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In another life, at another time, the small vampire girl would have melted Tristan's cold heart. Her adorable demeanor, the naive request for help, the cute way she seemed so shy about asking for his help. Even the the almost funny way she seemed to completely disregard her own self-preservation by standing under the burning sun as she waited for his response. In fact, he recalled in some previous lives having his own children that acted as so.

That was just it though. Like everything else, he'd seen it all before.

Looking over to the demon woman that seemed to be little Nimoa's friend, he lifted up his hand to point to the parasol that the child-like vampire had left behind. Valkira, after all, was still standing next to the rubble that had been a fountain where the umbrella had been left, so it would be more convenient if she brought it over. In the mean time, he would get down on his knees, bringing him at just about eye level with the girl.

Placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to pat out the embers that were transforming into burning flesh, he would begin his disappointing speech. "Listen 32, I know firsthand that the Sun can be detrimental to you and your race, but I've got bad news for you. You see, while standing too long out in it's direct light might kill you over time as it's doing right now," Tristan said, watching as her other shoulder began to ignite as well and switching to patting that fire out before it grew further. "The opposite is true for other species like myself. If the Sun goes out, over time it will have negative effects on the world. Things like plants and trees will die out, species will go extinct. A really bad time for most people involved. Not to mention that the Sun is larger than this world, only appearing small because it's so far away, so there would be no possible way to put the thing out without some serious magic."

When Valkira arrived with the parasol, Tristan would take it and hold it above the girl's head to help prevent further damage from the Sun. "It may suck to hear it, but it's best that you give up on your dreams. Think smaller so you can achieve something more possible and avoid living with years of regret over wasted effort," he finished, blunt and to the point.
Hidden 4 mos ago Post by The Irish Tree
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Valkira smiled the harshest of realities often dash children's dreams. Though with that said Valkira knew she would bounce back stronger than ever. "Fear not child the greatest of plans never survive first contact with the enemy" You failed this time but you will come back with a new one that will wow them all." She said with a smile wiping the tears from her eyes. She had a soft spot for children and she knew a few times where she purposely let heroes pass due to children by faking defeat.
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Hidden 4 mos ago Post by Guess Who
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As the small vampire girl began to break into tears, Tristan couldn't help but scowl at the sound, even replying to it with an irritated low growl. He hated hearing children cry. Who didn't? Just watching her wail before him made the hero want to walk away as far as he could from Nimoa and find a much quieter place to wait for his companions' return.

However, despite the countless years transforming the hero into a jaded asshole, there was a reason that fate had chosen him of all people to be said hero. Despite the hardships and cruelty he had faced, he still did the right thing when destiny called upon him. "Alright 32, let's hear this new plan of yours. Maybe I can help with this one. Especially if it involves punching a bad guy or fetching some magical artifact. I've gotten quite good at those." Even if I've gotten tired of them showing up so often.
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Nimoa was surprised at the encouragement she recieved, sniffling as she choked down sadness to wipe her tears away. She would pump her arms up and down to psyche herself up, looking raring to go once more as Mr. Hero asked what her new plan was. With renewed confidence, Nimoa wiped the last of the tears from her eyes, proudly declaring: "If we can't kill the sun, then the only answer is that we make vampires able to survive in sunlight!" she would say, proudly nodding at her newfound plan, which, was admittedly significantly more feasible than fighting the sun with a pail of water. But only a little bit.

The little vampire would beam, spirits completely rekindled. "That's right! This should have been my Plan A to start with! After all, even if I kill the sun and plant peppercorns, humans still sleep at night, and vampires during the day. But if Vampires can go to the beach, tan, and enjoy a picnic, then we'll be liked just like humans are!" she said, clearly exuberant at the idea of being able to stay up during the day. "It took me months of training just to stay awake. I missed so many midnight breakfasts...but if I can do it, anyone can!" she said, crouching down and then jumping up, tiny bat wings flapping as she hovered for a moment. "Let's go let's go! Let's go find an alchemist! And a bad guy for Mr. Hero to punch!" she said, before floating back down.

"...Erm...let's see...what's an alchemisty place for an Alchemist to be..." Nimoa would say, sitting back down on the fountain and rummaging through her batpack. Finding a rather aged worn map, she would furrow her brow as she looked it over. "Um...I don't think this town is named this anymore...a-and I could have sworn this forest was a city on the way here..." she said, nervously glancing over the clearly aged and weathered map. She was getting nowhere with that antique that was clearly older than her. In fact, it looked older than the brickwork on some of the houses. Folding it up in frustration, she would say: "W-Well, its fine! We can ask around. I promise that we'll find you someone to punch, Mister Hero! Oh, um, its a little weird if I keep calling you Mister Hero...do you mind if I ask your name?" she said, going from very excited to timid and dignified as she bowed in asking for Tristan's name. She didn't want a real hero to think she was a country batkin, after all.
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Hidden 3 mos ago Post by Guess Who
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Already, Tristan was beginning to have second thoughts. Vampires were dangerous creatures, capable of spreading death and destruction where ever one went, let alone an army. He had defeated enough Vampire Lords and would-be undead conquerors to know that giving them free reign on this world's surface could cause an untold number of problems for this world's inhabitants without the checks and balances already set in place. Still, he had already given his word that he would help, and pulling out now would only make him look as foolish to these two as he knew he was. He hoped that the existence of girls like Nimoa meant that the majority of her kind would be more like this rather than the Nosferatu and Dracula-kind. With his luck though, he was sure that wasn't the case.

"You can all me Tristan." It's the only thing I seem to remember clearly at this point. "Now, why don't we try looking for a cartographer or such somewhere in town for a more updated map. Going into some place dangerous with outdated information is likely to get us ki- in a lot of trouble." Even if she was a vampire, the hero thought it best to avoid putting such morbid thoughts as death into her head. He'd gotten away with mentioning death a few moments before, but he had enough experience with kids to know that reminding them that life on Earth was limited and one day they all would find themselves breathing their last was bound to cause more tears. Except him of course. He was going to outlive them all, much to his chagrin.
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Tamara stalked through the town, as she moved with purpose; from store to store, shop to shop, she ghosted through the explosion-based chaos, and snipped and snapped items off ranks, shelves, and hooks. It would seem, normal people (note: those without demon blood) didn't take all that to kind to random, distressing explosive interruptions. "Noobs," scoffed the Samurai, as a woman sprawled past her. "Let's see..." Tamara pulled a twenty-foot length of rope off a shelf, and tossed it into an oaken barrel filled with sunflower petals on a wheelbarrow. "Now, I need to find a kitchen," she says, dragging the barrel behind her toward the inn.

Upon reaching the inn, Tamara wheeled the barrel into the kitchen, and rolled through the herb cabinet. "Ah, good ol' garlic," she says, taking the whole stock, and tossing them into the air. A kitchen knife in hand, she did a flurry of slashes, and chopped pieces of garlic fell into the barrel; settling upon the rope and sunflowers. "And, now, we cook..." Tamara put the barrel onto a pot shelf, above a rolling fire, and filled it with water. "O' Lord, Keeper of Us All, here my plea," she placed her hands on the barrel and closed her eyes.

"For a shepherd shall I be, for thee, my Lord, for thee. Thine power descending forth from Thy hand to me, so upon mine feet I may swift carry out Thine command. Ferrying a river flowing merrily, and teeming with sinful souls shall it ever be, for thee, my Lord, for thee. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I create this, blessed it be..."

Suddenly, the barrel, water, garlic, sunflower petals, and the rope were pulling into a blinding light, and burst into a synthesized item:

[Sunshine-blessed Rope of Vampiric Restraint]

Held in her hands, the rope infused with the oak wood of the barrel, the herbal essence of the garlic, the symbolic presence of the sun(flower petals), and the blessing of the Holy One above, pulled taut between her fingers, as she tired a noose for a lasso. Readying her tool, Tamara found herself a stable, and commandeered herself a horse while nobody was fit enough to really pay attention. Spurring the horse on, she rode for the town square, and launched the lasso out, as she came across Nimoa.

"Hiyah!" Tamara commanded, urging the horse on with it's new payload, as Nimoa was yanked, and all but cartoonishly flailing through the air. Broadly, the Cambion grinned, as she raced to the town gates.

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Nimoa would nod, smiling as she came to know Tristan's name, saying: "Okay! Let's go find a cartographer then, Tristan! Valkira!" She would practically skip along as she walked, smile carrying her all the way to the local Cartographers' Guild-

Or, all the way into literally being roped back into danger. Confusion swept through her mind as she was yanked back at an incredible speed. Nearly throwing up her lunch from the whiplash, Nimoa would see herself literally sailing past Trist and Valkira. Feabily, she attempted to reach out, arm restrained by the rope. The more she struggled, the weaker she felt. Whatever that rope was, it shone with the brilliance of the sun, and weakened her just as much. Thankfully, her parasol was poised above her head, locked in place by the lasso. Less thankfully though, Nimoa found herself cycling through each of her racial skills that might be able to help her out of this pinch, only to find that the rope completely nullified her vampire powers. As she realized that she was well and truly trapped, tears began to pour from her eyes, sailing back as she was dragged. A single word choked out from her throat as she bounced against the ground, doing her best to not just get dragged along the ground.

A single word that stung at the heart-strings of hero and demon alike:

"Help!"
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No, this was not the first time that Tristan had ever seen a kidnapping. Perhaps most people could not claim to have experience in such matters, but living countless lifetimes in a diverse set of bodies made it difficult for one to ever not live through a rare occurrence like this at least once. Despite this though, the hero stood flabbergasted, yes flabbergasted, that anyone would have the audacity to try and kidnap his newly acquired companion right in front of him.

For a decisecond that is. Long enough for him to blink his eyes once, take in the situation, and quickly evaluate the best course of action before he jumped into action. "Nimoa, keep that parasol above your head! I'm on my way!" he shouted as the vampiric young girl was dragged away. Racing after her at faster than normal human speeds, he would watch as the horse continued to put distance between him and the kidnapping victim, though catching up on his own two feet was not his intention.

Upon reaching the town gates, Tristan unsheated his sword and brought it down on the restraints that kept a horse tied to an incoming wagon. "What do you think you're doing?" the driver called out, shocked that anyone would be stupid enough to steal a horse not only in front of its owner, but in front of the town guard as well.

"Hero business. I need her now much more than you do," Tristan said, climbing into the saddle and giving chase. He was sure that Nimoa would scold him for doing something so unheroic as stealing, but he was confident he could use the excuse that he was borrowing the horse to quell her ire. For now, he was more concerned in making sure that she would have the opportunity to be mad at him.
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Valkira sighed no rest for the wicked in the end. She chased after the vampire girl with speed that wasn't human which was ok she wasn't human so it was all legal ok! Her blade brandished in a flourish this was the kind of heroics she dreamed of long ago before the the fire burned everything away. This was what her dreams was about to be the hero to be the great knight of shining armor but there was no time to think about that as she ran after the hero and the vampire girl. She refused to let her once chance to be a hero to someone waste away no she wanted to taste victory just once.
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Hidden 25 days ago Post by Suku
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Valkira scoffed at the result but decided that maybe going off on her own wouldn't be ideal all things considered if that person was after the child than following them would give her better access to her in the future. With a grumble she followed behind keeping her distance but making sure that they remained in sight. It wasnt like she wanted to make sure the kid was safe or anything. Yah she was just following them to make sure she got her revenge in the end yes that was it.
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"Wow, I can't believe anywhere outside of the Demon's Realm has Double-Deviled Eggs," Charlotte would say as she carried C-3 in a bucket, letting her slimy companion take a short nap after that meal. They'd had a nice little distraction after their argument in the aqueducts, so now was the time to relax. In fact, she had actually forgotten about Tristan's dumb dull fish eyes for just a moment. of course, seeing his red-head again would remind her that she was still (technically) number two of the party, and seeing two figures move with him peeved her a smidge. She got a say in who could join and hog glory from herself and her glorious displays of...being glorious. While maintaining a firm, yet balanced grip on the bucket, she would approach and peek behind a building, only to see Tristan holding hands with a small girl...who seemed to be in the process of being devoured by a large bat.

"Thank you for agreeing to help me, Mister Tristan. I promise that once we find that alchemist, I won't bother you ever again. U-Unless you want me to. Or if it would cause you bodily harm if I were to not bother you." Nimoa would say, finally taking off her backpack once they were in the shade, allowing Tristan to see all the junk fall free from her backpack. While Nimoa scrambled to pick it all up as she made a sound akin to an embarrassed squeak, he would see the contents were several pouches of blood, presumably animal blood since they all had a label proudly stating: "100% Non-Human! For the last bit of humanity in you!". In addition, a small blacksmith's hammer that was made of some strange pink metal clanged, smashing the cobbled stone that it fell upon. A bundled change of clothes was also present, and beside it was a book titled: "How to Make Friends: An Undead Monstrosity's Guide to Small Talk and Friendship".

Nimoa would scramble it all into her bag, stuffing it in without care as her face got a tinge pink from embarrassment. "Y-You um...didn't see anything." she said, scrambling into the shop before Tristan could get a word in.

Charlotte would hum, smirking as she suddenly appeared behind Tristan. Smugly, she would place her chin above his shoulder and ask: "So, the hero's into little girls? Or maybe its your secret incredibly adorable love child? Either way, vampires are a-okay with me. How's your day been, by the by?" she would ask, taking a step back and bumping into Valkira. "Hey, watch it you...hey wait..." she would say, pointing at Valkira. "You're from that...town...that C-3 is still mad I burnt down. Midboss, right? You look like a midboss."
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Meat. Meat. Meat. All Charlotte eats is meats.

Exasperated, a well-disguised Obsidian Slime sat at a dinning table of 99% meat -- specifically: a roasted pheasant in a bed of gravy, potatoes, and carrots; a rack of lamb with sweet onion glaze; a rank of baby back ribs soaking in honey barbecue sauce; a hunk of ham with a honey glaze wrapped in brown sugar bacon; a stuffed fat Lasagna Alla Bolognese; and, two dozen Double-Deviled Deviled Eggs.

...and, 1% of C-3's Garden Salad with a lime vinaigrette.

A sigh escaped her, as she ate her modest meal and Charlotte consumed a small farm. For a bit, she entertained the idea of small talk, before surrendering the idea; there was nothing to discuss, except their relationship strain. As she pushed a bit of lettuce around, she thought about the trifle in the sewers, and the dust-up before that. Charlotte's emotional maturity was zero, or, at least, as advanced as an elementary schooler.

It was getting harder and harder to entertain her; even if she was her fondest treasure, it was emotionally draining to forgive and forget. Just once, she wanted to feel more than needed... wanted, perhaps. Desired. It wasn't a thought a Slime should have, but, C-3 wasn't a normal Slime – she was an Obsidian Slime given a name, a purpose, and a destiny. However, Charlotte seemed to see her as a weapon under the guise of a friend, and something to wield in her quest to clapback at her father.

As their dinner wrapped, C-3 decided to sleep off the issue, and retired to a bucket of all beddings; Charlotte's best effort, she conceded. Into her mind, she retreated, and soundly slept...

...sorta.


"Such wasteful emotion. Heiress mine, thou still wants, and yet, refuses to take. How hast thou gone so far under the wastrel waif that hath such a sickening hold of thee?"

"All I can do is follow my emotions. Is that not your teachings?"

"Such bravery thou hath to speak so plainly. Thou art not mistaken, however. Such art mine teachings. And, thou hath followed them well. However..."

There was a pregnant pause. A stillness, wrought of doubt and question...

"Thou shalt come to learn in time, shouldst thou survive the coming storm; mine Heiress's fragility in troubling waters shalt be put to the sword's test."

C-3 knew better than to ask what that meant. No answer would come from her explosive liege. He spoke only in riddle and nuance. In her waking hours, she was meant to find the answers...


As C-3 stirred, she heard Charlotte talking about the last dishes to their, supposedly, shared dinner, and bubbled a sigh. Pretending to sleep, she didn't want to deal with anything, in the least. However, Charlotte was carrying her like some common pail of water without emotion or thought; perhaps, in this way, that's all Charlotte did see her as -- her eyes ever set forward on her personal future. However, when Charlotte crashed into Valkira, C-3 used the momentum to slosh herself out the bucket, and splatter across the ground.

Forming a rudimentary body, the Obsidian Slime slorped off; leaving foot-plops of desiccated earth behind, as she devoured the ground of all valuable minerals and plant life.

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As Nimoa accidentally began to empty her backpack of belongings and the somber hero helped her collect the fallen items, a sudden pain began to intensify behind his brow. Idiot senses tingling. A singularity of stupidity is approaching. Really it was the slight stench of brimstone and scorched cloth that he detected on the air as Charlotte approached, a smell that caused mysterious migraines every now and then for whatever reason. He knew it was probably just a placebo effect and that the demon princess didn't actually set off any sort of sixth sense he had, but there did seem to be a correlation between intense pain and Charlotte's meddling so he didn't yet rule out that leveling up had gained him a new passive ability to sense danger.

"I only just got here yesterday. I know heroes often have the ability to lure attractive women, but not even I would have had time to make a child with a vampire woman in that little time. And I don't think being a lolicon would allow me to keep my hero status, let alone all the moral lines it would cross," Tristan said, letting Charlotte rest her head on his shoulder without complaint. He was too preoccupied with making sure Nimoa had left one of her belongings. With a sigh, he replied back to the princess' last question. "Fine. Just fought a bloodthirsty monster hunter. Got a new shield. Nothing spectacular."
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