haggled for a while, but eventually came to an agreement. She would take three with her. That was enough for her to use herfull array of moves and they could rotate so they didn't get too tuckered out. The rest could stay here under the assumption that the three with Linkle could call for help at any time to summon up the swarm if need be and any wild ones she found or were summoned by a cry of distress would be sent back to Lumbride, Linkle assuring him that they always found their way back home. Rick would still be able to sell the eggs. After a while the conversation evolved into Linkle giving him tips on how to better care for them. Things like their favorite food (Restless Crickets), which ones were troublemakers (Ralph), and even what you were supposed to call a group of cucoos (a revenge).

Their conversation, though, was interrupted by a chorus of loud familiar "BAAAAAAs." Linkle looked up to see the three Rabbids running down the early morning street, screaming their little heads off as they went and looking around frantically for anyone smarter than them. The one in the front stopped short when it spotted her, the other two's screams going silent as they piled into the lead one. Unscrambling themselves the three resumed screaming and ran up to her, grabbing her by the cloak and pulling her off the dense where she'd been sitting while Rick looked on dumbfounded. "Sorry, I think they have something to show me." She called back to him as they dragged her down the street toward the town gate and the cars. The three Cucoos she'd chosen hopped down off their perch and ran off after them. The chochobo was soon to follow, leaving Rick alone and wondering what the heck was going on now.




What was going on had turned out to be big problems. Linkle had arrived at the front to find the gate guard already attending to a group of people that had arrived via their teleporter, which was now broken. While the guards questioned the shocked survivors Linkle had taken to hopping around on the teleporter to see if she could get it to work and the rabbits had given up on finding specific members of the group and were now dragging anyone they could convince to come with them or wasn't strong enough to resist them out to the teleporter to take a crack at this predicament.

By seven o'clock they had assembled a small crowd. Some here to tend to these survivors, others here to see what came through the teleporter next. Some who had taken the time to arm themselves seems very keen on what came out next.

Linkle, though getting a general idea of what was going on from the answers the survivors were giving, still had one thing knowing at her mind. She jumped off the teleporter and walked up to the survivor that looked the most human, a girl. "Hi." She said. "My name's Linkle. I'm friends with the people that built the machine that got you here. I'm sorry, could you tell me if you saw any of them? There was a cat guy, these two fist fighters, a robot that looks like a girl, and a talking bear. Oh, and a boy with really long ears and a weasel on his shoulder."
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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Yankee
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Yankee God of Typos

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Extra EXP (Dreams): +18+8
Word Count: 952 (+2 exp)
Level: 4 - Total EXP: 2/40
Location: Land of Adventure


It wasn't hard for the Ace Cadet to stay asleep most of the ride back. He ended up waking up a few times, sharing a small conversation with Kamek. His advice was appreciated - and good to know! He wasn't entirely sure if he would be precise enough for such a thing, but still. Spirits seemed cool, but it was nice to have a solid scale or slab of flesh in your hand. At least, that's they way he saw it. Thinking back to Geralt's earlier question, the Cadet decided to let the Brachy spirit go. Up for grabs, so to speak. It would be nice to get some new equipment, but he'd really been expecting to be able to chop the monster up. Next time he'd settle for a spirit. When the vehicle hit the smoother area of the ride back, it was right back to slumberland for the hunter. Sleep had always come pretty easily to him, and between the soft voices of the rest of the crew and the soft Nopon beside him that made for a perfect pillow to lean on... he was pretty comfortable, even in his armor. Despite the strangely cozy setting, the even stranger events at the farmstead seemed to have made for a nasty dream. He didn't jerk around or anything, but the sudden wake up made the young man spring awake as if called to action, his arm reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

"What's - ?! Oh, we're back!" Phew, he was back home! Or, well, in Lumbridge! Cadet hopped off the car and cheerily followed the others back into town. The hero's welcome was pretty nice all things considered. The hunter gratefully took a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders in the mockery of a cape, listening to the rest of the group as he decided what to do himself. He could go with the Courier to... wherever he was going, to be honest he sort of forgot. Something to do with metal. Might be interesting, but really what he needed was to get some supplies himself. However... turning out his coin purse let out naught but a dust bunny. Ouch. That giggisux, I've been slacking on getting rewards, huh?

Now didn't really seem like the time to ask for payment though, Cadet had at least enough tact to know that. Maybe a trip to the shop was in order - after all, he did have some empty jars which seemed to be worth their weight in gold around here. Then again... Hmmm... I could keep them to put more stuff in, but with a big group like the one we got some powders would probably be better. Maybe if I only get rid of one?

That seemed like a fair enough plan to him. It would have been nice to invite Peach or Linkle but one seemed really tuckered out while the other was speaking with someone he didn't recognize. Old friend maybe? She was pretty cute too. Oh well, maybe next time. "I'll catch up with you guys," Cadet said, fully intending on taking the innkeeper up on his offer. Sure, he still had a night left at the room he'd originally rented, but who could say no to such a heartfelt gesture? Either way, Ace Cadet was off to one of the markets that would be open at this time of the night. After some back and forth, he managed to trade one his jars for a trap tool. After that, it was scavenging time.

The hunter woke up just a liiitle bit late. Last night on his way to gather any items he could to restock, he'd wandered back towards the Brother Grimm. After all, there wasn't much to be found in town unless one planned to swipe something from someone, and that wasn't really the Cadet's style. He'd managed to find and armful of plants and mushrooms, when a strange felyne took offense to his presence. Or rather, took offense to the truck. After a squabble about the vehicle and offering to give the thing some of his weird berries - I'm nyot one of the things that likes those!!, it hissed - they managed to talk it out. Maybe the Cadet was feeling a little attuned to cats that night? Even so, the affair had him back at the inn later than he wanted, and kept him up crafting later too. In the end though, the Cadet added some nice things to his arsenal: a smoke bomb, dung pod, shock trap and lifepowders; his goal from the get-go. Then he'd promptly passed out and had a much nicer dream than earlier. So yeah, he'd slept in.

The sun saw the hunter bolt out of the inn and toward the Guild Hall, his equipment and items all packed up and his sword freshly sharpened. As he made his way, snippets of conversation reached his ears.

"...just appeared here..."

"...survive... Dead Zone..."

"...hope...okay?..."

The red head turned his head to listen, ever the curious one, even as he continued moving. It wasn't just one conversation, but talk among the townsfolk in general. Interesting. What the heck was a Dead Zone?

It wasn't long before the Cadet burst through the doors himself. He looked between the Guildmaster, the princess and the Koopa Troop, and Kamek's talk of "proof"...

"Please tell me that glowy orb is enough," Ace Cadet chimed in. Considering that the Brachydios had turned to ash it would feel awful if they couldn't provide solid evidence that the hunt was complete. Then again, the Cadet didn't hold any suspicions about the hooded Guildmaster so he hoped the man would just let them take on the next quest. "Come on Guildmaster!"
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Archmage MC
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Archmage MC

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Blazermate

Level 6 - (3/60) EXP +1
Location: Escape from the Police Station
Word Count: 662


It was a good thing Blazermate got to the survivors when she did, as the Horde was just about to attack as she commanded whatever zombies would listen to her to protect the station. These zombies really didn't stem the tide as much as she hoped, due to how few she could control, but with the removal of the evil spirit keeping everyone in the police station a few people were able to teleport out before the place got overwhelmed and everyone had to retreat out the back.

Seeing as the Horde was still comprised of undead, as they ran, Blazermate commanded what she could to help keep the horde at bay. alongside the beams and gunfire of the other retreating people, this only vaguely slowed down the ocean of evil. Seeing this, Blazermate changed tact. While she still commanded some undead to try to slow down the horde chasing them, She commanded a second group to protect the civilians, telling them to maul anything that got past. She also commanded a few to come by her, biting them with her suffering arm to transform them into more powerful undead before sending them back to either help the survivors or hold back the horde.

Almost like a screaming cacophony, Blazermate kept this cycle of hold back, save survivors, transform undead as long as she could as everyone escaped the police station. The biggest standout of this whole thing was when a survivor tripped, but before the horde could overwhelm them a Charger under Blazermate's control did what it could and charged at the survivor, carrying them in its huge malformed hand as it ran along with everyone else. Another standout was when Blazermate bit a common infected type zombie, and it turned into a Boomer, which ran at the horde and exploded, causing chaos as undead not under Blazermate's control began to dogpile on the demons and such that the boomer's bile covered. This alongside a stupendous maneuver from Nero really slowed down the horde, although all of this caused the police station to collapse upon itself.

Thanks to the collapse of the station, Blazermate looked for a place a bit off to the side to put a nest down and decided to put it on a ruined building along their path. Summoning Dell, the engineer got to work on making his dispenser and sentry to hold off whatever horde made its way around or out of the collapsing police station, hopefully holding them back with his elevated automated sentry gun as everyone made their way to a tower that Fox spotted.

Blazermate soon rejoiend the group, healing whoever got incindental damage from the other various evil creatures that managed to get some attacks in on the group. As they reached the building, they found the landscape looked... Well saying an earthquake hit the place would be an understatement. It was as if a huge battle took place between giant robots that constantly did wrestling moves on each other. "Well, I guess this'll funnel the horde, assuming they aren't all distracted by the sentry behind us." Blazermate said, as gunfire and the occasional explosion could be heard behind the survivors as the sentry got to work.

Howard mentioned something only he could see ahead, while Blazermate took this small moment of pause to continue to heal and charge Medaforce. "Well, then we don't go Right. The left side looked like it had a lot of zombies, so its not as threatening as it looks. And more zombies means more things to fight the horde chasing us." Blazermate said, giving her vote on where to go. Plus with the narrow streets here, one good Medaforce beam could cause some serious damage.
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by MULTI_MEDIA_MAN
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MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

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Geralt of Rivia

Lumbridge

Lvl 4 (0/40) -> Lvl 4 (12/40) -> Lvl 4 (13/40)

Word Count: 382 words

Stress Eliminated!


As the group arrived back in Lumbridge, Geralt took advantage of the crowd's distraction to sneak past everybody before he could get the usual treatment from his adoring fans. What a pain in the ass they were.

Once he was safely beyond the reach of the....locals...Geralt made sure to find himself a secluded spot where he could get to work. Preparing his small alchemical supplies, Geralt removed the ingredients he'd grabbed earlier that day, carefully measuring and mixing the amounts he'd need for his newest blade oil. While it wouldn't exactly be of much help now that he wasn't planning to actually fight his original target, he might end up being able to use it against the werewolf that had infected him, assuming they crossed paths.

What kind of monster did you have to be to willingly inflict that curse against another person? Unforgivable.

Shaking the thoughts of his original target off, Geralt wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Again. A bunch of dysfunctional hero-types gallavanting around the countryside, taking jobs and valuable rewards. Sure, they also let him join in and get his own share of the pie, but he wasn't certain that made up for it. Realistically, he was more worried about the trouble they'd be getting into, dragging him along because of his sense of camaraderie and duty and all those things a Witcher probably shouldn't be. Ah, well, wasn't much point in not going along, was there? This place was gonna be barren for a bit, now, anyway.

______________________________________________________________________

Waking up early the next morning from a very strange dream, Geralt quickly made his way to the Guild Hall just in time to catch Bowser and a few of the others asking the Grandmaster about their reward, only for the mysterious leader to ask for proof like he didn't know damn well the thing turned into ash when it died. Thankfully, one of the Big Guy's lackeys bottled the monster's spirit up and dumped the collection out on a nearby table. Removing the spirit of the giant fish monster he'd fought, Geralt left it on the table and looked over the ones there before turning to Bowser. "Got a new one for the pile, boss. Don't want it. Big and slow doesn't really fit my combat style."
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Hokagae
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Hokagae 90s Kid

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Death

Level 1 - (5/10)

Location: Dead Zone - Redgraccon Police Department

Word Count: 305



As Death caught up with Ratchet, he immediately recognized the lombax. Ratchet was one of the people who he met atop the hill when he first awoke in this strange land. The Horseman simply gave the orange furred creature a nod of acknowledgement and helped him search for this killer.

Despite their efforts however, the pair didn’t seem to be able to lure the killer out at all. They found themselves in what looked like a lounge when one of the walls blew open suddenly. Death had to jump back when one of the flying creatures tried swooping right at him. Bringing out his two scythes, the Reaper attempted to slash at the flying attacker. He diverted his attention briefly to look at the hole these things blew open and caught a glimpse of the horde of undead that had amassed outside the station. This was a problem.

Death made his move and darted past any of the monsters that were still alive, maneuvering his way toward the blown up wall. He used his agility to climb up along the outside of the building, using the ledges and crevices found along the outer walls to reach the roof. Death could now see the zombie horde that had broken through the front entrance.

The Horseman climbed down and back through the hole into the lounge, helping Ratchet take down any more of those flying demons if there were any left. ”The building is being overrun. We must leave.”He said simply, keeping his guard up in case of any more surprise attacks. Death kept his scythes in hand as he knew there would be plenty of fighting that would need to be done to get out of this. Right now, he would have to work with Ratchet if either of them wanted to make it out alive.
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by Genon
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Genon

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Donnie


Word Count: 967
EXP: (2/60) + 2 = 4/50


Donnie had never had to dodge so fast, so consistently, in his life. Not even the most difficult raids demanded pitch-perfect agility like this. Usually, there were others to take the hits for him, and his job was to damage the enemy while they were occupied with those who could actually take a punch.

He jumped out of the way of the preta’s fist as it smashed a table into splinters. He knew there was nothing he could do to fight back. Immortal, invincible, intangible. Death seemed to have granted Pichai all three of those incredible qualities, even as his own negative karma cursed him with a crippling hunger and an inability to sate it. Donnie supposed that even punishments had an upside now and then.

Pichai shrugged off attacks, Touch of Karma had ironically done nothing to the karma-cursed spirit when the preta landed a glancing blow, and he seemed to be intangible without any downsides. He could affect others, but others couldn’t affect him. If Donnie got grabbed, Pichai would be able to hold him, but Donnie couldn’t push off of anything. He’d be stuck with nothing to exert force on like a Lightforged soldier separated from the Vindicaar and sent drifting in the Great Dark Beyond, also known as outer space.

He rolled as the preta attempted another lightning-fast grab, missing him by inches. He transitioned from that into a flip that sent him soaring out of the way of another grapple and descended quickly enough to avoid an attempt to swat him out of the air, not unlike a cat swatting a bird.

Sweat ran down his brow, getting in his eyes. Itches that had gone unscratched for minutes on end stung at him. Residual aches, pains and friction burns from rapid movement, the odd botched roll and the stress he was putting his body through rippled across him. His muscles were starting to tire, and he felt the beginning of lactic acid buildup in his arms and legs. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer, he knew it. How long would it take the others to finish the godsdamned ritual?!

But then, finally, Donnie noticed that the attacks had stopped. He heard a slurping noise from above and dared to look up for a fraction of a second. When he saw the preta eating, he took an opportunity to catch his breath. His armor had been through a lot, but it had never been used for a ten-minute-long gymnastics challenge. It was scuffed and scratched from the ordeal, the ornate decorations marred. All of that rolling had caused gouges to form along the floor as well. Good thing he’d never see this place again.

A few seconds later, that was that. Pichai had gotten his fucking meal, the door swung open on its own and they were free to leave. The monk, even in his exhausted state, made a mad dash for the door with the others.

Then he heard the sounds of fighting. “Shit, the horde! They must’ve broken through!” he yelled, running towards the lobby as fast as his legs could carry him.
It was pandemonium in the Main Hall when Donnie almost broke the door off its hinges in an attempt to get to those in need. Demons, monsters, and undead of every size and shape had engaged the survivors. Nero used his robotic arm to clear a path, and Donnie joined the fight in earnest.

Monks could use most weapons they picked up, but they could generally only channel chi through their limbs. Not many enemies a Windwalker adventurer could loot would carry fist weapons nor would quest-givers hand out handblades, so many of them, Donnie included, opted to use the weapons they found more for their magical attribute boosts and keep them sheathed, relying on their fists and feet for all the fighting.

But of course, there were some situations that simply called for a weapon, and this was one of them. He needed reach in this case, something to make sure he wasn’t exposing his very-biteable arm to the undead hordes. He pulled out the swords that Mr. Grimm had used, still in their scabbards at his belt this whole time. They were balanced right, and clearly of good craftsmanship. If only they had come from a blacksmith and not the essence of a living creature.

But whoever they had been, once they had been turned into equipment, their death could not be undone, not even by Peach. Using the blades for what they were made for would at least be making something good out of Grimm’s atrocities.

And so, he carved, cleaved, slashed, stabbed, and dismembered. Zombie and demon alike fell before the swordsmanship he had learned from his training on the Wandering Isle and later at the Peak of Serenity. The kind of training that birthed a grandmaster.

He didn’t get very long to show his prowess before the survivors began to flee into the night through the path Nero had created. And so he followed them, staying on the outside of the throng to cut down any abominations that dared threaten the innocent.

Their only guide was Fox’s vague directions about a futuristic tower.

Then they got to the tower in question. The only routes to it had been ripped through by an earthquake of all things. Then Howard said something about invisible monsters that only he could see. This meant that all routes were dangerous. But they couldn’t stay for long. They had to pick a route now.

“Howard!” the monk yelled over the din of combat. “We need space to fight if any of the flying demons come after us, and I do not want any of the civilians to fall into the pits! We should take the left path!”
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by ProPro
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ProPro Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!

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Ratchet and Jak & Daxter

Level 6 - (14/60) (+2), Level 4 - (7/40) (+2)
Location:Dead Zone - Redgraccoon Police Department
Word Count:1188


As Ratchet wandered the police station almost blindly, frustration began to overtake his sense of caution. Proceeding carefully became running around wantonly, throwing open doors and charging in. This was certainly not helped when someone joined him in the search despite his previous statement that it would be best if he looked for the killer alone. That said, he was surprised to see who this new companion was: Death. ”Hey yeah, I remember you. You kinda wandered off after we were first freed… Surprised you recognized me after I absorbed Zer0’s spirit and gained a couple feet.”

With the reunion acknowledged the search continued. That killer was almost certain not to show up now that the ghoulish looking scythe monster was at his side, but Ratchet decided not to argue the matter. Not that he had much time to think on the issue regardless, as the massive horde that had gathered outside began its assault on the police station. Near the library, where the preta was being presumably appeased with the feeding ritual, was when all Hell broke loose.

The wall busted open and three bats of flame came in, as well as a demon with bat-like wings called a red arremer. The bats immediately attacked, while the arremer seemed to hang back a moment. Ratchet flipped backward, aided by Clank’s jet mode, which let the bat sail right underneath him. At the same time Death performed his own dodging, and then he… Just left?! ”Yeah no, that’s cool, I didn’t want your help fighting them anyway!” Ratchet said sarcastically, producing his Coyote shotgun. When one of the firebats turned back on him he jet straight up and fired into the demon’s back from above at point blank range. The bat fell to the ground and he landed on top of it with an overhead wrench swing, bashing right into its brains.

The two remaining firebats attacked in a pincer formation, both diving from opposite sides. Ratchet performed the same flipping dodge he had before, but this time the arremer wasn’t going to sit out. The winged demon swooped in to slice into Ratchet, since the lombax was in midair and had already used Clank’s jet, leaving him vulnerable. The arremer’s claws sank deep into Ratchet, so deep in fact that they went right through him altogether as though he weren’t even there! And then Ratchet exploded into a burst of electricity, singing and burning the arremer. MEanwhile, the real Ratchet reappeared against the broken wall, where he fired two bone spikes from his handcannon directly into one of the firebat’s heads. It tumbled out the hole in the wall, turning to ash and leaving its spirit behind in the horde-covered street below.

The arremer screeched, harmed but still very much in the fight, and turned back to Ratchet to point menacingly with its pointed claw. Ratchet grinned in response, and that’s when Death decided to rejoin him from outside. The horseman gave a quick report about having to get out fast (yeah, no duh space brain!) before putting up his guard, ready to take on the arremer and the last firebat together.

”I guess we’ll just have to give up on our killer, then. I’d rather live today to continue to hero tomorrow!” He brandished his wrench like a samurai would their honorable katana. In response the arremer gave a throaty, scratchy laugh, then swooped in again. The pyrobat shot off a fireball from another angle, in order to cut off their movement options. Ratchet sideflipped, throwing his wrench at the bat like a frisbee, magnet-glove ready to call it back to him.




”Come on come on come on!” Daxter complained with the utmost urgency at the civilians, most notably a large, slow moving dragon in a hat. ”You all move like lazy yakows in molasses! Now if it’s not any inconvenience I would really really like not dying today so GET A MOVE ON!”

Once the group had been cleared through, it was the survivors that had taken up refuge in the break room to be escorted. ”Aw man, I HATE escort missions! They never have any sense of urgency and we always end up fighting an army to protect them! Especially that time we had to escort little you, Jak!” Jak just gave Daxter an annoyed look, causing Daxter to mime zipping his mouth shut. Of course, silence never lasted around Daxter, and it was in short supply today as they rounded a corner only to come face to face with a battle. The gunman Jones was engaged with some sort of ghostly wraith dual-wielding swords. It was a blatantly unfair fight as the human couldn’t keep up, but thankfully had the benefit of some sort of empowering dog on his side. Every time the dark barked, Jones was reinvigorated and back into the fray.

Jak was about to leap in to help, but Eddie suddenly found himself engaged in a battle against a zombie that had bust in through the window. That meant more were surely on the way, but it didn’t seem to deter the roadie who jumped straight into the main fray and summoned lightning against their foes with a guitar.

”Whoah! Remind me to book that guy for my next birthday party!” Daxter commented. He suddenly felt the wind of an eco blast fly over his distracted head as Jak fired the blaster at an approaching zombie that nearly grabbed Daxter. ”Gah!”

”Keep your head, Dax! We’re gonna make it through this!” Jak fired a couple more shots at the approaching zombies, the closest ones about to threaten the dog. Jones came to them, ready to high tail it out of there, but the wraith had other plans. It seemed the ghostly apparition could teleport and placed itself between the group and freedom, while the zombies received reinforcements from the stairs.

”Time to clear a pathway. MOVE!” As he spoke, Jak’s muscles bulged and his skin darkened. His eyes became pitch black and dark purplish energy began arcing through his body. He stepped forward, facing the zombies, skeletal warriors, and this new abomination that decided to rip its way through other undead to get to them. He held his hands together in a similar stance to Ryu’s own hadouken and gathered energy together, powerful, potent, dangerous dark eco. ”HURGH!” he cried out, throwing two orbs of dark eco held together by a single arc of power. It would plow through and mow down anything caught in its way, annihilating the small fry enemies in droves. Too powerful, perhaps, as it slammed into the wall of the stairwell and broke it apart, leaving a large hole. Jak reverted back to his normal form and pulled out the scattergun, charging forward. Did his actions give them a new escape route? Or did he just give the horde a new way inside?
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by thedman
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thedman Fanatical Purifier

Member Seen 2 yrs ago

Michael and Franklin

Level 5- (6/50) EXP / Level 4- (10/40) EXP (+2 EXP)
Location: Ancestral Farmland, Land of Adventure ---> Lumbridge, Land of Adventure
Wordcount: 756



The ride back to Lumbridge was, thankfully, uneventful. Michael had, with Franklin's assistance, stumbled into a seat and put his head down, not saying anything during the ride as he tried to get some rest and recover from his injuries. Franklin had also taken the opportunity to rest, watching the scenery go by through the window as they made their way back to Lumbridge. He paid scant attention to the conversations of those around him, simply taking his time to rest and clear his head after the harrowing battle. As they got further onto the road, he closed his eyes, trying to drift off to sleep.

A while later, the two began to stir from their sleep as the monster truck came to a stop, the lights of Lumbridge visible from the windows. Groaning, Michael struggled to get up from his seat, Franklin coming over to help him out of the seat and through the door, taking a moment to unbuckle Baba from his seat and motion for the critter to follow him. As they stepped out of the truck, they were met with a number of the townsfolk gathered outside. One of them offered a cup of water and a blanket to Michael, which he took with some hesitation. As they walked further, Michael looked over the crowd with half-lidded eyes, a look of confusion on his face. "What...what are they doing?"

The pair stopped as the Houndmaster approached the group, Michael looking up from his daze to face him. He gave a slight nod as he congratulated the group. Next, another man approached, offering the group free lodgings at his inn. Michael shot a confused look to Franklin, who simply gave him a shrug. They followed along with the rest of the group to the inn, wasting no time in getting up to a room. Franklin lay Michael down on one of the beds, while Baba simply chose to sit in a corner of the room.

After a few moments, Michael turned his head to face Franklin, who had taken a seat on the other bed on the right side of the room. "...what was that about?"

"They're saying we're heroes. Giving us free stuff for a reward." Franklin replied, looking away from Michael as he took out his two pistols, unloading the nine millimeter and beginning to disassemble it.

"...never heard that one before." Michael mumbled, pausing for a few moments as he stared off into space. "Frank, what the hell are we doing?"

"What do you mean?" He shot Michael a look, before going back to disassembling his pistol, checking if anything needed cleaning.

"Think about it, man...when were we heroes? We're...we're criminals, Frank. We steal. We kill people. And now we're, what? Running around, acting like we're some sort of knights in shining armor?"

Franklin shrugged. "...'cause there's no other way to get home?"

"...what's so good about home, anyways?"

"Oh, come on..." Franklin put his pistol down, looking at Michael directly. "Cut that dramatic shit out, man. What else are we gonna do? Go join Trevor and run around in the desert? Go rob banks, when money don't mean nothing anymore? It's a new world, new rules."

"We're still not heroes. I haven't done anything heroic in my life. These guys...they have all these powers and shit, man, and what do we have? A fancy gun and some..."

"That fancy gun took down some big targets. And if you want powers, just use one of those spirit things. Look..." Franklin leaned forward. "We're the lucky ones. Everyone out there- they're still brainwashed. Under the influence. You wanna be stuck in a world like that?" He took a deep breath. "It don't matter what we used to be. Heroes or not, we're doing this. And if you don't wanna? Then I'll go without you. Hell, if everyone in this group of ours dies or gets brainwashed or whatever, I'm gonna fight that Galeem asshole by myself if I gotta, because I'm not being stuck in this place for the rest of my life."

Michael was silent for several moments. Franklin went back to his pistol, re-assembling it, and placing it and the plasma pistol on the night stand. After a few more moments, he spoke up. "...I don't wanna be stuck here, either."

"Good. Now go to bed, you need to recover. Goodnight." With that, Franklin lied down, closing his eyes. Sleep came quickly for the two, tired after the long fight. Whatever happened tomorrow, they would worry about it then.
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Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Dawnrider
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Dawnrider

Member Seen 7 mos ago



Level: 4 (39 -> 41/40) LEVEL UP! ---> 5 (1/50) | 4 (9 -> 12/40)
Location: Lumbridge - Entrance -> Great Ton Pu Inn -> Guild Hall | RCPD HQ - Main Hall -> Exterior; Market Avenue (Center Path)
Word Count: 980 (+2 EXP) | 1328 (+3 EXP)

Stress Level: 95 -> 80 -> 0

(Level up TBD)


The party stepped out of the crash-parked monster truck and onto the streets of Lumbridge where they with an appropriately warm, but subdued hero’s welcome. Word travelled fast, apparently. It was nice and all, but for Hat Kid, it hardly compared to her time as a movie star on the moon. Admittedly, however, gigs here definitely paid better (monetarily that is; not in Time Pieces), and she was almost certainly treated better--cautiously encouraged to face danger rather than being actively placed in it. Furthermore, the studio never fed or accommodated her while under their employ, unlike the people of modest means here in Lumbridge who could still spare a room and meal for a heroic entourage in spite of the need for business. With the former in mind, she was going to have to get in touch with a lawyer with whom to discuss and possibly file on an entire naughty list of complaints about fair, safe labor practices and innumerable violations thereof some time.

The child quietly took the blanket/s and water offered to her with a nod of thanks. Before making her way straight to her free room--courtesy of the courteous innkeeper--she made a slight detour past the job board and stripped off quest flier at random without looking at it to take back with her. A minute or two later, she found herself in a quaint, but cozy room with a single bed smaller than what she was used to (queen size); closer to a reasonable size for her (twin). Before she could lay down in it though, there was something she had to take care of. She planted herself in the seat at the desk, dipped the quill, and started jotting...

‘Day 2…

Turns out *r-real* ‘quests-s’ aren’t as f-f-fun as they m-make them s-s-seem in ga-games; a lot more s-s-stressful than I imagined-d. S-still s-sh-shakey, h-hard to w-wr-write. I th-think-k-k I n-need to lie d-d-down.’


Without specifically saying as much, she thought to herself that she would stick to the various sources of fictional media and entertainment (i.e. games, movies, novels, etc.) to satisfy her quest fix from now on after tonight’s events… unless there was more to be done here. She didn’t exactly check to see if there were any more jobs offering the relevant hourglass reward while she was busy using one of the fliers as a spare page for her placeholder diary entry until she could get back to her ship to copy her ramblings into her journal proper. There was, of course, some symbolic catharsis to be had in venting one’s flustered disappointment and frustrations with the very thing that caused them onto what was essentially an advertisement for more of it… or maybe she just needed to sleep it off.

With that last item on her daily agenda fulfilled, she decided to do just that, but not without first peeking into the footlocker to see if her luck with pulling spare change from the toy chest in her room would follow her here. Whether this little experiment succeeded or failed, she would try again once more tomorrow. She put out all the candles in the room, set her hat aside on the bedside nightstand, tucked herself in tightly and blissfully waited for the next sunrise as she let this outgoing day fall away into the past.




Without the unnecessible noise and abruptness of her ship’s morning alarm system, Hat Kid woke much more calmly and gently than usual, cutely yawning and stretching as she sat up to greet the sunrise. By force of habit (read lack of needing to) she neglected to draw the curtains closed. Good for her being up early enough to not be harshly glared awake by the pre-noon sun; there’s little else besides that to make one feel less like getting out of bed. Contrarily, she felt rejuvenated; reinvigorated; relieved of all the stress brought upon her from the night before. It was, frankly, a miracle that she didn’t have any nightmares from it. At least nobody died yesterday (that she knew of), which alone was a sizable step up from the day before that. Perhaps the Heroes of Light could keep their good fortune going (or, at the very least, come up with an official team name).

Kid made her way out of bed at a comfortable pace and proceeded down to the Guild Hall to see about what came next for them. By now she had figured out the same thing surely everyone did: what they defeated last night wasn’t one of Galeem’s thirteen guardians. The threat they faced on the farmsteppe, while formidable, didn’t seem quite big enough to fit such a role, and that weird wave of cleansing darkness from before didn’t happen this time. Of course, wouldn’t you know it, the Guildmaster conveniently failed to mention the first half of that observation to them until now. Figures. They should have known better than to expect a shady cloaked figure to be candid with them about much of anything.

’Whatever,’ she more or less thought to herself before tuning out the deliberation. She then caught herself idly glancing back at the job board, prompting her to pull out her flier and closely examine both to double-check and make sure there was nothing else of interest or critical importance for her, folding the paper and putting it away once she confirmed as much one way or the other. Afterwards, she wandered over to the spirit-littered table and drew three from the pile--a Foreman, a Scarecrow, and a Sleeper’s Dream--skipping the courtesy of asking if anyone else would mind her taking them. She eyed each of them for a brief moment before haphazardly smashing them together in her wee hands, curious and somewhat eager to see what they would yield for her after having seen everyone else do it this whole time...




For lack of anything better to do (and not wanting to run in to the creature again), Banjo and Kazooie set off on their own to search for more clues… or the killer--whichever came first. Some might have advised them against going alone with a serial killer roaming about, but as they would remind any objectors, they were a pair; they had that part covered. As far as they were concerned, they were never alone… not that it helped Louis, sadly (who, unbeknownst to them, was actually fine). They kept Blazermate’s testimony in mind as far as who and what to look out for. They had an idea for how they might combat his ‘camera freeze’, should Banjo fail to avoid it, but without Wonderwing, they were admittedly minus anything with which to “attack a ghost.” Though, they were somewhat doubtful that he was, well… that. What would a ghost need a camera for? In any case, they would figure out what to do when they arrived at the problem.

Of course, even after searching whatever rooms they could get into (that wasn’t the library), they encountered a whole lot of nothing, surprisingly. After a bit of backtracking, they somehow even ended up a couple of steps behind Ratchet, Clank, and Blazer in their aimless search. It got to a point where every time the trio would turn a corner, enter, or leave a room, the duo would end up doing the inverse of the same, never once entering the other’s sight. All the while they never found anything they were looking for, and finding things was generally what they were good at. Although, perhaps 'things' and 'people' were a different animal when it came to search efforts…

They deliberated on this briefly and decided to discontinue their search around the time the vulpine came rushing through the halls, opting to follow him back to see what his hurry was. It turned out he had the instructions for how to exorcise the 'Preta', as it came to be called. Banjo decided, in spite of Kazooie, that he wasn't feeling as prideful as Fortune about getting back at it, letting the decided volunteers go ahead without them while they held down the main hall with those that remained. Banishing demons wasn't something they knew how to contribute to anyhow, and it gave the ursine as good an excuse as he was content with to kick back for a moment, however brief it would be.




The minute their makeshift barricade gave way, Banjo rammed a cluster of undead back with the top side of a tipped over table, pinning them against the first solid surface they made contact with while Kazooie took their heads while a quick, sharp rotary slice of her wings. The severed heads went airborne, Banjo drew the Cricket Bat knocked them indiscriminately into the invading crowd, shattering and splattering a few of the lesser creatures struck, but otherwise doing little to stop the horde spilling into the station. Guarding himself with the bat, Banjo threw a handful of them overhead as they rolled in, Kazooie breaking them off with a single forceful beak jab. What neither of them knew was that the Antenora among them would angrily, unwaveringly charge them, bowling over the Caina Banjo kicked at him and swinging madly. This caught Banjo slightly off guard, and unable to raise his guard in time, he was sent tumbling back with a fresh gash in his hyde.

The Antenora followed up with another series of cleaver strikes, Banjo this time dodging the first set, blocking the second, leaving a sizable score mark in the paddle, and jumping out of the way of the third. Kazooie then caught an intended ambush attack by a Hideous just in time to duck and jump (in that order) over its incoming blade swings, which instead struck the Antenora, drawing its aggressed attention to the passed over flyer. A Caina then came at them dragging its scythe behind it into an upward crescent swing that Banjo sidestepped in a pivot while grabbing it by one of its arms and pulling it into a headlock. In the same motion, Kazooie wrested its scythe from it and hurled it with all of her strength into the chest of one of the Imp’s that had been harassing the group while Banjo ran with the lesser demon in his grasp.

Both animals swung hard at a rising angle, Kazooie to lift themselves, and Banjo to knock the demons into the air for use as kicking/stepping stones. The maneuver got Banjo onto the demon’s back by its wings, whereupon it thrashed and swatted about to buck the ursine off. He loosened his grip and went airborne, but with the aim to have Kazooie drive them forward in an aerial loop with the Accept-Lance in hand to skewer the Hideous and whatever else happened to be in their path.

For as hard as everyone fought, even with the steady arrival of reinforcements and Blazer’s ever helpful zombie domination/crowd control, they were very obviously getting nowhere trying to brute force the horde back. After a minute a positive update to their situation came in the form of a hasty update by Jill who had intuited the exorcism crew’s success, which meant they could finally get the hell out of there. The bad news was that the teleporter wouldn’t be doing them that favor as they had hoped, so they would have to find another way. The front door was definitely out, especially with the arrival of a hulking demonic mech, which left them the obvious first alternative of beelining for the back while V held the machine at bay.

Kazooie trailed on foot not far behind Fox, bounding after him through the shattered window and onto the perimeter wall. From there they managed to glimpse a second-long look at the path beyond before having to move aside for Nightmare to hole punch an exit for the rest. Survivors promptly poured out through the opening and onto the street while the line of fighters bottlenecked what bit of horde dregs could get through. The duo Buster dropped from the wall onto the nearest creature to a civilian and joined in on fending them off, punching, kicking, pecking, swiping, and batting down zombie and demon alike until the bat snapped and folded at its center where it was previously cut.

Nero's assault against the greater demon brought down the station's foundations onto the horde, further slowing their advance. This provided the group with a larger window of opportunity to continue their escape, as they would do while knocking off the stray horde number that followed. Banjo flung the loosely connected halves of the bat at a couple of undead and took off on Kazooie's back alongside the others. They came upon a proverbial fork in the road where they were left with a snap decision to make on which route to take. Between the visible danger on the left and the INvisible threat on the right (as dictated by Howard), the answer was more or less obvious for the duo.

"You sods can all go whichever way you like," the breegull bluntly interjected in her casually, characteristically, unnecessarily rude manner as her contribution to the collective decision making process. "Banjo and I are going up the middle," she added, head gesturing to her ursine partner still mounted on her back. Banjo nodded in agreement, but also to reassure the others that they were good for it. They were among the only ones in the entire group who could fly, which made heights less of a challenge and meant that they could alter routes or go airborne at will if for any reason they had to. No lesser creature that didn't share their mobility would dare follow them up. As soon as everyone else had their headings (or sooner), the duo would set off posthaste on their chosen path.
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by Stekkmen
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Stekkmen Head shotted.

Member Seen 3 yrs ago

Magnumus Agoston, Centurion.

Level 3 - (03/40) EXP (will level up and count words later, still,)
Location: Lumbridge
Word Count: 720




Centurion parked his drill kart and was pleased with the reception. Agoston had spent many days in the spotlight, he had been called hero many a time, and he excelled infront of an audience. Needless to say Centurion accepted their modest thanks and gifts with a practiced, modest confidence that maximised goodwill for both parties. He had done it many times before and hopefully would go on to do it many more times.

He would rest shortly but in the meantime, a meal wouldn't be so bad. Unfortunately his allies mostly didn't share the same sense of victory. Most of them were shaken by the experience. True- that was a bad time overall. Centurion himself had lost his cool. Then again, he always responded with Fight, rather than Flight, when he was scared. Scared was a strange term for it, since Agoston never considered himself the type to be scared. There was nothing particularly horrifying about the creatures he faced. This whole land, everything- it was all artificial. No matter how disgusting or cosmic the threats themselves may be, all of them were conquered by Galeem. They don't truly exist anymore. Hollow shadows drudged up to plague the land. Galeem's influence was truly the most terrifying thing about this, but every day they made more progress still. The Land of Adventure was free of an evil influence, and he could sleep soundly tonight knowing he did a good deed. But he understood why some of his comrades weren't so pleased. Some of them seem to have come from lands that did not know the strife that Agoston's did. They weren't used to seeing horrific things. Those that were used to shocking experiences most likely didn't see themselves as heroes, and thus did not rejoice. But they were all independant. They would all cope in their different ways. Long gone were the days of Centurion gathering his troops around a feasting table and rousing their spirits with an inspiring speech. His authority meant nothing here. And why would it?

Agoston would still do his best. He spent the next hour or two at the tavern, eating and drinking to his hearts content, retelling the story of their victory over and over again to those who would listen. He painted his allies as unflinching bastions of courage and recounted their brave deeds during the fight with vigor and sincerity. Truth be told, he didn't need to do much exaggerating. The evil they faced was terrible, and the valor of their deeds were great.

For the first time in a long time, Agoston went up to a safe, warm room and changed out of his battle worn armor and into a tunic and trousers. He glanced at his new, dragon-boxer influenced appearence and shook his head, smirking a little. The deep scars on his bare arms were just as much memories of victories past than the bizarre influences upon his appearance now. He wondered if he would ever look normal again...still, newfound strength and power wasn't exactly the worst thing in the world.

It was late- later than he preferred to stay up. Bad habits that would need to be broken. It felt like a lifetime since he got here- but truth be told, it wasn't that long ago, was it? He was on the verge of his greatest victory at the time. Would his army remember what happened to them? Were they out there right now, wandering the wastes? If they succeeded in their quest, and Agoston was sent home, right to where he was, he wasn't sure what he would do. Was he really just supposed to take the Jarl's Keep and pretend like none of this had ever happened? Probably. Why wouldn't he?

While Agoston may not have been shaken by the events of tonight, there was a different kind of fear corroding his soul away. He lay in bed, the lanterns off, and stare up at the dark ceiling. A kind of fear that was hard to shake. The kind that beckoned Agoston in, the one that he couldn't- or rather, wouldn't- ignore. The kind he couldn't shake off with a charismatic smile and a pounding of his fist against his chest.

The fear that he was small, and the universe was big, and his many victories meant very little at all.
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