[IC] World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

[DracoLunaris]

wordcount: 408 (+1)
Location: Forbidden Kingdom - Esaka’s High Tier
Bowser Jr: Level 15 EXP: //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////(337/150)
Rika: Level 12 EXP: /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////(173/110)

After getting some help in making their winding tales and anecdotes make sense for those lacking all of the context they didn’t even think to add, the kids ended up nodding in agreement with the idea of taking down the Consul. Better they take her down now instead of waiting for her to get the jump on them, after all.

Given that they couldn’t do that now because the rest of the teams were off to risk blowing their cover in the tournament matches, they might not get to act on that however. Self confident as the kids were, it wasn’t like they thought they could two vs one a Consul.

”I mean, getting into a really rough spot like that would be a way to get an Interlink going like Clover’s parents said it would” Jr halfheartedly started to suggest, but he didn’t really think it was worth the risk. Or, as Rika put it ”No. That’s silly”

Which left them with the questions of what they were going to do today, which was helpful answered by the call from the UN to come participate in their new ‘powerstone games’

”Power stone? Wasn’t that that cool treasure that we fought that… bone… guy in the dead zone tree for…” Rika recalled with a furrowed brow, before siad brows rose sharply and she jabbed a finger at her brother as she remembered ”which you then lost!”

”Bringing the ceiling down on his head was a good plan! It's not my fault the gross monsters showed up before we could dig it out!” Jr retorted, hands thrown up in frustration, before pointing out ”And hey, look, it doesn't matter, because we can just go and win some now instead”

Rika immediately perked up at the idea, before furrowing her brow and kicked her feet as she remembered ”But its a tournament with people watching”

”Sure, but, like, way less people, n they’re not gonna be super invested either”

”Hmmm. I guessssss. Plus there’ll be treasure so. sure” she said, not sounding that committed at first, but finishing it with a resolute ”Yeah! Lets do it”

---

As it would turn out, they weren't the only ones expected to find Juri already there and making a scene when they showed up.

From off by their entrance point Jr called out a friendly (if questioning) ”Hey Juri! Where’ve you been hiding?” while Rika gave her a big gauntlet handed wave.

[Yankee]

Winterhold College - School of Mensis/Aurelian Nexus

Word Count: 2199 (+3 exp)
Ace - Level: 9 - Total EXP: 516/90
Level 7 Heismay (55/70)
_{@Lugubrious@Yankee}

After stepping into the next room and getting an eyeful of yet more bodies arranged in what he assumed was some kind of dark intent, Ace turned his head to look away from them. Of course the rows of deceased scholars -or students- lined the walls, so after a moment the hunter turned his eyes up to the dark ceiling instead. He almost suggested just turning around and gambling with whatever the next random room would be, but it would be pretty irresponsible not to check the place out in case it had any hints on getting out of this labyrinth. Plus he was not keen on splitting up in case Heismay disagreed with just saying 'nope' and leaving this one alone.

I take back anything I said about this being my lucky day, he thought to himself. He'd seen more horrific scenes of dead and undead over his stint with the Seekers than he had in his entire life prior (though to be fair, the creatures of creepy stories were pure fiction in his world), but it was particularly bad lately.

"It doesn't really help, but at least they must have been transported here like that," Ace said, expression pinched. "The last room too. Couldn't have been... uh, recent."

Technically not true, but the alternatives were much more terrible to think about. The Cadet would stick with his first thought, given so far everything they'd killed in the college had turned to ashes.

Eventually Ace tapped at the scoutfly cage affixed to his coat. The little insects flittered out and flew a circle around the room. Normally they were more useful in bigger spaces, but if there were any hidden monsters already here waiting to ambush them from the dark at least the Seekers would get a heads up. They briefly buzzed around the hell hound, and after a moment of wondering if they'd be able to get it tag along with them Ace glanced down to Heismay with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Where do we even start?"

Heismay remained quiet for a moment as he watched the scoutflies flutter around, until he felt reasonably sure that their aimless meandering meant that no active threats were nearby. Of course, he could only feel so comfortable in a room full of tastelessly arranged cadavers, but the eugief kept a stiff upper lip as he approached one of the seated mummies carefully. “Considering that the slain turn to ash in this world, perhaps these bodies are more akin to ‘props’ placed here along with the College, rather than true remains.”

After entering the corpse’s hypothetical attack range, he paused for a moment, then moved closer. With little more than dry bones and skin like paper, these bodies didn’t rot or smell, at least. Since they lacked any kind of muscule, he reasoned that only magic could animate them rather than any lingering remnants of life, and he didn’t get as strong a sense of magic in this place as he did the Forgotten Commune. Slowly, he extended his hand. “As morbid as this is, these unfortunates may still yield clues about this place’s true nature.” He gingerly pried the instrument in the corpse’s fingers from its petrified deathgrip.

When he got a better look at the thing, Heismay blinked. In his hand he held a toothbrush, crafted from wood and hog bristles. It seemed like all the dead scholars in here had one. Confused, the diminutive eugief peered through the bars of the cage on the dead man’s head to inspect his teeth. Metal braces gleamed faintly in the flickering firelight. As he lingered by the corpse, pondering the meaning of his discovery, Heismay became faintly aware of an unexpected smell. After a moment he picked up a squat, disc-shaped can the size of his palm, containing a mixture of powders with a quite unidentifiable odor. It smelled a little animal, a little chemical, a little salty, and a little burned. Yet, something of that nature wasn’t totally unknown to Heismay’s Renaissance-era world. “Tooth…powder?” Quite baffled, Heismay looked around the room, spotting more canisters he hadn’t noticed before. What was the connection between ritual sacrifice and dental hygiene…?

"Is that what's in these?" Ace asked, nudging one of the tins in another section of the room. After the scoutflies returned to their cage the hunter had followed Heismay's lead in giving the area a look around. If there was a connection, Ace didn't see it yet.

So far he didn't see much of anything that might clue them in on navigating the college, or even that might prove useful in other ways. He certainly wasn't about to recommend using any of the brushes or powders here after all. Of course if the rows of corpses (props or not) weren't very forthcoming with useful information, there was still the lone body that sat separate from the rest to check.

Ace walked over to it, noting the robes the man wore. This was the only clothed corpse in the room, so even leaving its special seat aside it was probably fair to say this person had been more important than the others. "Probably the leader of this group?" Ace mused aloud, looking between the deceased in front of him and the auditorium-like rows of the others. "I guess a lecturer, or... more like the head of a cult?"

He murmured something about the creepiness of it all before getting a closer look to see if the head of the school had any more differences to note. When he did, though, his magic sense began to tingle, not overwhelming but still strong and bothersome enough to give him pause. Although he couldn’t see anything, there was something anomalous about this corpse in particular.

After a moment of hovering Ace took a few steps backward, opting to trust his gut on this one. If he touched the body it might summon another set of monsters like the ritual monuments in the last room had. Even if this one didn't have the same dark atmosphere, there was definitely still something strange going on.

The Cadet looked over at Heismay. "Did you find anything else? I'm not seeing anything that looks important around this guy... and I feel like maybe touching him would be a bad idea."

He gave the eugief sort of a hapless shrug, his eyes flickering towards the door they came through, which was the only one they could see. It might have just been a cursory look around but they'd still done a little investigating, so now Ace figured it would be fine to broach moving right on. "Wanna try our luck with the next room?"

Though he lacked any kind of magic aversion, and was in fact a dabbler in the dark arts himself with his archetype awakened, Heismay felt inclined to agree. His eyes lingered on the long-dead, highly dubious person of interest for a moment before. Then he shook his head and brushed off the whole room with a dismissive wave. “Yes, let’s.” As he turned to go, he beckoned for Edward’s wayward hellhound to follow. “Coming along? The more, the merrier, as they say.”

The door through which the Seekers entered had quietly swung shut while the two conducted their investigation, so according to the rules they’d come to know about this place, it would no longer lead them back to the Forgotten Commune. Ace reached the doorway first, and despite his strength, it took a substantial effort to throw open the doors.

Aurelian Nexus

Before the two stood a large vault with a high arched ceiling supported by stone columns. Directly across from the entrance there seemed to be a small chamber with a recessed statue of impressive height. Clusters of candles provided ample firelight, and they illuminated a grisly scene. Upon the floor a giant pentagram had been drawn in chalk, with a blood-red candle at each of the five points, their flames much brighter than they should have been. Above each floated a unique, unfamiliar sigil. In the center lay a grotesque blob of twisted, coagulated tumor-flesh, with multiple heads and seats of limbs protruding from the inhumane mass.

“Eugh…” In the short time he’d been in Winterhold so far, Heismay had seen some unpleasant sights, but this took the cake so far. “Another ritual? We’ve some truly rotten luck.”

Ace echoed that sentiment completely, glancing about the room before his attention settled on the writhing thing with a grimace. "No kitten."

As they watched, one of the bodies began to stretch out from the mass, adulating in an unknown tongue as it waved its nublike arms. The candle-flames seemed to dance in time with its chants. Heismay gave a heavy sigh in irate fashion. “This one, however, does not seem inclined to wait for our involvement.”

At this point even Ace was finding it hard to stay plucky, but he did his best anyway because disheartenment wouldn't help anyone. In fact it was actively harmful in situations like these, so the hunter threw Heismay a small, sidelong grin. "If this gnarlycuga thing wants a piece of us, let's give it what it wants," he said while forcing a bit of bravado.

Ace took the hilt of Yato and drew the blade as he took his long sword stance. But that being said he knew better than to assume that a big hunk of muscle-pretzel was all this creature was, so he held back in order to first see what it would throw at them. The fact that it, and the body that looked like it was trying to split off from it, were sitting inside the occult circle didn't help his hesitation to jump right into offense.

“Hmph!” Heismay kicked off the battle with an experimental slash straight to the cancerous heap. It was dense, and though his longsaber left a long gash it didn’t cut very deep, and nor did it draw blood, if this horror indeed had any to bleed. The faces that littered its mass flinched in pain, and its little protruding limbs writhed, but when it made no move to reciprocate the attack Heismay hacked at it twice more. Going for one of the heads seemed no more effective. “Tis quite sturdy,” he growled through gritted teeth, not sure this was the right approach.

After a moment, another body extruded itself from the mass, stretching upward. Heismay jumped up in order to slice at it, but even then the wretch did not round on him. It merely lifted its own hands and joined the chant. This time, dark magic sprung forth, and a handful of frogs poofed into existence. One stuck its tongue out at Heismay like it might a frog, which did no damage but yanked the eugief toward it. A simple kick was all it took to make sure that wouldn’t happen again. More of his attention turned toward the candles, which had flared even brighter in response to the Coven’s chant. He couldn’t help but get the sinking feeling like this was building toward something, and the monster’s efforts were just an attempt to slow its attackers down.

Once Heismay got started it quickly spurred Ace into following his lead, seeing that nothing strange happened on the swordman's approach or attack. Relatively strange for the situation anyway. He took to the dark mass of flesh's other side, drawing his own blade along it. He cut a line across heads, eyes, limbs, and whatever else made up the blob, but the results weren't much different than Heismay's. Shallow but visible damage on the collection of bodies, even the legendary weapon hard-pressed to cleave through the bulk. And was it just the Cadet overthinking now that the mass had begun casting, or was the flesh hardening further after another individual had pulled itself up?

“Hunter!” Heismay called suddenly, his voice a little frantic. “We’re not hurting this thing fast enough. Mayhaps we should turn our efforts toward the candles, instead?”

"Candles?" Ace stopped mid-swing, swiveling to check what Heismay was talking about. There were tons of candles in this room, but he must have meant the blood red ritual ones that dotted the points of the pentagram around them. The flames that burned on their wicks seemed almost alive. A second later and the hunter realized why his comrade had made that suggestion: destroying the components of whatever spell this thing was trying to cast would ruin its plan way faster than hacking away at the creature itself. It was good thinking!

Ace twisted, bringing his sword around in a low circle slash that brushed painfully against the Coven but was aimed at slicing the candle nearest to him in two. His blade carved through the wax, but even that seemed far denser and stronger than it should have been, albeit nowhere near as durable as the Coven. These were no ordinary candles and would require dedicated effort to demolish. Seeing his comrade’s decision, Heismay peeled off from the meat mass and tried to kick another candle over, only to find it solidly stuck to the floor. “Damn it,” he growled. Confounded at every turn… what were they going to do?

[Yankee]

^{____________________________________________________}
Level: 11 - Total EXP: 334/110 ------ Level: 10 - Total EXP: 391/100
𝙱𝙿 ●●●●● ---------------------------- 𝙱𝙿 ●●●●●
_{Friday Morning}
Word Count: 857 (+2 exp)
Location: Esaka, the Forbidden Kingdom

Naturally the pair of Orsterrans were in favor of disposing of the city's Consul sooner rather than later as well, and it was for that reason that Therion was even helping out with the G-Corp stuff in the first place, which he went on to say aloud. "I figure that our Consul has something to do with the Heavenly Principles. And I was hoping that claiming that bounty would get us a private meeting with her."

He spoke as casually as he could make himself, though his tail had flicked over to curl around one of the legs of his seat. If he was right, it would be as good a chance as any to take B out. Even if she recognized the ambush for what it was, there was something that all of the consuls so far had in common besides their taste in armor: their arrogance. He would not be surprised if any of them willingly stepped into a trap just to prove it wouldn't work. And, Aelfric willing, would suffer the consequences for it.

Without a concrete grasp on what the Principles actually were or how they worked short of just writing them off as some sort of magic, Primrose was not quite as sure of that course of action. Then again she didn't have an alternative to offer, so she merely nodded once and finished her cup of tea. "If we could set up an isolated meeting like that it would be ideal, but we'll also have to prepare for a confrontation that could happen at any time," she said, echoing Band's words.

It was a bit of a downer of a discussion for breakfast, but most of the group was finished eating anyway. They were going to be breaking up and heading to their respective Pools areas, or other places in the city soon. But before that the sigil for the phone magic Primrose had learned manifested by her head. Besides the brief practice with it the night before this was the first call she'd gotten with it, and curious as to what the UN would contact them about so soon she tapped the magic circle.

A diversion was it? Waiting patiently until Haehyun was finished, Primrose promised the woman she would impart the information before the call ended, even though she had the sneaking suspicion that the other group was well aware that most of the Seekers -including the dancer herself- were already gathered together.

Therion had stared back at Big Band when he felt the detective's eyes on him, his expression one of mild curiosity and annoyance both, as if he could tell exactly what Band was thinking and that the man was real presumptuous to assume the thief didn't have any better use of his time.

...which, of course, he didn't. Not a one. Not without a bead on Kazuya for the bounty he'd brought up or any other pressing matters to look into. But he could still act like he did, at least until he let out a sigh through his nose and unfurled his tail. "I guess if it'll help," he said dryly, pushing his chair out from the table to stand.

Primrose produced a few zenny as she stood too, heading over to the diner's front counter and saying over her shoulder, "maybe I'll come by later to watch~"

She'd already learned a lot just by casually observing, so after visiting the UN's hospital once more to look into that ki-tuning (and what, exactly, this diversion was meant to keep the Kings' eyes away from) she would likely be at the Pools again today to keep an eye on things... and now that it was the second day and the Loser's Bracket had started in earnest, perhaps stick around the Mortal Kombat side of things and see what she could scoop up there.

After bidding the Seekers good bye and good luck, the dancer made her way to the High Tier. The thief tagged along after the more enthusiastic Koopa siblings, headed to the Middle Tier. When they arrived he took in the colorful, exaggerated areas that made up the theme park where the Power Stone Games were being held and the equally colorful, exaggerated participants that had already gathered. There was one that really stood out though... that being Juri. Therion recalled Pit saying something about her being on the Avenger, but now she was obviously back in the city. Which was overall good as it raised the Seekers' collective power, but he also recalled that she was not exactly a team player.

Weird coincidence that she turned up here though, enough that the look Therion had shot her when she appeared was suspicious. Then it turned indifferent, almost dismissive when she wrote the whole event off. It was hard to take her seriously when she was also about to join in on the so called 'kiddie pool tournament' herself, even if Therion did sort of agree with her.

Well, whatever. While Junior and Rika went over to question her, Therion turned his attention to identifying a host or announcer to get the rules from.

[Goggy]

Fujiwara no Mokou & Sectonia

Level 8 (holding 2 level ups)
32/80

Location: Location: College of Winterhold
Wordcount: 1877 (+3)

Palace of Earthly Spirits

Before Mokou and Sectonia extended a long, tall, stately corridor, featuring classic columns, golden chandeliers, and a half-dozen antechambers on each side. In the checkered floor, patches of glowing tiles shone, reminiscent of stained glass windows. The moment the Phoenix entered, she could hear an unmistakable sound emanating from the side-rooms both near and far: the varied meowing of many cats.

Mokou let out a small whistle at the sight of the palace, keeping her hands in her pockets as she floats around, “Nice place. Seems like this is rather populated. Do you think cats are cursed too?” she asked aloud as she lazily rotated in the air. When Mokou floated over to check one of the palatial corridor's many antechambers, she discovered an oddly ordinary room. It looked rather like an ordinary living room, albeit with a pronounced rustic aesthetic, with wooden walls, animal fur rugs, and wall-mounted taxidermies. A pet gate, over which the Phoenix could fly effortlessly, was her only obstacle, and sure enough there were a half-dozen cats inside. Three were adults, and while the oldest cat (featuring a forest green color palette and an eyepatch) lurked toward the back watching her, the other two -a white-spotted female and a male with a brown hat plus colostomy bag- seemed to be the proud parents of a three-kitten litter. These kittens, for the most part, represented a mixture of their parents' traits, but one seemed to have a rounded mouth and a big, protruding tongue. Each feline featured a collar that offered its wearer's name at closer inspection: Vlady for the papa cat, Jitterbug for the mama cat, Fenrir for the old tom, then Stamper, Bzam, and Coarse Dirt for the kittens.

”I would not be surprised.” Sectonia said, not only confused at all the cats but their names and everything. Cats weren’t common on popstar. ”I do not see much use for this room outside of… another trophy room perhaps. Whoever runs this place seems to like to make trophies out of various things.”

“That seems to be true. They surely like their cats” Mokou comments, scanning the room for anything out of place… Ultimately coming to the conclusion that there was nothing truly of notice here aside from the large variety of cats.

Upon turning to leave, Mokou found herself confronted by somebody new in her way. A pale girl in a pastel blue sweater over a flowery white dressed stared at her with a stern, deadpan expression, as if her dark eyes could see straight through Mokou. "Satori Komeji," she declared out of the blue, answering the unspoken question of who she was. "This is the Palace of Earthly Spirits, my abode within the magic labyrinth of Winterhold College," she went on, perhaps trying to skip as much conversation as possible. "And yes, these are all my cats. They appreciate being understood, unlike most people. Which is why I don't have much interest in leaving. But I might have an idea or two that'd help you out." For how easily she seemed to discern what the Seekers wanted to know, though, the girl wasn't all that forthcoming.

Mokou blinks slightly, but slowly rotates back to an upright position. Surprisingly enough, her mind actually becomes somewhat streamlined for Satori’s mind reading… An act that indicated a lot of experience with one’s own memories, “Understandable, I can get the appeal of chilling in a place where folks don’t annoy you. Got plenty of experience like that” Mokou states, looking back at Sectonia, "Seen-”

“Nope,” Satori replied before Mokou could ask anything. “Nobody else has entered this place.” She crossed her arms, her expression neutral. It could easily be interpreted that she wanted as little to do with the newcomers as possible, but perhaps she just wanted to save time. After a moment, her eyes wandered to her cats, especially the old tomcat with the eyepatch. “Easy, Fenrir,” she told him. “They don’t want to hurt us. And its not like your bear traps would affect them, anyway.”

“She’s right. Well, it might slow me down. But that’s about it” the phoenix comments towards Fenrir, before letting out a small sigh, not even voicing her words towards Satori but instead directing her thoughts about the two moving on. There wasn’t much that concerned them anyway, and they had to regroup with the other individuals that got teleported around.

“Farewell, then.” Satori moved aside so that the Seekers could proceed down the hallway. After a moment, she ventured, “If any of your friends have pets, tell them to drop by. My cats could use someone new to play with.”

When the Seekers reached the far doorway, Sectonia bid her antlers push the door open for her. Sectonia and Mokou found themselves within a vaulted chamber smothered in tattered curtains and spider silk. Appallingly dark, it featured only a couple glass globes containing glowing fireflies and a faint spotlight from above for illumination. The floor itself appeared to be made of molded metal, or perhaps lustrous chitin, arranged in ceremonious circles and ridges. Fallen surgical tools could be found around toppled tables, wheelchairs and gurneys, with broken bindings that suggested involuntary captivity. Most striking of all was the enormous metal contraption that stood in the room’s center, a pair of arcs supporting a half-dozen giant spikes pointed inward, strung with dimly luminous silk and outrageously, surgically sharp. There seemed to be two wooden double doors to allow patients in and out. While before the chamber had been mostly empty with slight shifting of creatures, with the previous seeker having visited this chamber before many silk laden corpses rest around the room, some burnt, some shredded, most destroyed by what seemed to be machine gun fire, but most of all the chamber was eerily quiet.

The silence in the surgical chamber is oppressive, the darkness heavy. It suppressed the Seekers with an atmosphere that made them keep their voices down instinctively, though as far as they knew, there was nothing here that could hear them. There seemed to be no signs of life, yet something struck the intruders as oddly...furtive. Secretive. As if something in here didn't want to be seen, and with every moment that passed, this unseen presence grew more and more nervous, pushed closer to the breaking point. DON'T LOOK AT ME. DON'T LOOK AT ME. Finally, after a few ominous moments of absolute, unnerving silence, the shadows screeched at them. "HIEAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!" From the darkness, a smudge of a face loomed out at them, warped and weeping. Corrosive pitch-black paint dribbled from its misshapen maws, ready to be spat, and its hypnotic movements began to make the Seekers feel drowsy.

Mokou instinctively raises her hand to a snapping motion, only to grimace slightly when she remembered the anti-magical field that was preventing her from properly casting. But it only took a few moments for her to readjust, taking a small gamble as she closed her eyes and raised her hands, “Hey, chill. We’re just passing through.”

Sectonia meanwhile wasn’t looking for peace with such a hideous monster, and knowing the dampening magic field, pulled out her new ‘cursed’ relic and just unloaded on the new creature. Although she wasn’t happy with the huge mana drain the item caused nor its long windup, once the Last Prism had its beams converge it made quite the effective light laser to pierce the darkness and do some good damage to the dark creature until it sucked her mana dry, forcing her to swap to her swords and axe and keep low to regenerate her mana.

“... Or not. I suppose we’re doing this” Mokou says with a sigh, taking out her Pokeball and, in a flash of light, releasing Keine from its ball. The young Spheal looked around slightly before it locked onto the creature before them, almost seeming to panic and look back at Mokou, “It’s fine, I’m here. Let Sectonia take the lead but support with Rollout” Mokou commanded, earning a somewhat hesitant but brave nod from Keine as they curled into a ball and began to roll towards the dark creature. Unlike most of its cute rolls however, it began to pick up speed rather quickly, barreling down to smash into the target.

The shadow creature reacted fairly violently but unknown to Mokou he would’ve done this anyway since they had looked at him. While it looked like a mass of tendrils and other abominable features, its method of attack was unexpected for the two girls as instead of using its limbs to strike them, instead it spit globs of acidic paint at them. Meanwhile its tendrils moved in a bit of a hypnotic pattern, making Mokou and Sectonia a bit drowsy as they looked at him. While Sectonia thought a big blast of light magic would do massive damage to this creature, it was just normal damage while Mokou’s spheal did greatly reduced damage. Apparently this thing wasn’t made of shadow, but of paint and ink and bludgeoning attacks did almost nothing to it.

Mokou herself simply stepped to the side of the acidic projectile fired at her, her expression completely unimpressed as she took her hand out of her pocket again. She hadn’t used her magic before because of the antimagic from earlier, but in the moments that had passed she realized that no, the presence wasn’t actually around anymore. Thus there was nothing holding her back.

… And therefore, nothing stopping her from incinerating this monster.

With a snap of her fingers, a stream of fire erupted from Mokou’s hand, carving through the air and slamming into the monster of ink, causing it to instantly catch aflame and screech in agony, flailing wildly, its attack on the Seekers forgotten now that it was in the process of burning alive. It staggered away, trying to put out the flames, before it collapsed into a smoldering pile.

Sectonia was too big to dodge the projectile, but besides the dot damage ticking on her for a few moments it didn’t hurt too much. The creature, once lit on fire, seemed to go down pretty quickly with the smell of burning paint emanating from its smoldering corpse before it turned into a spirit. The two girls were still drowsy from its hypnosis, but that would wear off in time.

”Grab the spirit and let us continue on.” Sectonia said, Mokou being closer as she took a look at where the creature was and smashed one of the nearby operating tables in disgust… or maybe that was from something else? Hm…

Mokou watches Sectonia already move on, tilting her head slightly at the Queen’s random act of destruction, but otherwise not commenting on it, instead returning Keine to its Pokeball and picking up the spirit to hold onto for the time being.

[Goggy]

A Chance Encounter III

Pit - Level: 8 - Total EXP: 351/80

Grima

Level 5 (holding 1 level up) 49/50 EXP

Location: Esaka's High Tier, Forbidden Kingdom (Friday Morning)
Word Count: 1694 (+3 exp)

Grima’s spell was certainly disrupted as her body staggered back from the force of the heart, even if it was a healing force. In truth though, the damage was not from the friend heart, but from the effects it had on her mind. Instantly, Grima brought her hands to her head, hunching over in seeming agony as memories flooded her mind.

The first thing Grima remembered was the wind. The deafening, howling wind that roared in their ears. Not only their vessel’s, but themself. Their TRUE self. They were free, flying across the ocean to wreak havoc upon Ylisse. The Fell Dragon’s body, left without form for so long in this time, could finally be free.

Time… Yes, time. This Grima was not of this time. Or, they were, in a way. The child of the Exalt, the girl, traveled back through time to try to stop Grima’s resurrection. To take their vessel away from them and disrupt fate’s design. An act that forced Grima to follow, working behind the scenes to ensure that their true form could be resurrected in this timeline as well.

Which led to now. Where the Fell Dragon’s vessel stood atop their true form’s back, staring down at the Exalt of this timeline… As well as the vessel that should have been theirs. An exact replica, a woman with bright white hair and the tainted blood of the Fell Dragon coursing through their veins. They had rejected Grima, rallied with their ‘friends’, swore to defeat them once and for all…

Yet Grima stood. The Exalt and the flawed vessel were both left on their knees, battered and beaten, while their beloved friends barely fought and survived against the Risen that heeded Grima’s call.

“... Utterly foolish. You had a purpose, one that defined your entire, pathetic mortal existence. And yet, you throw it all away, and for what?” Grima’s vessel asked, tilting their head slightly, “I truly do not understand what you see in these creatures. These… Hypocritical, self righteous fools. Even with the Divine Dragon’s power and the Fire Emblem, you failed to defeat me. Truly, how disappointing,” Grima said with a sigh as they lifted their hand. In tandem, the large neck of the Fell Dragon turned around, facing its own back.

“You could have given them a swift death, if you loved them so dearly. Instead they will curse you for subjecting them to pain. And I will [i]ensure[i/] that you witness the life leave every one of their eyes… Starting with the Exalt,” the Fell Vessel slowly smiled as Grima’s true form opened their mouth, a massive amount of dark magic and purple fire forming in its jaws. The flawed vessel herself tried to speak out, to stop the coming end… But she could only stagger back to her knees, coughing up blood.

This battle, this world, and this timeline… It was all over. Grima had won.

…

Or at least, that’s what should have happened.

A shining light in the distance caught Grima’s eye. It was not the sun, as it had begun to rise in the opposite horizon. This fact alone caused them to cease their attack, turning their head to face the oddity… Which only left them more confused as they witnessed what it was. It wasn’t just a glint, but a solid wall of light swiftly making its way across the sea.

“What the… What kind of sorcery..-” Grima whispered to themselves, utterly flabbergasted by the sight before them that they didn’t see the flawed vessel rise from their feet. The Exalt took notice, yelling something that didn’t quite reach Grima’s ears as the flawed vessel pushed Grima’s shoulder, turning their body to face them again… Before stabbing her sword through their heart. In an instant, the dragon’s body shuddered in agony, letting out a screech of pain as the Fell Vessel’s body staggered back, only to be gripped tightly by the flawed vessel, “Wh- You- Worm, what have you-” they gasped out as the vessel silently gripped Grima tighter, focused solely on the task of finally slaying Grima once and for all…

Even as the world faded into light.

“Wh… What did you do to me?!” Grima asked, all theatrics and venom gone, replaced by genuine confusion, her red eyes peeking out from between her fingers as she tried to steady herself on a nearby wall.

The only other person around did not reach out to comfort or assist her, rooted to the spot as he was. The friend hearts weren't supposed to hurt, or so Pit had thought, but the longer Grima had stayed doubled over the more hunched the angel's shoulders got as his tension grew. Maybe there was something else going on in her brain - in Robin's brain.

When Grima finally spoke again it undid some of the knot that had been forming in Pit's stomach. He shook off his nervousness with a quick flex and flap of wings before he tiled his chin up and answered her honestly.

"I freed you," he said. "You were sorta brainwashed, like basically everyone else in the world. Now you're not! You should remember some stuff like how weird everything is, and that light that brought you here."

He paused, thinking about what else he could say right at that moment that would ease Grima down from the shock of her new state of mind. Ultimately though he just dismissed his weapon, knowing he could summon it again in an instant if he needed to, and held his hands up briefly before spreading them in a way that was almost welcoming. "You have to get beat up a little before you can get un-brainwashed, but now that you can think normal again... Um, just take a minute to breathe? If you don't go evil dragon mode I'll tell you everything that you're gonna wanna know!"

Grima stared at the angel for a few moments, processing their words before she slowly lowered her hand, staring at it, “... Freed me, is that it? Yes… You did open my eyes to the inherent wrongness of this world.” Suddenly her eyes snapped up again, the look of confusion gone as she focused once more, “That light. The light that engulfed the world. What was it?”

I think it's going good so far?

Don't let your guard down just yet.

Pit dropped his hands, mostly so that he could gesture with them as he spoke. "It's called Galeem. We don't know exactly what it is, but it's strong enough to have basically taken over every world and make a whole new one out of all the parts."

Should he mention the whole 'and everything is just a copy that times out before a new one gets made'? Honestly he still couldn't entirely wrap his head around that himself, so better not. While still intending to heed Palutena's words, Pit started to walk closer to Grima, tilting his head curiously to see if she needed any help before he went on.

"And us, the Seekers of Light you wanted to join? We're traveling around the world to take out a bunch of Guardians protecting Galeem so that we can kick its butt and get all our worlds back to normal!"

“... So your purpose is far more than just Esaka. I should have anticipated that,” Grima commented, running a hand through her hair as she rose to her full height (which, admittedly, wasn’t that much). “... Galeem huh. They are to blame for this world then. I…” she pauses, looking towards the sky for a moment before looking back at Pit, “I require time to think. This has given me much to consider… And I still have to deal with the tournament,” the Fell Vessel states with a sigh, whispering under her breath as another memory came to her mind, “... Robin… Now I remember that name.”

It was a stroke of luck for Grima that Pit hadn't heard the murmured comment to herself, since the stubborn angel would likely have not let her go if he had. As it were, Pit crossed his arms and nodded a few times. "It's a lot, right? But if you're fighting in the tournaments that's actually part of our plan..."

Briefly he explained that the Four Kings of Esaka would all have to be defeated at the same time in order to conquer this region and get that step closer to Galeem, hence why the Seekers were all there fighting for a chance to face the city's rulers. He also mentioned that she should be wary of the Consul that presided over the area, who was likely to try and put a stop to their plans some time soon.

"We do kinda need all the help we can get, so once you get your thoughts sorted out-" Pit rummaged through the folds of his clothes until he produced a small, golden sphere, which he held out to the vessel. "-then come join up with us! This here is for talking to each other by magic, you put it in your ear."

He was smiling now that it looked like everything had worked out.

Grima looked down at the sphere, pondering it for only a moment before plucking it from Pit’s hands, “I will consider it. And contact your group if I do” she says, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away. There was much she had to consider, not just for her immediate plans but for what her long term goals were as well.

… Including dealing with the newfound headache emanating from the center of her mind.

[Lugubrious]

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (231/150) Level 11 Big Band (155/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2307 / 1263

Once Nadia gave Beowulf the skinny on what the Seekers were up to in Esaka and how to get stronger, the two parted ways. They were registered for different tournaments, after all, and needed to report to different parts of the Pools. That left Nadia all on her lonesome once more as she made her way toward her first match, but despite her difficult task and the overcast, drizzly day, the catgirl was in high spirits. “Doin’ purr-etty good!” Honestly, she felt confident about her plot to involve Beowulf. It wasn’t exactly something she’d consulted her fellow Seekers about, but they needed all the help they could get. Doofus or not, Beowulf was a solid fighter and a stand-up guy. Now that he knew about fusion, he could push himself even further and maybe come out on top. Even if he didn’t, he was still free from Galeem’s influence, so Nadia felt like she’d done her good deed for the day.

All that remained was to do her opponents dirty.

To make her final descent to the Pools Tier, Nadia eschewed the crowded elevators (plus the prerequisite detour) in favor of climbing down herself. Her hardened claws raked through the chalky stone bricks of the Middle Tier’s outer cylinder, permitting her a leisurely slide down and an easy jump to a nearby walkway once she grew close enough. When she leaped, landed with a roll, and sprang to her feet amidst fighters and yokai on their way to various arenas, nobody so much as batted an eye. “Morning, everyone! You guys wanna see what peak purr-formance looks like? Be sure to check meowt today!” Nadia tried to dash away, nearly slipped off the wet bridge, and settled for a brisk jog instead.

Within a few minutes, the feral reached her destination: an ordinary round sandbar of an island, featuring a couple slouching palm trees a little else, all only inches above the water level. A torii gate with a gong stood just off shore, and a wooden boardwalk allowed Nadia to reach the arena without even having to jump. To her mild surprise her opponents hadn’t arrived yet, but Robo-fortune, as punctual as ever, was there to greet her. Of course, before Robo could say anything, Nadia regaled her with a look of mock astonishment. “You again!? We’ve gotta stop meeting like this. People are gonna talk!”

Robo’s gaze was lifeless, not to mention humorless. “I struggle to imagine anyone talking more than you do.”

“Sheesh! I’ve met robots with a heart of gold, but you Robo, you’ve got a heart of cold.” Feigning resignation, Nadia turned to look around. Was it just her, or were there way more spectators here than usual? A surprising number could be found leaning on the railings of the walkways that surrounded this arena, and a few (mostly yokai) had managed to make their way to the top of that ceremonial arch. Most of their eyes weren’t on her or Robo, though. Instead their attention lay on a couple of ladies making their way toward the island. A few of them raised their voices in excited cheers.

“Tao-ka-ka! Tao-ka-ka!”

“Bullet, Bullet, she’s our girl! Punch ‘em, smash ‘em, rock their world!”

Another couple seconds later, and Nadia’s opponents arrived in style, traipsing down the walkway one after the other. The moment she saw them, the thief raised an eyebrow. In front, probably the main fighter, sauntered a catgirl with tan skin, platinum blonde hair, and a face shrouded in shadow. She pranced along whimsically, without a care in the world. Only her round red eyes and big toothy smile were visible beneath her hood. Behind her followed what must be the catgirl’s Kameo, a punchgirl with a platinum blonde bob cut, dark jacket, and impressive scar. For a second Nadia thought the second newcomer was a catgirl too, but what looked like a tail turned out to be the very long tailing end of her belt. Still, there was no denying that the two women (one with long sleeves, the other with mismatched golden gauntlets) were cut from the same cloth. Which, in turn, made them uncannily similar to Nadia herself, especially in her new outfit. What were the odds…?

“Taokaka and Bullet, huh?” Nadia put her hands on her hips as the pair approached. “They seem popular.”

“From the BlazBlue dojo,” Robo informed her. “Middle-tier, like us, but with far more notoriety and acclaim.”

When Bullet came to a stop a second later, she crossed her arms. “Ms. Fortune and Robo-fortune, huh? Like we didn’t have enough catgirls already…”

“Catgirls rule!” Taokaka exclaimed, bouncing into a cutesy pose. She beamed at the Fortunes innocently. “Butt Floss, who are these guys?”

“I just said their names, and don’t call me Butt Floss!” Bullet slapped a hand to her head with a frustrated grimace. She gave Nadia and Robo a pleading look. “She’s dumb as a rock. Can’t remember anyone’s name, so we all get nicknames.”

As she spoke, Nadia couldn’t stop giggling. “Butt Floss, huh? The nickname really suits you!” Those jean shorts, if they could even be called that, didn’t leave much to the imagination. Although Nadia really wasn’t one to talk, given her original outfit.

“Hey!” Bullet scowled, her cheeks reddening. “You’ll be singing a different tune once we wipe the floor with you. Hey, ‘Kaka!” Grabbing Taokaka’s shoulder, she pointed at her opponents. “We’re here to fight them, remember? To win Mortal Kombat!”

Taokaka’s eyes widened, although her grin suggested that she wouldn’t have any problem with this. “Oh, okay! Let’s get ‘em!”

ROUND ONE: FIGHT!

The golden light of the Heavenly Principles coalesced on the gong, punctuating its announcement with a thunderous crash. Without a moment’s hesitation, both Nadia and Taokaka threw themselves forward in a headlong sprint. Taokaka’s feet left the ground, so the feral jumped up to meet her in midair. Knife-sized blades extended from the slits in her foe’s sleeves as she carved through the air before Nadia could complete her own slash, leading to an instant and frightening realization: wait, she’s faster than me!?

Taokaka’s claws connected in a counterhit that brought Nadia back to the island’s surface for a full combo. A couple light slaps and kicks led to a double pawlm strike, followed by huge claw slashes fast enough to briefly ignite the air and create magenta trails. After launching the feral upward, Taokaka slashed into and through her, then back the way she came before flipping overhead. A diving slash bounced Nadia off the sand, and Taokaka bent forward to perform a low cross slash before finishing with a forward corkscrew dive.

“Nyow!” Nadia hit the ground and rolled to her feet just in time to see her opponent bring Bullet into the fray.

Taokaka beckoned to her Kameo playfully. “Oh, Butt Floss!”

Teeth gritted, the bruiser charged forward with a heavy straight punch from her big gauntlet. “Smash Hell!” The withering blow, alight with the weapon’s inner flame, just about blew open Nadia’s guard. Bullet whirled around for a revolving hook, and Nadia hunkered down, only to find that Taokaka had already sped forward when she grabbed onto the feral’s arms, planted her feet against her chest, and slammed her with a hooded headbutt that left Nadia flat on her back.

By the time Nadia shook the stars from her eyes, her body hurting, Taokaka was already in the air and about to plunge. She rolled forward into a back-turned kneeling position to cross beneath her foe before she dove downward. “Tin Cans!” At her bidding, Robo-fortune covered her with a heavy Theonite Beam that caught Taokaka as she turned to run forward. Nadia unleashed her pressurized blood to hyper-extend her right arm, grab Taokaka by her collar, and yank her forward into a light Fiber Upper She snapped up after the launcher into a somersault, allowing her to her helicopter-esque Wheel of Fortune into a crushing El Gato axe kick for the groundbounce. “Maid from scratch!” From there she executed the one-two-three slash of her Cat Scratch rekka and finished with Furrserker Purrage, the razor-sharp onslaught leaving the two competitors roughly even.

“Oof, ow!” Taokaka picked herself and shook her head, her blonde braids flying from side to side. “Bad kitties! You’re going to get it!”

After bending over, she launched forward with an incredible burst of speed, zig-zagging so fast that she seemed to leave afterimages. Nadia knew better than to stay still and dodged to the right from the first slash, then back, ducking away to avoid the follow-up. She sprang up to jump over Taokaka, but the spacey speedster leaned back almost horizontally and batted up at her with her paw-sleeves, then jumped herself. Knocked out of the air, Nadia landed off-balance and struggled to block her foe’s Cat Spirit Three, a falling slash that scoured Nadia’s arms. That looked committal enough for the feral to punish, but she guessed wrong. Taokaka used her Rapid Cancel to hop up and catch her adversary with a double clap to the head in a dizzying counterhit. “Hee hee!” Gleefully Taokaka drove herself forward with a pinning scrape that Bullet followed up with a mighty slug. Nadia flew into a palm tree with a loud CRACK, and she slumped to the sand, Taokaka crouched down, then hurled herself forward. “Imma beat the crap outta you!” She pounced on Nadia, then slashed her again and again, until Taokaka got bored, forgot what she was doing, and got up.

With a groan, Nadia pulled herself up off the ground, her legs and clothes coated in gritty sand. She was used to being the best rushdown fighter in the room, and now that she’d gotten a taste of her own medicine, things weren’t looking so hot. She could still win, though, as long as she made the right decisions.

As Nadia rose, Taokaka opened her sleeve and flung a sledgehammer at her. “Kitty Litter Special!”

“Whoa!” The feral sidestepped just in time, and the hammer smashed into the tree behind her in a spray of splinters. Taokaka called Bullet to perform a straight punch (which Nadia managed to check with a low sweep) then jumped backward and sprang off another palm tree with Trick Edge. Her lunging drive attack ran straight into an early reveal of Nadia’s Blue Monday Blockbuster. “Kneed me some damage!” The counter-super stunned Taokaka with a knee to the dome as it popped her up, and after Nadia slammed her down, a bombastic arm swing into elbow drop added insult to injury. “Elb-owned!”

Taokaka sprang to her feet just as quickly, though. She half-stepped away from Nadia’s jabs, then struck back with a series of strikes that put the feral on the defensive again. Finishing with the flailing up-down claws of Cat Spirit One left her safe enough to handspring away, then pull out an apple core as she prepared another Kitty Litter Special. Nadia wasn’t having it. “Not so fast!” She used Charge to zip forward as a bolt of lightning, pierce through Taokaka, and solidify behind her for a couple critical swipes. “Up to bat-tery!” She could combo off this, and Taokaka could probably guess that, but unbeknownst to the dummy Robo-fortune was already on her way to lock her down with Head Swap Action. It was a frame trap, and with the combo it gave her, Nadia would clinch the win!

In a very Ms Fortune move, however, Taokaka challenged not with a jab, but with Cat Person’s Secret Art: Hexa-edge. The reversal super cut clean through Nadia’s set-up, flooring both her and Robo-fortune in a single lightning-flash flurry to close out the round.

ROUND ONE: TAOKAKA WINS!

A moment later Nadia blearily came to, her blurry gaze sharpening to reveal her opponent’s silly victory dance. Spectators were cheering, but not for her. She felt very silly herself, and more than a little frustrated, for throwing away the win with one of her famous ‘great ideas’. Her opponent’s reactions were as razor-sharp as her claws, and the fact that Nadia found Taokaka’s speed impressive was saying something. Add in Bullet’s belligerent power, and these two were dynamite. Nadia lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Her heart was racing. Part of her knew that she could come back stronger, adapt her fighting style, and steal the win. Part of her was scared, overwhelmed, even though she should be the one doing the overwhelming.

After a few seconds, Nadia took a deep breath, put on a smile, and got up. She’d turned the tables on Maya and Mira, and she’d landed some good hits on Taokaka, so this was definitely doable. She just needed to be better. Faster. Smarter. Her foe was good, but she operated on pure instinct. Meanwhile Ms Fortune wasn’t a feral known for her intellect, but against Taokaka, maybe it would finally be her brain cell’s time to shine.

---

In the Pools tier, not all of the arenas were ringed by bridges or boardwalks; some were little more than docks themselves. For Big Band’s next battle, it looked like he’d be fighting atop a large wooden platform, flanked by two statues caged in by construction scaffolds. Its rather haphazard-looking planks did not inspire a great deal of confidence in the detective, but if the shoddy raft upon which he fought Rhajang actually held, then this stage should, too. There were many eager spectators situated here already, some around the stage’s edge but most on the nearby scaffolds, and it did not take a master of deduction to figure out why.

Potemkin, the detective’s next opponent, was no ordinary fighter. In a city full of big people, Big Band loomed large, but this Potemkin stood taller still. He stood at a gargantuan 8’6”, which made him almost a full foot taller than Band himself, and must have weighed in at well over one ton. That made him about half Band’s weight, but the cyborg was ninety-eight percent heavy metal, and if the slabs of muscle sliding around beneath Potemkin’s tight-fitting olive drab uniform were anything to go, this extremely top-heavy giant was all flesh and bone despite his highly technological helmet and gauntlets. Though, Band highly doubted that such a titanic physique could be achieved naturally. Surely steroids had been involved, if not outright magic.

As Band sized his sizable foe up, Potemkin did the same. The two giants stared one another down in silence as onlookers buzzed excitedly about the behemoth brawl that was surely brewing. Band did his best to catch snippets of their conversation, hoping for some clue about who he was up against, since his adversary seemed to be someone of some renown. He could just barely hear worrisome murmurs about Potemkin’s oppressive pressure, absurd damage output, and dangerous throws. A grappler, hm? He’d assumed as much; nobody with a physique like that would be caught dead hurling projectiles from the far side of a stage. Well, even with his new spring-loaded Lokjaws, an up-close slugfest suited him just fine.

Very few of the onlookers seemed to be in his corner, so Band tuned them out. After a few seconds, he tipped his hat at his rival. “May the best man win.”

Potemkin gave a satisfied rumble as he turned the gesture, his fingers almost the size of his head. “Yes. Here’s to a good fight.”

The Heavenly Principles judged that as the perfect time to begin. ROUND ONE: FIGHT!

“Hammerfall!” With a guttural bellow, Potemkin brought the aggression early and slid forward to bring his fists together in a crushing slam, a trail of blazing sparks in his wake. Big Band blocked it, noted the strong chip damage, then sidled backward as Potemkin backdashed in a small hop. Potemkin then fell forward to slam the ground, using his heavy body splash to create a shockwave. “Slide Head!” By then Band had made a lucky guess, however, and jumped forward with a big-time Cymbal Clash that left his foe’s ears ringing as he rolled backward.

Band sidled forward, then abruptly burst closer with a light Brass Knuckles that Potemkin barely escaped with a backward Megafist, a curious retreating hop followed by a double hammerfist strike. Band jumped forward to try and strike low with a downward clarinet thrust, only for Potemkin to repeat his last move and Megafist forward to strike the detective air-to-air. “Bah!’ Band hit the ground and rolled backward, getting to his feet just in time to block his opponent’s Garuda Impact. The short-range gauntlet blast’s overwhelming firepower crushed Band’s guard, which left him reeling long enough for Potemkin to push forward with a shoulder bash and batter his block once more with a giant flick of his finger. Before Band even fully recovered, his foe was gearing up to jump again.

Enough was enough. “Hit the brakes!” Band scooted forward with one big arm extended for a medium Take the ‘A’ Train. His grab anti-aired Potemkin, (somehow) scooped him into the inner compartment, and slammed him twice before belting him out. Eager to capitalize in any way that he could, the detective deployed his French Horn and rocketed forward. “Super…Sonic!” His Blockbuster struck several times and sent Potemkin skidding across the wooden planks, close to the edge.

A Brass Knuckle canceled via Emergency Break closed the distance as Band’s foe recovered, and when Potemkin went to try and to check him with a deceptively fast low sweep, Band cut through the noise with a pre-emptive Low Rank organ-pipe pierce. “Speak low!” It couldn’t start a combo, but it did respectable damage and left Potemkin eager enough to challenge that he fell afoul of Band’s heavy Brass Knuckle. “Gimme a hit!:

As surprised gasps and worried murmurs filtered through the crowd, Band pressed his advantage. Feeling more confident about his odds, he went for a jump-in Jelly Roll, only for Potemkin’s Slide Head to completely armor through it. The moment Band landed behind Potemkin, the tremor caused by the immense Indian’s headbutt knocked him off his feet. “This blows,” he grumbled. For the second time, Potemkin pressured him on wake-up with Garuda Impact, and this time he was close enough that Band’s attempt to block the fireblast was a fatal mistake. Potemkin seized him as if he were no heavier than a bag of flour, leaped into the air, and slammed the earth with Band across his shoulders hard enough to create an explosion. “GYAH!”

Unceremoniously, Potemkin pulled his opponent off his shoulders and tossed him to the ground. Band got no time to rest, however, as Potemkin forced him to rise with a downward smack and then battered his crouch-block with another blazing blow. “Garuda Impact!” Staggering backward as embers alighted on his trench coat, Band gritted his teeth and watched Potemkin spend some tension of his own. “GIGANTER…KAI!” His gauntlets opened up, spinning, and sparks flew as the high-tech giant unleashed enough energy to create a giant forcefield that began to push toward Band. In another second it would shove him off the edge and into the water, but he very much doubted a strike would dispel it. He had only one chance to act, and a split second in which to do it.

“Hup!” Band jumped, then double jumped over the barrier, just barely clearing it.

Then Potemkin snatched him out of the air in yet another move uncannily similar to one of Band’s own. “Heat…” His gauntlet opened up to unload shell after point-blank shell, finishing with a pile bunker blast that bore a bright pink heart. “Extend!”

The final explosion dropped Band to the ground, and he failed to rise.

ROUND ONE: POTEMKIN WINS!

---

Most of the staple Power Stone contestants were milling around or warming up, either mildly interested or fairly nonplussed by prospective newcomers, but when Juri laid the groundwork for making a scene one young man turned toward the spot where she and the Koopa Kids were loitering. With blonde hair, dull blue eyes (beneath Galeem’s glaze, anyway) and a bright red pilot’s jumpsuit, Edward Falcon looked like fairly standard protagonist material, although at 5’11” and one hundred and fifty-eight pounds, he was on the lighter side. When he spoke it was with a strong British accent.

“Oi, ya cheeky mug, no wreckin’ the place before the games start. You’ll need stuff like that to smash over our ‘eads.” He gave a brusque wave, his manner not hostile but not terribly friendly, either. “Edward Falcon, unofficial ‘ead of operations ‘ere. You lot from the Seekers of Light, I presume? Chevalier said there oughta be a couple on the way.”

Crossing his arms, Edward launched into a brief explanation. “Right then, ‘eres the skinny. Each match is a four-way free-for-all, and the goal’s to be the last one standin’. As for how, well, it’s the old cartoon violence, innit? Unlike the tournaments, we ain’t ‘eavily regulated by the ‘Eavenly Principles. No rounds, no time limit. So smash crates, grab items, throw pies, an’ slapstick your way to vict’ry.” He held up three fingers. “One last thing. Power Stones show up in each match over time. Grab three, and you can Power Change into a stronger form. Perfect for clinchin’ the win.” He gave a curt smile. “Got it? Well, we’re just about to crack on, so find yourself a stage and get your arses in gear.”

The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (2/100) Level 7 Heismay (55/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1021

Compared to the Grand Archives, this vault felt quiet, still, and safe. Sandalphon could neither hear the muffled footsteps of undead scholars, nor see any hidden corners where unexpected foes could hide or shoot from. Unlike the candles in the previous room, scattered willy-nilly around tattered and highly flammable old books with no regard for the concept of fire safety, the lamps and sconces in here were both carefully and tastefully arranged.

And in their light, the archangel could see material wealth beyond her wildest dreams. A vast assortment of tomes, armors, weapons, potions, and artifacts, all unique and elaborate enough in appearance to suggest rare or even legendary quality. Her special eye spotted a bejeweled gauntlet, a magic lamp, a ship in a bottle, and a set of staves that covered every possible element. Not even the richest man in Midgar (which was probably Shinra, going by her mental database’s index of approximate net worth) could boast such an impressive collection. Most remarkably of all, the whole gallery appeared to be unprotected, with no visible guards, traps, or even locks. Everything seemed free for the taking.

Of course, to Sandalphon that practically guaranteed the involvement of some discreet but truly nefarious magical trap, no doubt meant to ruthlessly punish the greed of anyone foolish enough to steal from this incredible collection. Her scans could not pick up anything definitive, so this supposition was ultimately just a hypothesis, but it was one she did not care to put to the test. Could the Seekers benefit from the stupendous resources and pieces of equipment available here? Certainly, provided that everything worked as well as it looked and there were no illusions involved. But there was simply no telling what harm might befall anyone who meddled with these treasures. Sandalphon knew she didn’t have much time left, but she needed every last second she had.

With one last curious look at that radiant pink crystal high above her, Sandalphon turned back toward the doors to go. Maybe the Grand Archives had another exit she missed. “Come, little one,” she told the magic cat, only to glance around and not see her. “Little one?”

Suddenly worried, Sandalphon initiated a scan. Immediately she located the cat on the second story, atop a waist-high cabinet with a velvety red cloth. Unable to suppress her curiosity, she seemed to be batting at one of the floating will o’ wisps around a set of grim robes with horns and a beaked mask of bone. “Little one!”

Lucy jumped, landed on the armor set’s dark robe, and immediately let go with a yowl. As Sandalphon climbed the stairs up to the second floor, she watched Lucy swell to twice her size, becoming approximately as big as a Labrador Retriever. The cat let out a confused meow, but otherwise didn’t seem harmed. Still with stress marks in her pupil, Sandalphon glanced at the armor set. Was it enchanted with some kind of growth hex, activated by touch? It would be a fitting karmic punishment to become too large for the armor one tried to take, she supposed. She couldn’t assume that all the items in here bore the exact same enchantment, though, and if there was a karmic element to it, some punishments could conceivably be much worse. For instance, laying a hand on a sharp sword might cause internal bleeding. Very happy that she’d decided not to try her luck, the archangel patted Lucy on the head. “Come on, not-so-little one. We’re leaving.” The cat groaned, then reached up to snatch the plague doctor mask from the mannequin anyway. When she didn’t change again, she put it on, wearing it more like a necklace than a mask. Sandalphon shrugged and turned to go.

As the two descended to the door, Sandalphon noted that Lucy, despite having longer strides, actually seemed to be moving slower than before. “Hm.” She reached the door, then carefully pressed her weight against it. Just as before, it took almost all the meager strength she had, so it must not have been that heavy. When it swung open, though, it wasn’t the Grand Archives in front of her.

The Sinners’ Inn

♫

Instead she beheld an odd, almost dreamlike scene. It was a bar of some sort, with a floor of purple wooden planks and a pink stone, almost like marble, for its counter and tabletops. It featured stools, an oven, and a jukebox, while the balloons and birthday cake marked it as the site for a celebration. In fact, there were plenty of people here to celebrate. They looked like ghosts, with translucent blue forms, far less ghastly and threatening in appearance than the specters of the Grand Archives. Instead, these were animal spirits. Sandalphon identified a frog, a rabbit, a mouse, two cats, a coyote, and a large bird who seemed to be the bartender.

When the spirits noticed Sandalphon’s entrance, most greeted her in rapid succession, waving hello. The bird beckoned the archangel over to the bar, and after a moment she obligingly approached. “Welcome to Sinners’ Inn, our little corner of the afterlife,” the bird declared in a warm, almost motherly tone. “I’m Marla. What’s your name?”

Her verbiage startled Sandalphon slightly more than it probably should have. “I’m…not dead yet.”

“Not Dead Yet? What a strange name!” Marla tittered. “I kid, I kid. Well, living or dead, you’re more than welcome to spend a little time here. Can I get you anything to drink?”

It was a tempting offer. Sandalphon considered calling the others instead. However, the thought of what she’d been through in the Grand Archives gave her pause. If someone had called her in there, the disturbance might have resulted in a surprise attack from the Crystal Sage. If nobody else had reached out yet, things were probably fine.

“...I would like that very much.”

As Sandalphon gingerly sat down, the spirits drifted over to take the other seats, eager to get to know the newcomer better.

[Chevaleresse]

Esaka, the Tiered City

Yayama Yama
Status: youtube.com/watch?v=OCj8pqVqa1M
LV: 6, EXP: 41/60
Word Count: 330 (+1)

Yayama headed down to the pools for her next match, meeting up with Charlotta once she arrived. Thankfully for the other knight's image, the Warrior of Darkness elected to refrain from seeking out some more refreshments that reminded her of home to try. She wondered if she should be endeavoring to free her Kameo partner; Charlotta seemed like the forthright sort, even if she had a sight more courage than experience, and it seemed like their numbers could use any bolstering they could get. Yayama resolved to run the idea past the other Seekers at their next meetup.

Her opponent today was, evidently, a scientifically-crafted super soldier. Not exactly something she was unfamiliar with, at this point, given the stature of your average Garlean officer or any of the Empire's less savory magitek creations, though his partner mixed things up a bit. Water manipulation gave an opponent a lot of flexibility, and this Ci-Ci was no different. Unfortunately for him, however, this too was covered by Yayama's extensive experience. What she lacked in practice with Esaka's brand of regulated prize fighting and overall speed, she more than made up for with a breadth of battles and the tactics that had won them. She'd never fought a super soldier and an elemental water construct working in tandem like this, but she'd fought pairs of super soldiers, water constructs, and groups of elementals before. Yayama was pressured in her first round, but she continued what was quickly becoming a pattern: learning her opponent's moves and capabilities, then getting a clean victory in the next round after surviving the first.

After the match (and patching up her opponent, as she'd also begun making a habit of), she headed on over to where she'd been told about, bringing Charlotta along with her. These Power Stone Games sounded more her speed, really, and Yayama figured she'd use the spare time she had. I suppose it spares you from talking to me, doesn't it.

[DracoLunaris]

Words: 1,892 (+3)
Edward Portsmith: Level 9 (22 cells) (2 level ups stored) ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (37/90)
Location Frozen highlands - The Midnight Walk

Lecture Hall

Through the other door in the Archmage’s quarters Edward discovered a long chamber with a hammerbeam roof high overhead, its sturdy wooden arches connected by lengths of bronze chain. Two dark wood galleries, each with three tiers of benches, opposed one another with an open floorspace between them. Many candelabras, whether hanging, freestanding, or perched upon the lecterns, added to the natural (albeit dim) light let in through high stained glass windows. Painted portraits of sorcerous staff members were arrayed beneath a wooden walkway that ringed the whole room to form a second story. Books and other academic materials scattered around the room, as well as outcrops of an odd, dull purple crystal. Over the center of the room hung a huge astrolabe in an elaborate frame, glowing from within, and closer to the headmaster's pulpit (identifiable by the opulent gold-and-purple banners) was curled a huge wolf with rich orange-red fur. At the sound of Edward's intrusion, the beast's ears pricked up and it raised its head cautiously.

Edward had entered the chamber just as cautiously, a squad of copper golems ahead of him, his magelock pistol drawn, somadrix slipping in behind him. Still, just because he had his gun out, did not mean that his finger was on the trigger of it. For one thing that was just good gun safety, but it was also representative of his mindspace. The maze had yet to simply toss him into danger yet, and the possible threats within had turned out to be not so (or at least, more frustrating than dangerous).

Thus, he was of a mind to not jump to violence here, and instead holstered his weapon, stepped past his golems’ spear wall and raised a hand with an offer of ”Peace?”

Trying to do diplomacy with an oversized beast might have seemed a little silly to some, but they did have a goddess in wolf’s clothing on their side, and that was before you got to Edward’s experience with cooperating with various non-humanoid peoples

Sadly Edward's entreaty met with no understanding as the wolf pulled back its teeth and began to growl at the mob of intruders who had entered with drawn weapons. As its bristly hackles rose, it summoned a curved sword of rosy amber magic between its fangs, and gave a snarl that made its intentions clear.

Edward responded with a sighing ”Very well” and began to move a hand to his weapons again, only for his eyes to go wide when the wolf leaped high into the air. It hung there for a moment, before it came crashing down towards him to deliver a mighty metoric swing with its mouth held blade.

The Dreadnought hurled himself to the side of the blow, vanishing into a portal and appearing again at the side of the room as he did so. The blade, thus, instead crashed down into the ranks of copper golems he had been standing in front of, cleaving clear through half their number before shattering on the floor. The surviving golems did not flinch one inch however, and instead immediately lunged their spears towards the wolf, scoring thin cuts on its furred face.

They got a few more stabs in as it plunged in towards them in turn, jaws snapping and crushing, a tactic that fared far poorer than the blade had vs their metal forms. A re-summoned blade slashed in a cleaving arch meanwhile put an end to their existence, though not before they had scored several hits on the beast.

As it finished slicing the constructs apart however, it felt a chill as reinforcements moved in towards it. From the door it had finally squeezed through came the somnadrix with its absolute zero antlers, while from the side (summoned by Edward using his newly acquired staff) was a hulking Frost Atronach.

The somnadrix was faster and used its long neck to swing its antlers at the foe in an attack more like an ax swing than a goring charge. This unorthodox strike from the similarly sized impossible creature caught the wolf off guard enough that the freezing strike smashed into it, knocking it towards the Frost Atronach and leaving flash frozen blood on its freshly frosted fur. The Atronach in turn delivered a stab with its icicle-like arm to its other side while its stamina sapping chilling aura inhibited the wolf’s ability to recover.

Fortunately for the wolf, there was a bit of an anti-synergy in Edward’s magic, as the follow up blow from the Atronach’s club arm ignited it thanks to his searing weapon enchantment, which inadvertently warded off the cold sapping its strength. Energised by the burning heat, the wolf summoned a blade, swung it through the Frost Atronach, and then used the magically enhanced momentum of the swing to leap back towards the pulpit it had been resting by.

It landed gracefully, only to immediately recoil when a solid round, crackling with archfire, slammed into it courtesy of Edward’s smiting bishop magelock rifle. The rifle‘s shot then ignited the ground beneath it with a pool of electrical fire, prompting it to leap clear once more.

This wasn’t just an evasion strategy, but also an offensive one as it formed a quartet of starry blue knives to form in the air along its path, which hung there for a moment before lancing towards Edward. Sadly for it, the man’s response to this was to grab his frost staff that he’d rested against a book case and to then fully sprint into the shots, causing a fiery aura to devour the magic and to ignite the wolf with a faster burning dot for each attempted attack.

Just as these fires burned out, the cold came again, the somnadrix coming in with its own leaping strike, frozen antlers coming crashing down towards the wolf. The beast in turn lunged to the side, getting clipped on the hind thigh, causing it to stumble. The half missed strike meant the somdadrix’s antlers smacked into the floor, stunning it momentarily, but its frosted thigh and the threat of the incoming Frost Atronach restricted its ability to turn and take advantage of this.

Thus it instead hobbled forwards, summoning it’s blade in maw and cleaving into the lumbering Frost Atronach with two wide swipes followed by an overhead slam that left the summon cracked and broken. A moment after, it shattered into shards, but not in delayed response to these attacks. No, instead a cannonball came slamming straight through its chest before it (along with a shower of icy shrapnel) collided with the wolf as well. The source of this was Edward’s magelock cannon that he had commanded to roll over to the doorway in order to provide fire support, the man entirely willing to sacrifice an expendable summons in the name of landing a good shot.

The bleeding, burning, electrified and armor sundered wolf staggered, barely able to hold itself up, and was then brought down when the somnadrix raised up its long neck and delivered a frozen guillotine of a strike to it, scattering its ashes to the floor.

”Go in peace” Edward said as the fight came to a close, and he returned his magelock rifle to its holster before moving to collect the fallen spirit. He already had an idea of a use for it, he just had to hope he would find her in one piece in the maze somewhere.

With the guardian of the room put down, Edward set to work exploring it for useful artifacts. Naturally he was first drawn to the books and parchments scattered around the area. These, from a skim reading, appeared to all relate to fields of study known as ‘conspectuses ‘ that were taught at a place called the Academy of Raya Lucaria. The texts themselves were rather unwieldy, and all he could really glean was that the paintings on the walls were of ‘primeval sorcerers’ who had discovered/defined these fields of study.

He then took a look at the crystal cluster growing to one side of the room, but these seemed to be mundane and, due to being rather glassy in appearance, likely not worth much of anything. They did at least shatter in a satisfying way upon failing a hardness test via the but of Edward’s staff.

An even more satisfying shattering followed soon after, as Edward cracked open the astrolabe hung above the chamber, seeking the source of a magical glow radiating from its heart. This source of this turned out to be a Star Globe, which seemed to be a sort of casting catalyst that was sadly missing some key component needed for it to function as intended. Regardless of this, Edward had it stowed just in case the missing half could be found.

Having flown up to the astrolabe in order to crack it open, Edward was in position to take a look at the ring of balconies set just below the frosted over windows. Despite their ornamentation, however, these seemed to exist mainly for maintenance purposes, be it cleaning the windows or servicing the now broken astrolabe. As such, there was little of note to be found, other than, of all things, a bird’s nest. This nest contained several eggs, one of which was both much larger and weirder than the others.

The bird in question, however, was nowhere to be found, though Edward supposed it might be hiding as a result of all the noise he had been making since entering the room. Edward took the large speckled egg partially as an apology to said bird (as he assumed to belong to a cuckoo), and partially out of curiosity regarding its odd nature.

He then descended back down to the ground floor, where his somnadrix had sniffed out something interesting beneath one of the benches: a bookbag. Within he found three things of note. First a Glintstone Cometshard spell scroll. Second, a Condragon Tome that contained magics specialised in killing dragons. Thirdly, a note about the tome being being a piece of a puzzle, with the other pieces of said puzzle being able to be found in the Arcaneum.

Upon reading this, Edward’s eyes immediately lit up and, upon returning to the drawing room and using the Condragon Tome therein, so too did the drawing of a dragon found therein.

”One down, two to go. Now to find this ‘Arcaneum’ mentioned in the note” said, before turning and returning to the Lecture Hall, intending to open and lock down one of the two other doors found therein.

Edward has found

Spirit of the Red Wolf of Radagon
Star Globe: a casting catalyst wielded by Astrologians in conjunction with magical cards
Glintstone Cometshard spell scroll: with the scroll equipped, a mage can conjure Glintstone Cometshards using their casting resource, which deal moderate amount of pure magic damage, and leave a briefly lingering damaging trail behind them. These can be fired individually, briefly charged for extra damage (at no extra cost), or swiftly cast in a pair of spell shots.
Condragon Tome: a moderately powerful casting focus that causes spells cast with it to do extra damage to dragons.
Weird Egg: while equipped has a 10% chance, every ten seconds in combat, to spawn a permanent friendly fetus companion (details found here) that will persist until death.

[DracoLunaris]

wordcount: 1,278 (+3)(+3)
Location: Forbidden Kingdom - Esaka’s High Tier
Amaterasu: level 9 (1 level up stored) EXP: ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (75/90)

In the moments before the starting bell, the fighters had a few moments to exchange words, though naturally, in Amaterasu and Jun Kazama’s case, this dialog was fairly onesided. Just not as quite so as the reserved woman might have expected.

“I am glad to see you made it into a tournament, Amaterasu, and can only hope that my letter was of some help with that” she said, before offering a short bow as she said “I wish you luck in your run” before straightening and dropping into a fighting pose as she “but know that I will hold nothing back despite our acquaintance, and that I expect nothing but the same from you”

The women had expected any reply to come in body language, and so almost missed the appearance of the words “IT WAS” and “TRUE FIGHT” being drawn in the air before her using gravity defying streams of water that materialised from the pool surrounding them. She did see them, however, and when she did her eyes went just a little wider. They went wider still when the bell rang and the heavenly principles took hold of them, revealing to her eyes the truth of Amaterasu that was normally hidden from mortal eyes.

“Divine indeed” she said to herself after a breath (all it took to steady her surprise) before more loudly saying “come then, let us put the truth of you to the test” with a beckoning flick of her hand.

Amaterasu let out her own breath, still not quite used to the touch of the heavenly principles, before digging her claws into the stone of the stage’s floor and rushing forwards, an aura of blossom streaking behind her as her divine weaponry hovered above her back.

From what she’d observed, she suspected the sheer speed involved might take her opponent by surprise, and though to Jun’s credit she was by no means panicked by the impending rushdown, this didn’t stop the divine wolf from delivering a solid headbutt to her gut, knocking her back.

Unlike with her prior opponent however, Amaterasu did not intend to stick simply to these blunter, mundane blows, and instead whipped out her divine beads, grasping one in her maw before lashing the whip like weapon forwards to strike across the gap she herself had put in place.

The beads battered Jun once, twice, thrice, but on the fourth of the rapid fire strikes the woman caught onto her rhythm, bringing up her arms to block the blow. Then she took a step forwards as the lash was drawn back, and blocked the second blow. Then another step and another block.

By this point the divine wolf was considering switching tactics, only to be taken aback when Jun sidestepped the next blow instead, and lunged inside of the divine wolf’s guard to deliver an elbow jab, then spun round to deliver a second jab with the other elbow, before slamming a backhand down into the wolf, knocking her back in turn. Each blow was accompanied by a burst of red energy particles that fluttered like a scattering of flower petals, adding to the force of the blows.

It was clear that the woman was no mere brawler, but that didn’t really change Amaterasu’s assessment of the woman. She was always going to be more experienced at this kind of fighting, how much harm she could inflict with her blows just cut down the divine wolf’s timeline when it came to overcoming that knowledge gap.

Case and point, Jun slipping a low kick under Amaterau’s guarding sun disk, before delivering a pair of punches over the top of it and then finally spinning a mid level kick into her, sending the wolf flying away to land on her back.

Variance. That was key.

The wolf rolled to her feet to avoid a follow up stomp, then leap over the subsequent leg sweep and slamming her sundisk down onto Jun, before finally using her double jump to leap away from an attempted anti-air uppercut.

The wolf whipped out a lash with her divine beads again before lunging towards and sweeping her sun disk low, slipping under the guard that had blocked the bead stroke. The hit knocked Jun to her knees, bringing her low enough that Amatarasu could grab her arm and then hurl her up and over her back, launching Jun skywards. Up there, the divine wolf hit her with a burst of beads fired machinegun style, before the woman crashed down to the ground, landing on her back.

Despite being knocked down, Jun did not let the divine wolf close the gap herself, nor did she move to retreat. Instead she pushed herself into a curled tumble towards Amaterasu, before lunging out of the roll in forward lunge, slamming both forearms into the wolf, who was knocked back as the woman landed in second roll and then bounced back to her feet.

The wolf pulled herself up in turn, and the two closed, trading blows and blocks, chipping at each other with neither one landing a decisive hit. At least until Jun dodged to the side and delivered an overhead kick that burst not just with energy but with a blast of wind as well, that pushed Amaterasu dangerously close to the edge of the arena.

Jun then rushed forwards at unprecedented speed, the wind rushing at her back, her arms and legs now burning with a misty blue flame.

Amaterasu wasn't exactly aware of what the heat system Jun had just activated was, but it did remind her of the rules of the heavenly principles, namely that resources had to be built up by landing hits. Without even looking to see if she’d charged enough, the wolf focused and spent the moment she might have been able to avoid the first strike of incoming empower attacks to focus, and make the world her canvas.

Time, for her, paused, and she took a moment to calm herself.

Reflect.

Then panic, as the heavenly principles casually broke into her reprieve and added a timer to it that hissed like the fuse of a bomb, threatening doom should she abuse this state for too long.

She floundered around for a resource to use, before going for something simple. Her brush dabbed the ground between herself and Jun, and then drew upwards, then let time resume. When it did, a tree was suddenly in Jun’s way, one which her heat dash crashed into, briefly disorientating her.

It gave the divine wolf time to get to her feet and go on the offensive, lunging round the flash grown obstacle and attacking her from the side. Here, again, they traded blows, but now on the edge of the disk, where little ground behind them, and even less to one side. However, in this heat mode, Jun’s blows explosively pierced Amaterasu's blocks, chipping away at her, and thanks to the heavenly principle’s equalising rules, she charged her heat back up as she did damage.

However, Amaterasu also charged as they traded blows, and this time, when she paused time, she didn’t need to be chased by the timer.

Instead, she drew a circle with a line extending from it, creating a massive cherry bomb to their side. Then, she paused again as the woman started to react to the surprise explosive, and stole fire from one of Captain Falcon’s punches, drawing from it to the fuse, instantly detonating the explosive.

The resulting festive blast hit both of the fighters clear off of the side of the stage, but only one of them could double jump.

As Amaterasu sprung back towards the ledge and scrabbled back onto it, Jun splashed down behind her, winning the divine wolf her first match via ring out.

[Double]

Word Count: 1,149
Level 6 Captain Falcon: 95/60
Exp Gained: +2
NEW EXP Balance--- 97/60

Esaka, The Pools

Captain Falcon and Lei had already moved several paces away from where the teams had been standing together in order to give themselves space to inevitably square off. The bounty hunter was quick to notice the badge that was clipped to the waistband of Lei's pants. The man was obviously a cop or lawman of some kind. And being something of a lawbringer himself, Cap had to give some respect to the detective he was now about to face.

In the audience, several yokai began to recall Falcon’s match against Lee Dao-Long of the Breakers Team. “That Captain’s been gettin’ lucky, mark my words.” sneered one particular viewer wearing a Jin Kazama costume.

“Well, those three ARE from the Tekken Dojo.” added someone else in reluctant agreement.

“Not just ANY Tekken fighters,” The Jin Cosplayer said, “They’re the Kazama’s! That makes them related to King Heihachi himself! And Wulong ain’t no slouch either! He’s called the Super Cop for a reason! Without Terry this team’s cooked!”

”Best of luck to you, Officer.” Falcon said as he performed his opening stretches, trying his best to ignore the jeers he could pick up on.

The detective paused his own stretches as if confused a moment before seemingly remembering that his badge was visible on his waistline, offering a sheepish grin. “Ah, right. Uh, you too, Captain.” Then he put himself through a series of rapid katas, seeming to cycle between a handful of animal forms before settling on the Snake, widening the stance of his legs while his flattened hands were pointed forward at different angles to mimic the appearance of a snake preparing to lunge.

Captain Falcon threw a few phantom punches of his own before tightening and settling into his own trademarked fighting stance. ”Show me your moves!”

---

_{CAPTAIN FALCON VS. LEI WULONG
READY… GO!}

---

When Lei didn't immediately go to strike, the purpose of his chosen stance became slightly more apparent. He was still assessing his opponent and very likely decided that trading blows was not the best of course of action. Falcon himself vaguely registered the animal-based forms the detective had moved through but wasn’t too familiar with the specifics of them. As such his choice was to just move in and test the waters.

Cap lunged forward a step, pausing briefly to try and feint Lei out before committing to a double spin kick. And it was surprising when Lei opted to not dodge, but instead used his snake stance hands to catch Falcon’s leg on the second and redirect the momentum to his side. And not a split second after Falcon was able to orient himself into a landing, he found himself taking a series of rapid palm strikes against his ribs and chest, barely able to back away before Lei’s finishing spin kick could catch him across the head.

”So that’s the game…” Falcon muttered to himself as he quickly recovered from Lei’s counterattack. This told him that the detective was likely unable to take Falcon’s techniques head on and was instead focusing on evasion over raw power. In that case, the Captain would just have to counter speed with speed. Falcon lunged again, this time not bothering to try a feint. He launched a series of rapid punches, weak individually but capable of quickly building cumulative damage if enough of them connected.

Lei leaned out of the first punch’s path before catching the second one by striking at his opponent’s wrist with his palm to redirect it elsewhere. And he managed this for the following several punches as well, beginning to showcase why he was famously known as the Super Cop as he went on the counterattack, managing to land a double palm strike square against Falcon’s chest that sent the bounty hunter staggering back several paces. But unlike before, Lei didn’t end his offense there. He sprinted a few steps and then spun his whole body into a series of three fullbody roundhouse kicks that his fans knew as the Tornado Kick technique.

Cap barely had time to avoid the incoming trio of kicks, doing so requiring to go on the backfoot as he retreated step after step. But a glance behind him reminded the F-Zero pilot that ringout rules applied. If the detective managed to back him up far enough he could try to win by ringout rather than needing to overpower his techniques. So Cap instinctively flung his arm, ”Ryuugeki Sen!” and he threw a fire disc Lei’s way. The cop dodged easily enough, but Cap was using that to give himself a moment to try and lunge forward again. This time he went sailing into Lei with an electrified ”Knee Of Justice!”

Wulong tried to redirect the attack like he’d done previously, but the lightning infusion made that harder to do and he wound up getting knocked back a step instead, and even fully fell onto the arena floor as well! But something about this was off, as Cap was quick to assess. His Knee smash hadn’t been quite that powerful, so it seemed a bit suspicious that the detective would take a fall from it. Cautiously he swept his leg, ”Ryuugeki Sen!” and sent a low fire disc at Lei’s prone body. But Lei rolled out of the way to the side and then literally spring-kicked himself back onto his feet. But something was off again. His stance looked… weak and downright unstable as he appeared to wobble back and forth lazily.

Cap knew there was no way he could have been weakened this early on. If anything he looked like he suddenly had far too much to drink. Cap lunged and unleashed a series of rapid kicks, ”Gen’ei Kyaku!” that Lei just lazily and drunkenly pivoted around. His erratic movements had successfully made him a lot harder to read and lock onto. Just then Captain Falcon heard the familiar sound of a shower of gold coins that he recognized as the signature technique that the twins used to knock out Abigail. And unfortunately the sight of it off to the side in another part of the arena was enough to distract Falcon for a fraction of a second.

And that was all Lei needed as he lunged into a double rotation, each one delivering a palm strike on Captain Falcon before the Super Cop grabbed the pilot’s shoulders and jumped up to deliver a double leg kick square on Falcon’s chest that send him sprawling across the arena floor and dangerously closer to the arena’s edge. And then he resumed his seemingly drunken movements as he watched Cap stagger back to his feet. Between his ability to change his fighting style seemingly on a whim and one of them being this erratic and unpredictable Drunken Master style, Captain Falcon was suddenly realizing what bind he was finding himself caught in right now…

To Be Continued

[Yankee]

Winterhold College - An In-Coven-ient Truth

Ace - Level: 9 - Total EXP: 519/90
Level 7 Heismay (58/70) Sectonia
Word Count: 1797 (+3 exp)

Tension in the Aurelian Nexus continued to skyrocket as the Cadet and Heismay scrambled to deal as much damage as they could to the crimson ritual candles before the abominable conglomerate of bodies they were fighting could finish whatever it was trying to do. Their adrenaline pumped as they worked to demolish one together, spurring them to hack at the dense waxen surface faster and faster until the candle finally crumbled, its unnatural flame snuffed out. As soon as the fire died, so too did the demonic symbol above it vanished. But if the Seekers had hoped that snuffing out one flame would compromise the whole ritual, they would be disappointed. The candles at the other four points of the pentagram burned bright, and as a third body stretched up from the Coven in mad adulation, they seemed to blaze brighter still.

The twisted voices of the conjoined tormented howled as one, unleashing Famine. Swarms of flies descended, quickly surrounding the Seekers to harry and blind them even as the remaining poison frogs continued their sticky assault. Growling, Heismay executed a flurry of attacks, but even his swift flashing blade could do little to meaningfully reduce the flies’ numbers. Instead he leaped into the air, beating his wings for even greater height and to buffet the flies back. Two frogs opened wide and shot their tongues at him, and only by wall-jumping off a sheer surface with Vauban’s Warframe agility did he manage to avoid their grasp. With a flip he soared through the chamber and landed on the opposite side of the Coven from Ace, next to another candle. Before he got started, though, he couldn't help but sneak a fearful glance at the Coven, anxious of what it might do next. The eugief couldn’t shake that sinking feeling that he was running out of time.

This type of fighting, while annoying to be sure, was normally not enough to wind the monster hunter - not even close. Yet as the seconds marched on and their progress remained slow, beads of sweat formed on his brow and rolled down. Battling a time limit, an unknown one at that, added a level of stress that was just compounded by the blob's unsettling chanting and casting.

Ace glanced towards the door on one side of the chamber. Realistically, nothing was stopping he and Heismay from simply abandoning the fight. It might hurt their pride a little, but they could retreat before the spell was finished casting, leaving whatever horrible results to an empty room.

...but the thought of leaving this thing to its own devices and one of the other Seekers later stumbling into something worse because of that did not sit right with him. It was bad luck, but like it or not it was their responsibility now. Shirking that responsibility would feel worse than any bruise to the ego.

It was almost like a wake up call, slipping through the wary haze that always distracted Ace in these magical situations. In the interest of putting a stop to this before it could potentially hurt anyone else wandering through the maze the brain fog briefly cleared and the hunter thought, what if they didn't have to destroy the candles and could just snuff the flames themselves?

Ace had already stopped trying to clear the flies away from him, and he weathered the light battering of a nearby frog as he took a moment to swap weapons again and load a new elemental ammo.

"Heismay--!" he started to call out, intending to let the eugief know his plan, when the room's doors opened suddenly to permit two new visitors, exactly what Ace had thought might happen.

From one monster to another, as Sectonia entered the new room and saw the hideous creature in front of her she understood the assignment right away. ”ANOTHER horrible monster? Is this place just some prison to be cleansed?” Sectonia said with righteous rage as she started to help clear the flies and frogs from the area with her area magic. A death pulse for any that got near her, and rays or rings of cleansing light hitting things from afar. Although without knowing what was going on, she’d be clearing out and dealing damage to everything without any focus.

“Finally, a stroke of luck!” Heismay crowed as the frogs and especially flies began to melt away.

More hands to help put a stop to the ritual was good, and Sectonia was an excellent hand for that indeed, but the indiscriminate spray of spells from the queen bee choked Ace's words in his throat and threw his aim off. The water shots he'd loaded into the bowgun were finite, and the first couple slammed uselessly into the ground of the magic circle.

"Sectonia!" the Cadet called after forcing out a breath. "It's got kut-kurazy tough skin - we've been trying to put out those candles!"

While he said that Ace had backed up, away from the center of the room to give himself some breathing space. What flies still survived Sectonia's wrath followed after him, but they were the least of his concern. He took another breath, steadier this time, pointing the barrel of the bowgun at the nearest candle to try dousing it with the water ammo again. Pss. In one unceremonious instant the liquid shot doused the flame, leaving the candle with nothing but a thin wisp of smoke spiraling upward, the sigil above it vanished.

As Ace made his discovery, Heismay continued to hack away at another candle. Without as many pests around to distract and disrupt him he could fully focus on the task, but the eugief wasn’t exactly built for pure damage output. Thanks to all the chaos he hadn’t noticed his comrade’s stroke of genius, either. It would take him more time to demolish his target, maybe more time than he or the other Seekers had. As he slashed again and again at the dense, unyielding blood-red wax, he could only hope that whatever was coming would be weaker with these ritual elements destroyed.

Soon after Sectonia and Mokou arrived to help turn the tides of the frantic battle, the Coven gathered its strength for another spell. Three pairs of nubby arms waved wildly as three crazed voices howled unintelligible curses, declaring War. Twenty molten globules shot outward from their position and created foot-wide pools of lava where they splashed down, increasing the temperature of the Aurelian Nexus to a hellish degree in a matter of seconds. A fourth and final body arose from the Coven, and as it did it cast a flicker of flame toward the candle Ace snuffed out to relight it.

Heismay noticed an incoming projectile in time and managed to dodge, but to say he had a bad feeling about where this was going was an understatement. “Come on!” He growled as he assumed his Assassin form and plunged his curved greatsword into the candle, though even that did not quite destroy it. “Damn it!” He plied his strength against his weapon like a crowbar, hoping to split the candle in half.

Sectonia looked at the candles and the lava being summoned at this point and had an idea to deal with both. Waving her hands she summoned 5 ice antlers which were commanded to just freeze the candles, fire, and lava. She then moved to using Void Globules at the Coven in between summoning more Ice antlers and flying above the battlefield to not touch the lava itself until it was thoroughly frozen. Although thanks to having used a lot of her mana on Shadow Fred just earlier, she would need to ‘land’ to regain more thanks to one of her spirits.

The new position separated from the ritual circle was a better vantage point for the Cadet, from which he was able to evade the one blob of lava that got thrown his way. He crouched a few feet from where it landed noting that though it wasn't spreading none of the lava looked like it was fading or cooling. He also could see that the flame he'd doused had just been re-lit - but the fact that it had bothered to relight it in the first place meant that it actually did need these candles for whatever spell it was casting. Destroying them was taking way too long even if it would prevent them from being lit again, but with four candles left and four Seekers fighting, maybe...

Unsure of the antler's ability to handle the heat, Ace took aim again. "Try and keep the fire out while we break them!" He shouted to the others. That way maybe it would buy them more time, or if all of the flames were put out at once it would ruin the magic. Whatever worked. He put out the same candle he was fighting over the Coven with, then shot at the one on the next point of the pentagram to douse that one too.

Although the antlers’ ice breath wasn’t cold enough to freeze the lava and could only reduce its temperature incrementally, their efforts turned out to be much more effective against the candle flames. Seconds after Ace re-extinguished the one relit by the Coven, the antlers put out two more candles, including the one Heismay had been trying to destroy. “...Oh.” After staring for a moment, he shifted from Assassin to Gunner and loaded a Poison Shot, taking aim at the last candle. The Cadet beat him to the punch, however, and spared him the need to spend more MP. “Well struck!” As he shifted back to normal, Heismay turned his eyes toward the Coven. Now that all five candles were either broken or snuffed out, what would happen next?

Even without the candles, though, the Coven’s four bodies began their final invocation: Death. As their berserk dance reached its zenith, and their babbling cries filled the room, the air pressure changed suddenly. In the empty space directly above the maniacal amalgamation, a dark blot welled up from nothing, sprouting features that shifted and slid around as it grew. Slitted eyes, gnarled horns, floppy limps and toothy maws formed and unformed until the abomination took its final shape, a spherical demonic mass of grotesquely haphazard asymmetricality. When its eyes finally opened, lolling around in its sockets, they peered down at the Coven gibbering and flailing beneath it in a celebratory frenzy. Then the beast fell upon them, its mouths opening wide to devour the cancerous mass chunk after messy chunk. The Tormentor roared, the hideous sound loud enough to be deafening, and floated forward to attack.

[XoXKieroBombXoX]

(Temporary header) RAMATTRA:

“You… Two?” Ramattra spoke aloud- approaching Tipp and Pill, propping himself on his staff to account for his mild wounds. “You spoke of being couriers, yes? Perhaps I could assist in one of your deliveries? I’m looking for work at the moment while I figure out my surroundings.”

The two Aphids glanced at one another, as if contemplating the Omnic’s offer. They didn’t seem terribly horrified by his appearance, but the Null Sector Commander was almost certain they viewed him as intimidating- or not suited for the job… Then after a moment of thought, the taller of the two insects reached into an oddly woven pack behind him and offered a package containing four liquor bottles. “If you run into Marla Mr. Three-legs, give these to her- She’ll be at the Sinner’s Inn! These’ll be fragile to be delivering though, so we must ask you be take carefulness!”

Ramattra Found

Capea Gin
Medusa Rum
Seaweed Liquor
Vintage Nectar

Before he decided to leave the room, he reconciled with the Wandsalesman one last time- offering a lance-like weapon he had used to slay the Frosty Bulborb. It was quite a handy weapon- but Ramattra had already developed a great technique with his scimitar biology. “For the wand. The uh… ‘minor arcana’ wand… I’d like to trade this fascinating weapon that uses technology to heat the blade structure of the weapon.”

The vendor investigated the object for a moment, collecting it from the Omnic as they twisted and eyed it down. They shrugged, thumbing the Omnic up as they approved the trade. Ramattra just hoped he wasn’t getting wool pulled over his eyes for its magical ability, though he had the feeling the trader got the better end of the bargain.

With the room now thoroughly investigated and all three residents spoken too- Ramattra felt that he had swept everything he could do here at the moment. It was time to move on. Kashmir was beginning to grow bored as well.

He pushed the door beyond it’s threshold, revealing the room behind its contents…

---

Prayer Room

As the heavy door to the next available room crept open from the Omnic’s effort, Ramattra examined the room with a familiar eye. Certainly, this place was used for prayer, meditation, or something else of spiritual origin. Something about the room’s architecture felt… connected to the dungeon he and Edward had obtained the Medallion from… As he entered the building, the heavy door closed behind him, officially losing it’s previous contents. Could this structure have once been a sister building to the abandoned lift? With weary eyes, the Omnic would cast his staff down for a moment and deposit his weapons on top of the first pew in the room.

The chapel was silent- and decorated with dark oak pews, all witnessing a marvelously intact statue at the center of its pedestal. The fallen leaves, patches of overgrowth, and smog-coated glass-stained windows contextualized some of the room’s age to the Omnic, though for what it was, this was a very rare moment of silence and solitude for Ramattra.

“I haven’t been much for faith- or dedication to any deity.” The Omnic admitted, as he approached the marvelous, robed figure watching over the room silently. He’s had quite the taste of magic these past few days, so standing eye to eye with the likeness of another world’s greater being was more likely than he previously thought. “But this world is harsh, and I need further strength to continue my quest.”

“I know what is at stake now, and I ask for a blessing- in hope you are a benevolent being. I offer my tribute, along with a shrapnel of faith toward your power.” There was mild deceit in his mind, not exactly keen on returning to a life of spirituality, especially to an unknown entity, but if the powerful deity was benign, then there was a spark of hope in his circuitry that they could help him in his passage through Winterhold College… Though he wouldn’t let himself get too carried away. Inches from the statue, he retrieved a handful of something from his pocket- two golden medallions adorned with the symbols of helmets, and placed them gently at the foot of the statue.

Sadly, no change occurred with the statue, and no blessings rained down upon the Omnic. The figure before him remained a simple slab of carved stone, and yet the act supplication seemed to rouse something deep within Ramattra, however slight. His springs were reacting, in a manner comparable to the hairs on the back of a human's neck rising. It was a curious sensation, but to no obvious benefit, especially any material one. Perhaps it would be wise to return later, if possible.

Before continuing his investigation, Ramattra took note of the candles scattered about the room- some still dripping wax from the wick being aflame… Was this also some sort of otherworldly anomaly? Or had someone been lighting these candles themselves?

Regardless, this had been the first moment of quietness the Omnic had completely to himself. He’d sit in meditation at the center front of the room, inches from the statue- the smell of burning candles and incense filled the room, though it was foreign to any of Ramattra’s senses. It reminded him of home- in a way. The dim lighting provided by candlelight and stained glass felt familiar in a way, and brought a warm calmness to his morale.

Meditative rest by the glimmering, golden site of grace before the statue did prompt some kind of effect. Its balmy glow seemed to 'reset' him, removing all active buffs and debuffs. In essence, since Ramattra had not been in combat, this merely undid the changes conferred by his interaction with the Eye of Magnus previously. He was back to normal, not accounting for his fusion-induced changes. It was pleasant to have his body back to its usual form, and now he had the ability to disclose the Eye’s powerful ability to his teammates- should he run into them later down the line.

Then, Ramattra heard a noise in the nearby curtained room. Perhaps he should have cleared this room more thoroughly, though he had the feeling that he would have been attacked by now if there were any threats. Still, he drew his scimitar from his chest, clutching the curtain slowly to the side, his weapon obscured out of view from anywhere within the room

Within the side chamber Ramattra discovered a bizarre and disturbing being. Before him sat a large blob of paint topped by a hideous, distended, eyeless face, as if a mustached human had been unceremoniously splattered across a canvas. Below the wobbling, droopy head, in the body of the thing proper, two lidless eyes peered out at him. Before he could attack, however, the being spoke in a viscous voice. "It's okay! It's okay! I'm not your enemy!" he insisted, raising his many limbs like a civilian at gunpoint. "I know I look odd, but I just want to help. I can patch you up if you're hurt. I have a gift. It takes a lot out of me, but I can help. I don't want to fight.".

The Omnic looked at the creature in horror for a moment before hearing out its explanation, and discerning that most of this odd creature’s biology looked similar to… was that paint? “Ah. I’m glad you didn’t attack me then. I suppose I don’t look the most welcoming either.” He looked around the quiet side chamber, making sure the monster truly had no foul intentions. Once he had scoped it out, he turned his gaze back on the… thing. “You ought to announce yourself next time. Some people can be more cautious.”

He tapped his staff to the ground. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! I promise! Just… urgh… this headache is killing me… I can patch you up no issue, but if you could help, I can repay you greatly alongside that!” The monstrosity promised. Ramattra nodded, as he bowed his head out of the chamber, and back into the prayer room.

[Lugubrious]

Esaka, the Tiered City - the Pools

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (234/150) Level 11 Big Band (157/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1641 / 1051

Nadia grunted as she picked herself up from the sandy ground, a pointed sidelong look sent at her partner-in-crime Robo-fortune who’d been right next to her and more than capable of helping her up. Robo just stood there with her arms crossed, though, and did not so much as glance her way. Instead she stared at the pair’s opposition, hopefully performing some kind of helpful analysis, although Nadia wouldn’t put it past her Kameo to be spiting her instead. Nadia could already imagine all the patronizing criticism that’d be heaped upon her if she tried to talk strategy in any way, so rather than try to appeal to the implacable task master she tried to wrap her head around Taokaka and Bullet herself.

Speed was clearly Taokaka’s primary advantage, used to rush her opponents down and mix them up so fast that it made their heads spin. The feral knew the strategy well, since it happened to be hers too. Her foes weren’t hitting like wet noodles either, with Bullet in particular packing a real punch. In that case, defense had to be their weakness. Nadia didn’t really have any strong evidence for that guess, she just figured that nobody could be good at everything. If she could make some good calls, start her pressure, and bait some reversals, she’d probably be golden. Plus, she could do something that Taokaka evidently couldn’t: use her head. That would be her key to victory.

By now, her opponents were done with their celebratory showboating. Taokaka and Bullet strolled back toward the center of the arena, the latter straightening her jacket with a cocky smirk. “Good work, ‘Kaka,” she told her partner. “We cooked ‘em. One round down, one to go.”

“Hey, don’t count meowt just yet! I’m nyat finished with you!” Nadia declared, grinning as she pulled off her coat and tossed it away to leave just her singlet and boots.

That only seemed to make Taokaka happier. “Ooh, yay! I love toys that don’t break easily. I’m gonna call you…Blue Eyes!”

The hair on Nadia’s neck stood on end when she thought about the nickname for more than two seconds. “Hey wait, not that!” she protested. In a rare moment of clarity, she remembered that being free of Galeem’s sunset-red eyes wasn’t something she wanted advertised in this world. “C’mon, anythin’ else!”

For a moment Taokaka seemed perplexed. Then her toothy smile widened again. “Okay, then I’m gonna call you Big Sister, since you’re like me but bigger.” She giggled, then assumed her fighting stance. “Let’s keep playing, Big Sister!”

Nadia shrugged, then sharpened her claws. Good enough.

ROUND TWO: FIGHT!

Like lightning, Takaka sprinted forward again. This time, Nadia dashed, then whipped around as she pulled her own arm off and hurled it forward like a bolas. “Lemme give you a hand!”

Centripetal force extended her arm’s muscle fibers as it flew, increasing its reach, and Taokaka ran right into it. She yelped as the warm, bloody cords and arm segments wrapped around her, restraining her arms before Nadia’s hand grabbed her by the throat. “Hurk!”

As she struggled, the feral ran forward, pulling off her head to hurl like a bowling ball. “Strike you down!” Her head rolled across the stage, slammed into Taokaka’s ankle, and knocked her off her feet. She let out a muffled cry as sand filled her hood, the air driven from her lungs. As she closed in, Nadia turned around to hook her foot beneath her foe’s head, then launch Taokaka by the cranium with Limber Up. “Heads up!” Taokaka flipped up and backward, straight toward Nadia’s head as she launched herself upward with a sneeze. “Ah-CHOO!” The flying headbutt hit home and bounced Taokaka back toward Nadia.

In a stroke of inspiration, the cat burglar jumped up to grab her out of the air and land with her the way she’d seen Beowulf do. Miraculously it worked, and after kneeing Taokaka in the gut twice, Nadia grabbed the arm she’d wrapped around her foe by the bicep and pulled. It sent the other catgirl spinning backward like a top, and after she reattached her arm, Nadia unleashed her Cat Scratch rekka. “Robo, blast her!” Two slashes paved the way for an El Gato somersault axe kick to groundbounce, at which point she landed in Robo-fortune’s heavy Theonite Beam. After a second, once the pink ray died down and Robo retreated, Nadia extended both arms to grab Taokaka and pull her in. She hopped up and planted both feet on her opponent’s chest in a drop kick, then spun her lower legs like drills for good measure, until a blast of blood pushed the two apart.

“Bluh!” Taokaka hit the ground and rolled, spitting a mixture of sand and blood out of her mouth. “Peh! Peh! Yucky!” When she looked up, there was murder in her round red eyes. “Butt Floss, get ‘em!”

“On it!” Bullet surged forward and used her gauntlet to charge up a Flint Shooter. She eyed Nadia for a moment, then turned to target her detached head as she unleashed a crawling firebomb.

“Uh oh.” Nadia turned her head around and sprayed blood from her neck like a thruster to scoot away from the blast, but the explosion went off close enough to still send her singed head flying. “Yowch!” Her body ran toward it, but so did Taokaka, and the two converged with a resounding clash. Taokaka lashed out with quick slashes that Nadia withstood before shoving her back with a pushblock. Her rival retaliated with a deceptively fast, long-reaching slide kick that set up for a meaty double-palm strike. “Oof,” Nadia grunted as she staggered backward.

Rather than push forward, though, Taokaka turned to bat at Nadia’s head. She launched it up, then playfully smacked it around. When Nadia’s body attempted a more or less blind counterattack, Taokaka ducked beneath it, then hit the falling head with a hipcheck that shot the head straight into Nadia’s belly like a cannonball. “Stop hitting yourself!” Taokaka sang, following up with the magenta slashes of Cat Spirit One.

“Don’t play with your food!” Bullet jumped into finish the combo with Bullet Crossfire, a rocket palm that blasted Nadia into the ground and left her easy pickings for a hefty rolling heel drop.

Nadia scooted backward and sprang to her feet as Taokaka rushed in. As the feral blocked the assault, she called in Robo-fortune to perform Scroll Heel, a low sliding saw kick that forced Taokaka to block instead. Nadia hopped up to perform an quick slash as fast as she could, but Taokaka was even faster, rising to block the overhead. Double-jumping with a somersault, Nadia twisted around in the air to do the same attack again from the other side, and Taokaka adjusted accordingly. She did not, however, account for Nadia’s detached head biting her calm from behind. “WAHH!”

“Gotcha!” Nadia’s Claws for Alarm landed, and her combo began. A dizzying flurry of slashes, kicks, and hyperextended blows kept Taokaka in hitstun long enough for Robo to be able to pitch in again. For the first time, the doppelganger came in to provide a combo extension with the electric explosion of Grounding Pound. That let Nadia keep the pain train rolling with a tandem assault from her headless body and detached head, finishing with the plunging stab of Feral Edge. “Knife to beat you!”

After thrusting Taokaka against the ground, Nadia cartwheeled off her. The other catgirl rose sluggishly, breathing heavily, so she had to be on her last legs for this round. She definitely had Bullet in her corner, though, and Nadia couldn’t call on Robo-fortune yet, so this final exchange was anyone’s game. Sure enough, Bullet charged forward to perform a dash into low sweep as Taokaka took to the sky, claws at the ready. It was a pincer attack, and it was impossible for Nadia to guess who would ultimately strike first.

So she decided not to guess. Nadia darted forward straight forward into Bullet’s shapely legs and took the hard knockdown early, which made Taokaka’s descending Cat Spirit Three slash whiff. Before Taokaka could pull off the move’s follow-up launcher, Nadia interrupted her with Ángel’s Tekitou Rush throw: a palm strike, knee lift, and palm uppercut finisher. Taokaka yelped and landed flat on her back with a whimper, her eyes replaced by cartoonish red spirals.

“Yes!” Nadia raised, hyper-extended, and then pumped her fist.

ROUND TWO: MS FORTUNE AND ROBO-FORTUNE WIN!

The two rounds had been like night and day. Just as Nadia hoped, Taokaka had proved herself incapable of tracking both Nadia and her noggin at the same time, even seemingly forgetting about the head on more than one occasion. “Now that’s what I call usin’ your head!” she crowed. Sure, it might be full of sawdust, but even a box of sawdust could be a potent weapon in the right hands.

“Don’t get complacent like they did,” Robo warned her. “They will not take us lightly in the final round.”

“Ugh, killjoy,” Nadia complained, but she knew that her Kameo was right. They weren’t out of the woods just yet.

---

When Band roused himself with a rumbly groan and heaved himself to his feet, he was worried, but not panicking. He had only a few precious seconds before the next round to put his investigative skills to work and figure out what went wrong, as well as what he could change. Despite his opponent’s disproportionately long arms, reach wasn’t really the problem. He could strike from farther away, especially if he made better use of his spring-loaded Lokjaws. Potemkin wasn’t meaningfully faster than him either.

Actually, the more Band thought about it, the more similar he and Potemkin seemed, even if he lacked any high-tech force fields. The hulking Indian’s Hammerfall mirrored his own Brass Knuckles, and Slide Head served the same purpose as Giant Steps, which meant that he would need to watch his feet if he tried to fight from farther away. Most damning was that anti-air hitgrab, which if he heard it right, was called ‘Heat Extend’...a single letter’s difference from his own Beat Extend. That felt too blatant to be a coincidence. But what possible other explanation could there be? Maybe the similarity stemmed from the life of a past Big Band? Well, regardless, the detective was getting a taste of his own medicine, and he did not like it one bit.

The most concrete difference Band could find (in the brief window afforded to him) was that Potemkin’s more grappling-heavy skillset prioritized raw, oppressive damage over combo length. That wasn’t something Band could really abuse, since it put more emphasis on correct reads than execution, but it was all he had to keep in mind as the light of the Heavenly Principles welled up again. This was it: make or break.

ROUND TWO: FIGHT!

The detective had a plan. If he got a little distance, his much more disjointed Giant Step would help him control space and get into an advantageous position. He stepped back, and as he did Potemkin did something strange. He pushed forward as if to execute a kick, then stopped himself, and the result was a short slide toward Band. Though slight and nigh-unnoticeable, it gave him just the distance he needed to take Band off guard and hoist him off his feet. “Aw, no!”

“POTEMKIN-!” The giant stretched Band’s bell-shaped body across his shoulders as he sprang up, then crashed down with another back-breaking explosion. “BUSTER!”

That hurt a hell of a lot, but as he hurled Band away, the cyborg rolled to his feet. He was still in this and could still crack this case. Potemkin closed the distance fast with Hammerfall. Band stood tall and put up his guard the instant he could, only for his foe to whiff what looked like a headbutt just a foot or so shy. Perfect! Band stuck out his leg to get a combo started with Hot Socks, only for Potemkin’s giant hands to clamp around his sides. “Huh!?”

“Forty-eighth secret art!” Potemkin’s gauntlets blazed, lifting his (and Band’s) massive weight two stories off the ground. When the two slammed back down, the impact was practically meteoric. “POTEMKIN BUSTER!”

This time Band hit the ground harder and rose slower, now at the corner of the stage, his chassis dented and smoking. He gritted his teeth, bewildered and frustrated. If his foe had his own Brass Knuckle, it stood to reason that he’d have his own Emergency Break, too. Whether he’d just made a stupid mistake or that command grab really was just that good, a Potemkin Buster could not be allowed to happen a third time. And yet, his opponent was already trudging forward as Band held back, with no need for Hammerfall at this distance. The detective watched as his foe slid forward again, his arms already raised for another grab, and bet everything on a light Take the A Train.

Miraculously, his own grab snatched Potemkin up as the giant slid forward, just a fraction of a second before Potemkin would have grasped him. Two slams of his arm’s built-in trombone slide dealt some damage before the last pound belted his opponent out. “Hit me…two times!” From there, he connected the two hits of his Glissando double trombone slide to start a combo. His tambourine halves clamped down on Potemkin like a huge pincer with Beat Extend, then shook the jangles to inflict Sound Stun. “Shake shake, clarinet! Shuffle, black…and blue! Shake shake, swing it!” He jumped, struck twice, landed, struck twice, then jumped and struck twice again in a clarinet-heavy assault. Then he touched down with a couple rings from his musical triangle, hit with the low kick pedal of Hot Socks, and used his music-stand side kick to set up a heavy Take the A Train into Super Sonic Jazz. “Lay back, slow train rollin’...Horn Crush!” Bababa-BAM

As Potemkin flew away, Band deployed his bagpipes and whipped up a jaunty tune to give himself armor on his normals. Then he pushed forward with a heavy Brass Knuckle, canceling with Emergency Brake, and ate Potemkin’s wakeup command grab. Helpless panic paralyzed the detective as he found himself sailing skyward once more, pinned on the shoulders of the giant. “Potemkin…BUSTER!”

ROUND TWO: POTEMKIN WINS!

A few seconds passed before Band stirred, half-conscious and aching all over. He dazedly opened his eyes to see Potemkin standing over him, an enormous mitt extended. No way…was it already over?”

“A valiant effort,” the Indian told him.

The detective took a deep, weary breath. Three Potemkin Busters and he was in Losers, eh? Sometimes, he guessed, them’s the breaks. He deployed a large mechanical arm so that Potemkin could lift him up by its Lokjaw fist. “Ya got me good,” he admitted, a wry smile on his face. All around, the spectators clapped, some cheering on his foe’s good sportsmanship. Part of him was angry and embarrassed, and some of the onlookers did seem rather amused by the way things went down, but Band managed to keep his cool. He gave Potemkin a final nod of acknowledgement, then turned to go. Things were only going to get more complicated from here, and he would need every moment of rest he could get if he meant to stand a chance in the shark-infested waters of the Losers’ Bracket.

---

As they arrived at the suspended arena for their first fight, the twins seemed full of confidence, despite everything going against them. They were brand new to Esaka, total unknowns, substitutes for a vanished legend, and oddballs given the fact that they’d be competing as a single, two-in-one fighter. Nevertheless they held their heads high, no matter how many dubious or outright disdainful looks they got. Bartholomew and Marguerite Bogard were here not just to do their part for their team, nor just to fight for the Lost Numbers, but to play their part in saving the world, no matter how small their part might be. That was a mission that demanded only one kind of outcome, and the young gamblers were here to win big.

Out of the three opponents that Team Seekers of Fight were up against, the twins were selected to go up against the youngest, Asuka Kazama, who rolled up on a bicycle and skidded to a stop. At eighteen she still had a few years on them, but it was much less of a gap than them and, say, Jun or Lei, and realistically they expected all their opponents to be older than them anyway. They did not expect Asuka to have so many supporters, apparently the most out of anyone on her team. Plenty of spectators, yokai or otherwise, were cheering the Japanese girl on as she played to the crowd. Bart and Marg put their heads together.

“Guess she’s some kind of big shot?” Bart whispered.

“Guess so. No weapons I can see, so she’s either powers or martial arts,” Marg whispered back.

Her brother nodded energetically. “Yeah. Let’s keep our cards close ‘til we figure out her deal.”

His sister grinned. “Got it. First round’s just data, right?”

“Wait, isn’t there just one round per matchup in this tournament?”

“There is!?”

“You kids done whispering?” Asuka waved from across the arena. Once the had the duo’s attention, she cracked a grin, then cracked her knuckles. “Two on one, huh? Alright, time to teach you a thing or two! Startin’ with lesson one: numbers aren’t everything!”

Returning her smile, Bart used his thumb to flick a poker chip like a coin. “In the name of Preservation…”

Marg stepped forward, snatched the chip out of the air in her fist, and splayed her fingers to reveal a chip between each gloved finger. “We’re going all in!”

GET READY…GO! As soon as the Heavenly Principles started the match, their golden light filling the arena, the twins felt something change. They shared a split-second look of alarm. Was this the Principles’ ‘balancing’?

Asuka started things off with a forward-moving hop kick. Having backed up the moment they could, the kids fell beyond its reach. They wasted no time and called on their power, using their fancy watches as focal points for cosmic amber energy. Seeing her foes up to something, Asuka pushed forward with a backfist, and despite the kids’ use of Cornerstone Deluxe, it connected. When Bart’s head snapped backward from the strike, so did Marg’s, and the side kick that followed the next moment threw both backward. They hit the floor with a gasp, bewildered. Did their trademark shield just not work?

Before they could figure things out, Asuka descended upon them. She delivered a stomp to spur them into action, and when the twins rolled backward to their feet Asuka pushed in with a knee into elbow strike into strong turn kick. This time Bart and Marg blocked, and as they did their amber shield shimmered around them. When Asuka’s blows slammed into their guard, three glittery golden shrapnel gems broke off and fell to the ground nearby. “There it is,” the two murmured in tandem, thinking quickly. So their Fortified Wager barrier would only show up when defending–got it. It wouldn’t have been very fair, they supposed, if the twins could just attack willy-nilly while protected.

Unfortunately, their focus on figuring out how the Heavenly Principles nerfed them meant they missed their punish opportunity, so Asuka attacked again. She stepped forward, pulled back for a half step, then stepped forward again to test their reactions before ducking down to launch a low hand swipe. It hit the kids’ unprotected ankles despite their guard, prompting them to backpedal, only for Asuka to advance and strike them again with a low spinning hook kick. Neither led into a combo, but they kept the Bogards on edge so they couldn’t get comfortable.

Asuka, anticipating some sort of reversal attempt, twisted around with a high elbow thrust wreathed in some sort of pink flash. Luckily the twins blocked it, and two more shrapnel gems clonked to the floor. Bart and Marg rolled to the side, collecting them as they did, then rose quickly to block Asuka’s double jumping snap kick. That seemed to shatter the last of the pair’s Fortified Wager as two more gems broke off, but it looked like a perfect chance to fire off a spread blast of ambergold shardshots. “Crack-!”

“Hi-yah!”

Instead, Asuka’s high turn kick slammed into Marg’s chin, and the kids slumped to their knees where they stood. The karateka’s combo continued with a low revolving backfist, left axe kick, left straight punch, and bombastic backflip kick that sent the Bogards spiraling backward. When they hit the ground, Asuka followed up with another left axe kick, and as the kids finally sprawled out on the floor she began to spin. Not knowing what she was doing, Bart and Marg rolled sideways, which in a stroke of luck turned out to be the correct move as Asuka’s unblockable spinning crescent kick sailed overhead.

Their foe chased them away with another kick, then ran to close the distance, but as they rose to a crouch the Bogards infused the latent power of their ambergold into the ground. “Power Wave!” they chorused, and two shardshots burst up from the ground in a projectile uppercut that cut Asuka’s advance short and popped her into the air with a surprised cry. Rather than try to combo off the launcher, though, the twins ran away, scooping up golden gems until Asuka recovered and wavedashed toward them. Five out of seven wasn’t enough for anything special, but now that they had some play money the kids could make something happen.

They re-upped their Fortified Wager shield just in time for Asuka to crash into it with a strong, upward fist-in-palm strike. It sent one gem skittering, and she continued her momentum to whirl around with a turn kick. This time, though, Bart and Marg sidestepped the strong but straight kick, then belted out their five shardshots in a shotgun blast straight to Asuka’s ribs. “Crack Shoot!” As Asuka tumbled, they collected their one gem, then used the ambergold to send a weak Power Wave across the floor like a fissure.

Asuka hunkered down to block the projectile low. With their opponent’s back now close to the stage’s perimeter, the twins moved in. At the last possible second, however, they stopped short and blocked in Asuka’s face. Her while-standing high kick blasted of two gems of ambergold instead of either twin’s teeth. They anticipated more attacks and continued to block, but Asuka switched things up with a grab. Her hands slipped effortlessly through the Bogards’ shield and she tossed them over her shoulder with a deft throw.

Their backs hit the ground uncomfortably close to the edge. When they tried to roll to the side, Asuka smacked them with a sweep and forced them to rise. From there, she spun into a turn kick with frightening speed, meant to push the twins off the stage even if they managed to block. Instead, Bart and Marg split to either side and lashed out with a desperate hook as the kick passed between them. Their knuckles sandwiched Asuka’s head, stunning her long enough for a double straight punch and double door-buster kick.

Their reprisal didn’t do amazing damage, but it did push Asuka back, who staggered as she struggled to stay upright. As her foes used Cornerstone Deluxe again, she shook her head in derision. “What was that?” She tightened her fists and put them up. “Come on!”

She moved in before Bart and Marg could reposition and launched a flurry of strikes in an all-out slugfest. The twins weathered it as best they could, trying to circle around so that they could backstep out of throw range without falling off the stage, but Asuka kept them pinned. Throughout the assault, though, the Bogards continued to gather up gems. When Asuka grabbed them again and threw them to the ground, they snatched the last two they needed. They scooted out of stomp range and snapped their fingers, calling out “Watch your head!”

“Hm?” Asuka’s eyes widened. Was that some kind of super? When she looked up, some kind of portal had opened overhead, a horizontal gateway to a dimension of glittering wealth. Golden poker chips the size of manhole covers rained down, pounding the karateka’s guard. She gritted her teeth and bore Shot Loaded Right’s chip damage as the twins scurried back to center stage. A moment later and the deluge ended, the hole in reality closed up as if it never existed, and all the chips had vanished with it. She scoffed. “That’s all you got? Too feeble to play fair, huh!”

The twins were breathing heavily. For all her peppiness, Asuka was quite the brute, and their match turned out to be a real trial by fire. Falcon and Amaterasu were still fighting their own opponents nearby, but they couldn’t be distracted right now. They were getting the distinct impression that if Asuka couldn’t win by ring out, she’d win the old-fashioned way: by beating them to a pulp.

Winterhold College - Sinners’ Inn

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (55/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1179

After introducing herself to the animal spirits who gathered around her at the bar, Sandalphon received a barrage of names in return: Pebble the frog, Mira the rabbit, Crouton the cat, and Dagoberg the crow. The little mice spirits which bounced around energetically did not seem too talkative, and the scruffier of the two cats hung back to mind his own business, though Pebble informed Sandalphon that his name was Grizz. Once they learned that the archangel was just passing through and bid her welcome, most of the ghosts left her in peace to return to their birthday party. Two remained at the bar with her, though: Wailer, a rather morose-looking coyote, and Rusty the mole, who seemed more interested in fiddling with some scrap metal than in celebrating.

Sandalphon settled into her seat, allowing the ethereal yet quietly cheerful music of the Sinners’ Inn’s jukebox to soak through her, and a few seconds later Marla the bird bartender slid the archangel her drink of choice: an elderflower gin and tonic, clear and fizzy, with the shaft of a feather piercing bent slivers of lime. She gently wound her fingers around the glass’s stem and lifted it to her lips. Herbaceous, astringent, mellow…though not sweet, it was pleasant and soothing in its own right. With everything she’d been through lately, of which her stressful visit to the Grand Archives had only been the latest chapter, a little refreshment really helped. Even if it would do little about what ailed her.

Her poor condition wasn’t exactly subtle. With half her face frozen by the Petrification Disease, she must have looked terrible, and her recent dunk in candle wax certainly hadn’t done her any favors. After a few quiet moments, Wailer cleared his throat. “You don’t look so good. Doin’ ok?”

Sandalphon stared at the bartop, her expression downcast and her pupil shaped like a stress mark. When her eyes turned toward Marla, the bird gave her an encouraging smile (or what passed for one for someone with a beak, anyway) and the archangel let out a small sigh. These spirits seemed innocent enough, and she didn’t need to put on a brave face for their sakes. They were already dead, after all, which afforded them some potentially valuable perspective. “Well…when I said that I wasn’t dead yet, I wasn’t just being gloomy.” Her pupil changed into a lowercase letter U. “I’m dying. I don’t know exactly when, but I have less than a week to live. Only a few days.”

Wailer grunted, but the spirits said nothing for a few seconds, allowing her reveal the gravitas it deserved. In the background, the chatter and laughter of the celebrating ghosts sounded muffled and distant. A scratching noise brought Sandalphon’s attention to the stool beside her, where Lucy was trying to climb up, her movements in her enlarged body still clumsy. Sandalphon hesitated to help, knowing that the act would hurt, and to her relief Rusty leaned over to help pull Lucy up. Once the cat could reach the bartop, Marla set out a saucer of milk for her to lap. After another moment, Marla shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Sandalphon’s unblinking gaze turned toward the middle distance. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve made all the preparations I can. My soul will be entrusted to my comrades. I’m hopeful for a miracle. And yet…” The archangel’s eye slid shut, a rarity for her, and tears welled up beneath the lid. “I…I’m not ready. There are so many people I would have liked to see again. To say goodbye to. And the man with whom I’ve grown close…it would have meant a great deal for him to be there, at the end, but lately he…has not been returning my calls.”

She understood, to an extent. Grief was a terrible burden to bear, and she did not want to force it upon Zenkichi or his daughter, especially if they didn’t want it. Everyone’s position was ultimately tenuous, and sometimes, life forced people to make cruel choices. Still, it hurt. It hurt enough that Sandalphon regretted developing a human heart, far more than she ever did due to fear.

Opening her teary eye, Sandalphon took a long sip from her drink. She glanced at Marla, Lucy, Rusty, and Wailer in turn. “In this afterlife of yours…are there any angels?”

Wailer shook his head slowly. “I ain’t ever seen one.”

“Don’t think so,” Rusty muttered. When Sandalphon looked back at the bartender, she shook her beak from side to side.

Breathing in sharply, Sandalphon swallowed. She tightened her grip on her drink slightly, feeling the cool condensation from the glass run along her slender fingers. “That follows. We came from different worlds, after all. Our journeys were bound to…to end differently.”

Silence reigned for a while longer, but the sound of padded footsteps turned Sandalphon’s gaze to that scruffy cat as he approached. Grizz was his name, she recalled. He stopped at one side of the bar, around the corner from Wailer. “In our underworld, there’s a place called the Palace,” he began in a low, scratchy voice. “And in that Palace, there’s a mirror. A mirror that lets you go home, for just a little while. See your people again. They can’t see or hear you, but I think they know you’re there.” Grizz looked at Sandalphon. “Wherever you’re headed, I hope they got something just like that. And if you do end up with us, we oughta go together.”

It was a beautiful hope, Sandalphon thought, albeit one that seemed logically impossible. Little more than wishful thinking. At this point, though, what harm was a little wishful thinking?

“I hope so too.”

Some time passed before Sandalphon finished her drink. She knew that she should be doing her part to help get the Seekers out of this maze, which would be quite the arduous task if this place was as non-euclidean as the disappearance of the Grand Archives suggested, yet she couldn’t force herself to hurry. Out there were untold horrors and dangers, a whole world’s worth of suffering. In here she had friendly spirits for company, a tasty beverage, and some much-needed respite. Hanging out with ghosts felt a little surreal, but appropriate, and the Sinners’ Inn was nothing if not comfortable. In a sense, Sandalphon felt as if she were owed some real peace and quiet, not the tense and fragile silence of the ice caves last night, in which the whole team could be attacked (or undermined, as it turned out) at a moment’s notice. Was she being a little selfish? Most likely. But since she was going to die soon, a little selfishness felt deserved, for once.

In the end, though, the archangel couldn’t shirk her duty. “I should go,” she admitted, rising gingerly from her stool.

“Must you?” Marla asked.

“My allies need me. I have much that I must do before I can truly rest,” Sandalphon replied softly.

The animal spirits gathered to say goodbye and wish her well, and after another moment Sandalphon turned to go.

[Double]

Word Count: 1,143
Level 11 Roxas: 65/110
Exp Gained: +2
NEW EXP Balance--- 67/110

College of Winterhold - The Kitchen

After exchanging greetings with Geralt, the Witcher confirmed that he had not encountered any of the other Seekers yet aside from Roxas. Roxas then explained how he met Frederick in the other room and agreed to help him stop his paintings from plotting something bad, and that apparently the rooms change every time one of the doors close and then open.

”Have you looked around here that much yet?” Roxas, and Geralt replied simply by shaking his head. Though he did point to something that Roxas hadn’t seen yet. Two dumbwaiter hatches that were locked tight. Well that was no problem for the Nobody. He summoned a Keyblade and tapped against the hatch door which caused it to unlock itself with a click. After that, Roxas opened it up and carefully looked in. It was like any other dumbwaiter system, and that meant there was more to the Kitchen on the lower level that neither of the two Seekers had seen yet.

”You cover the high ground up here while I go down low?” Roxas asked with a glance back at Geralt who nodded in agreement. The plan was set then. Geralt would continue investigating this section of the Kitchen while Roxas would venture down lower via the dumbwaiter. The Nobody recalled Scamp to his Poke Ball and clipped back to his belt so he’d have plenty of room to squeeze into the dumbwaiter without having to squeeze the Boltund inside with him. Then he used the pulley system and lowered himself down.

When he crawled out of the dumbwaiter, Roxas found himself in a secret room filled with a number of cylindrical cages filled with the bodies of human-like creatures that Roxas couldn’t identify. The only things that made them not human were their grey skin and pointed ears for the most part. And on a far table he saw what looked like an immaculate cookware set. High quality most likely, though Roxas wasn’t knowledgeable enough in cooking to appreciate this fact. Though it did look like it could cook some pretty good meals. But it was also cumbersome so he wasn’t particularly interested in taking it or anything.

There was, however, one implement that looked distinguished from the rest. It was a Butcher’s Cleaver, a wide rectangular chopping knife that looked like it could remove chunks of flesh or metal alike. Could be useful to someone as a tool or weapon. So Roxas tentatively picked the Cleaver up and stored it in the largest space in his bag.

Item Obtained

Butchers Cleaver
A weapon that deals high slash damage and always lops off a bit of meat from whatever it hits, or scrap metal if it strikes against armor or robots.

Of course, now that Roxas thought about it, with all the bodies in the cages and this cooking set at the center of it all. It did give him uncomfortable thoughts about where the College was getting its food from. He made a mental note to him to not eat any meat from this place as he hurriedly made his way back into the dumbwaiter, eager to get out of this creepy room. He climbed and used the pulley to work his way back up to the main level.

By the time he climbed out of the dumbwaiter, Roxas was greeted with the sight of Geralt with his arm elbow-deep in the mouth of a dead pig. ”W-What?” Roxas said, clearly surprised and taken aback by the brutal-looking sight. He knew Geralt was investigating the main level but he didn’t expect the Witcher to be quite this… thorough about it.

“There’s something… lodged in the back of the pig’s throat.” Geralt grunted, sparing the Roxas details as he finally dislodged his hand from the pig’s body. In it he grasped a medallion, meaning that he was right about there being something lodged in the pig’s mouth that he had been digging out.

”Eugh, right…” Roxas said as he tentatively stepped closer, ”So… what is it?”

Geralt merely shrugged, “No idea.” The Witcher admitted, “It’s magical, I can guess that much. But I can’t be sure of the specifics.”

”Then I guess we’ll need to let Sectonia try to identify it for us.” Roxas said, then after a moment of thought he took the medallion from Geralt. He looked around but couldn’t see any sinks, so he did the next thing he could and used one of the spare burlap sacks to wipe the medallion more or less clean, ”There, at least it’s clean… mostly. And… maybe let’s not tell Sectonia where we found it when we show it to her?” The Nobody knew Sectonia could be rather particular about appearances and gross-out factor, so showing her a medallion stained with pig blood probably wouldn’t go over well, hence his efforts to clean it up.

Item Obtained

Ravenous Medallion
A charmed piece of jewelry that makes every door its holder opens lead to The Dining Room.

Geralt shrugged but ultimately nodded in agreement. After that, both Seekers decided that they’d probably found everything that was worth finding in this room and so it was probably time to go to another one. They settled on opening the door directly across the room from the one that Roxas entered through. But before they did, Roxas jogged back to the door he entered and snatched up the doorstop Frederick gave him. He definitely didn’t want to leave that behind. With the items in hand, the two Seekers approached the double doors across the way and opened them both up.

The Dining Room

In front of Roxas lay a long, high hall that featured six tables, each able to seat four people and set for a grand feast. A counter laden with more food, buffet-style, ran along the center of the room atop a red carpet. Overhead, a perpendicular walkway connected two sets of double doors, bringing the number of entrances to the room to four total. Finally, four chandeliers hung overhead, providing ample light.

A truly dreadful, downright appalling smell greeted Roxas the moment he entered, however. The food set out for a banquet was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, but after his exploration of the Kitchen he could begin to guess. Platters of grisly looking fare, gray pies and gray puddings and large cuts of gray meat, gave off a profound sickly-sweet odor. Presiding over this grotesque buffet was the Feastmaster, a bloated being in faded, one-fine clothes, with oily, stringy hair and a face without eyes.

Nevertheless he seemed to notice Roxas and Geralt, and turned toward them to beckon them closer as he called out in an uproarious voice. "We feast the coronation of the new king! We have even prepared a new delicacy for the occasion, the flesh of an exotic and recently discovered creature. None shall refuse this banquet. None!"

[Goggy]

Winterhold College - Torment Nexus

Ace - Level: 9 - Total EXP: 516/90
Level 7 Heismay (61/70) Sectonia & Mokou
Word Count: 2470 (+3)

As terrible as the monster was, Heismay did not allow fear to overwhelm him at the sight of the Tormentor or the merciless slaughter of its summoner. The adrenaline in his veins pushed him to act. Against a large and hopefully clumsy target like this, he could be as evasive, painful, and maddening as a horsefly. “Have at you!” Seeing that the Tormentor had another mouth on its back, he leaped at its side as the Assassin to execute a midair Lurking Nightblade. To his surprise his blade cleaved more readily through the Tormentor’s flesh than it had the Coven’s, so he followed up with a switch to the Gunner to nail it with a Poison Shot as he fell. “Tis no match for us!” he called, hoping to inspire the others.

It seemed to work, as though their failure to actually put a stop to the Coven's ritual had disheartened Ace he gave a sharp nod at Heismay's words and swiftly switched gears. He unloaded the last couple of water rounds, popped a new clip into the bowgun, and focused on the new enemy in front of them.

Sectonia, having a new target, cast Slow on the Tormentor to make it easier to hit and to dodge its attacks. She didn’t fear this thing, she wanted it dead. Anger held her fast, and that anger fueled her curse as she struck her staff out and struck the nearby Cadet, getting injured herself from the haphazard attack that seemed to be more wildly flailing her staff. Sectonia barely registered this though as she went to cast her rain of holy swords to rain down on the creature.

The victim of her friendly fire definitely did register it though, and the shots he was firing into the Tormentor abruptly stopped as the hunter was shoved away from her, dangerously close to one of the small pools of lava. Ace braced himself to keep from losing his footing, looking over at the alien queen with confusion. He saw her smack herself too before resuming her casting stance, which didn't clear anything up. "Sectonia?"

But she appeared to be stricken by some sort of battle fervor. Wary of anything worse being thrown his way the Cadet moved to reposition, weaving through burning puddles and keeping an eye on the Tormentor as he did. While everyone else staved it off, Ace shifted the bowgun into its special mode. Being intimately familiar with weapons from his home world he knew just what functions the crab buster had, this gun fitted with a wyvernsnipe capability. It would take more than a few seconds to set it, line up the shot, and fire, but if he managed it then the special ammunition would rip through the monster and explode.

Once it arrived the Tormentor had first gone after the easiest targets, the Antlers. Their lack of awareness and mobility allowed the giant demon to smash them like bugs with its prodigious weight. Of course, Sectonia’s Slow combined with its sheer size made it an easy target for Ace’s gunfire, and each shot dealt visible damage to its lumpy brownish hide. Still, it labored at its task until Sectonia’s summoned swords pierced it from above, and the Radiance’s divine light gave them even more bite than usual. Now looking like a cleric’s pincushion, the Tormentor bayed, its main mouth stretching to cover its entire front, as fanged and round as a leech’s sucker.

While the beast gave vent to its rancor, Heismay took advantage of the distraction. He leaped up, sprang off the wall for even more height, and landed atop the Tormentor just below one of its huge, ink-black horns. Holding his blade in his mouth, he grabbed onto the hilts of Sectonia’s holy swords and used them as handholds to climb higher. After a moment he could stand atop the Tormentor’s head, carefully balanced against its movements, and take his longsaber in hand to pierce the monster’s left eye. He dragged it along while running to deal extra damage, much to the ire of the Tormentor, then leapt off and transformed midair to fully destroy the eye with the Assassin’s Lurking Nightblade.

In response, the Tormentor began to inhale. The wind quickly picked up in a giant cone in front of it, its pull on the Seekers stronger and stronger as the demon tried to suck them into its gullet. Heismay, being much too close for comfort, mustered all his strength for a hard right bullet jump. He avoided being devoured by inches and bounced off the Tormentor’s cheek, his sword knocked from his grasp.

As the Tormentor continued to attempt to inhale the various Seekers, a massive wave of fiery feathers flew in from the side, slamming into the beast's side. The eternal phoenix Mokou, after having spent some time on the sidelines hunting down and devouring the various frogs that had perished in the battle, finally turned her focus on the foe at hand, “Yo. Apologies, got a bit distracted” Mokou called out, adjusting the hat perched on her head, appreciating the increased damage granted by its magical properties.

"Better late than never," Ace called back to her, though his voice was strained from stress. The Tormentor's strong pull had interrupted his snipe preparation and had threatened to take the hunter off his feet, but his trusty slinger saved him from becoming a meal himself by gripping a pillar next to him and holding fast, anchoring the Cadet against the suction.

Sectonia didn’t want to know, not be involved with getting anywhere close to this thing. But getting away from a suction move wasn’t difficult for her as she just blinked out of the range of said suction move. Once she was out of the way herself, a funny idea came to her as she waved her arms to summon a crystal platform in the path of Feast right near the creature’s mouth in an attempt to use it as a ‘plug’ to the attack.

The Tormentor’s mouth stretched and it swallowed the giant crystal whole, leaving no trace of it behind. Since the act left the monster visually unchanged, it seemed more as if the would-be plug had been erased rather than eaten, which would have spelled out a terrible end for anyone unlucky (or slow) enough to not get out of the way. Fortunately, none of the Seekers fell prey to the Tormentor’s Feast, which left it with nothing to do but go after them again. It looked for Heismay, failed to find him, then floated toward Sectonia, happy to slam into her with its bulbous form or wallop her with its many arms. Once up close and personal with the thing, the swarm queen could see that her team’s attacks were definitely working. Bulletholes and stab wounds speckled its body, while burns and poison chewed away at its vitality. The Seekers must be in the home stretch. Her offensive focus meant that she ate a few hefty hits, but between her shields and natural vitality they weren’t anything Sectonia couldn’t handle.

As soon as a stop was put to the Tormentor's inhalation, Ace went back on the offensive. Releasing the slinger's hook he traded out the normal shots for piercing ones, sticking with consistent firing to keep whittling the monster down. As one floating mass it didn't seem as though it had any particular weak spots, as after Heismay destroyed one of its many eyes it had hardly flinched and just grew angrier. Even so, the fact that its hide was much softer than its summoner's and the Seekers could see ichor ooze out of the wounds they'd inflicted just reassured the Cadet that the Tormentor was just as mortal as anything else.

The distance between hunter and target was optimal now that it had flown towards Sectonia, and each shot drilled more holes into its body, deeper and deeper and clustered close together to make smaller wounds into larger, more threatening ones.

Heismay, meanwhile, had run into a dilemma. When his sword got knocked from his hand, it wound up stuck in one of the many small pools of molten lava that dotted the nexus. He hurried to recover it, but by the time he pulled it free the sheer heat had warped the metal, and the convection nearly burned his hands. “Damn it,” he hissed as he looked up at the intense airborne battle above. With a grumble, he pulled out the Ritualist Scythe that he’d obtained in the Forgotten Commune. “How hard could it be,” he muttered to himself as he tried to get a feel for the weight. “Tis a farming instrument, and my forebears are farmers.”

Seeing Mokou fly by, he waved up at her. “Phoenix! May I have a boost?”

Mokou comes to a quick stop, glancing down at Heismay before giving a small nod. She then sharply dropped to his level, holding out a hand, “C’mon.” The eugief hopped up without delay and grabbed her hand, still fairly lightweight despite his armor. Taking a moment to ensure her grip was secure, Mokou immediately flew back up above the fight, continuing to rain down a hail of flaming projectiles on the Tormentor while she positioned herself directly above it, “Just need to be above? Or do you want to get close?” the phoenix asked as she flew, glancing back at Heismay.

“Just throw me, I can do the rest!” Heismay assured her, his other hand’s grip tightened on the scythe’s handle.

“That’s the right answer” was all the warning Heismay got before Mokou suddenly began to spin several times, the momentum swinging Heismay around her before she used it to launch the Eugief at the Tormentor, a few feathers flying ahead at the same time to soften it up before Heismay’s attack.

“Waaagh!” The speed with which Mokou built up centripetal force and launched him surprised even Heismay, but he was ready for action. Briefly spreading his wings allowed him to glide the full distance, then descend on the Tormentor’s unprotected backside with a full-force swing of his scythe like a pickaxe. Ignorant of the scythe’s inherent damage boost against those suffering from status afflictions, Heismay was shocked to see his slash not only cut through the beast’s back like butter, but sliced it open like a baked potato to leave a large wound directly in front of Mokou, ripe for the exploitation.

Heismay’s opening was something Mokou was more than willing to take advantage of. Lifting her hand above her head, the phoenix willed forth several dozen balls of flame in the air around her. Then, with a smooth motion of her hand, she sent each flying downwards, each slamming and then subsequently exploding violently on the Tormentor’s new wound.

Sectonia took the fact that this thing was wounded to try to finish it off in one decisive stroke. Summoning her axe, she waved it as if she was swinging a scythe as a spectre of death appeared behind her and moved to attack the Tormentor, using the ambient death in the air and its own closeness to death to amplify its single strike. But to make sure this attack worked, Sectonia also used her charged holy dragon beam at the Tormenter, with a few extra projectiles coming from her thanks to another upgrade of hers proccing although it only added a couple small ticks of extra damage. But damage was damage, and as the closer to death the Tormentor got, the stronger Reaper’s Scythe got and using all the damage taken by the Tormentor, it finished the Tormentor off using the wound that had been opened up.

With a single decisive strike by what looked to be a ghostly visage of the grim reaper itself, the Tormentor was bisected along the wound that had been initially opened and inflamed by her allies as the Tormentor’s body started to necrotize and instantly begin rotting as if it had been long dead before finally poofing into a spirit of itself.

”Someone else grab that horrid thing.” Sectonia said, an audible ‘ick’ being heard from her as she looked at the remains of the creature. And as everyone grouped to take a look at the fallen spirit, Sectonia gave everyone a little bit of healing with Death Pulse. While not the healing proper healers like Blazermate or Sandalphon could do, it was something to give a bit of reprieve.

Sectonia’s enormous beam made for a stunning display of power, and the reaper’s finishing stroke sealed the deal in spectacular fashion. For all the pomp and circumstance of its summoning, the Tormentor had been short-lived, perhaps thanks to the Seekers’ efforts to deal with the candles beforehand. Whatever the case, Heismay was glad it was over. “A strong finish. Well done, all.” With a sigh of relief, he stored the unexpectedly potent scythe and padded over to collect his warped longsaber.

Mokou herself slowly floats back down to the ground, walking over to the spirit with a bored expression, “Well, as much as I’ve seemed to develop a taste for corpses thanks to a curse, I’m not sure if I’m all too willing to put this thing in me” the phoenix commented aloud, running a hand through her front bangs.

Having fought together for a while now, Ace had a good idea of what the victory regroup would be like, and so he intentionally held back to avoid the last of Queen Sectonia's magics. Ultimately he just put his weapon away far slower than normal before eventually trotting over to the other three as they stood around the pile of ashes.

"Whew. It's just been one thing after another, huh?" he said, shooting a small grin at Heismay. Of course then he was caught off guard by Mokou's comment, turning to blink at her. "A taste for...?"

He paused, ducked his head, and held his hands up. "Nevermind, I don't wanna know! It's probably some curse, right? Seems like this place is full of 'em."

And that it would be impossible to really avoid them, especially with the random room traversal and their bad luck with it so far. Regardless, fusion was not the only option for spirits so none of them needed to worry about potentially growing a few pairs of extra eyes and limbs (not to mention growing rotund). And if none of the victors were keen on making this monster into a summoned companion, well, the Cadet had no qualms about just crushing it posthaste.

Staring at the Tormentor spirit, Heismay blinked. “Wait…I bound that awful, tentacled horror from the obsidian church last night. And…completely forgot to use it today.” The eugief put a palm to his rumpled brow and groaned, shaking his head.

[DracoLunaris]

Words: 1,814 (+3)
Edward Portsmith: Level 9 (22 cells) (2 level ups stored) ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// (40/90)
Location Frozen highlands - The Midnight Walk

The Arcaneum

It seemed to be Edward's lucky day, for his next room turned out to be a drum-shaped library of rather humble design, its stone brick arches converging into a support ring above the room's center. Horn candelabras and simple iron candlesticks provided ample illumination for shelves of dusty tomes and crinkly scrolls, over a hundred in total, all under the careful supervision of the elderly Orsimer librarian Urag gro-Shub.

At Edward's entrance the old orc looked up, held a finger to his lips, and looked back down at the register of books.

Edward’s mouth hung open for a moment, caught just before he had been about to call out, before he closed it. Whether it be for library etiquette or because talking was dangerous (you never knew what might set off a poorly scribed tome of magic), he gained nothing from breaking the implicit rule (no matter how absurd the former reasoning would be given their shared circumstances) and so stuck too it despite his urge to ask questions.

Thus, leaving a set of golems to hold the door, and waving at the Somnadrix to stay back, he approached the man with casual pace before stopping a polite distance away and raising a hand in greeting, and an eyebrow in a questioning manner.

With a grunt, Urag turned a dry eye Edward's way. "Read whatever you like. But nothing leaves this room. I will be watching," he said ominously.

”I see” Edward replied, carefully controlling his expression to not betray that that might be a problem. Still, no need to make it one until he knew that the note he’d read about the other two pieces of the drawing room puzzle being here.

”Having trouble with thieves?” he asked, casually, as he skimmed the contents of the shelves to get a sense of what sort of literature the library held.

"Like you wouldn't believe," the librarian practically growled.

Each section of the library catered to a different genre. The most populous were for historical and fictional works, as well as a number of cookbooks, bestiaries, and so forth, but there was also a 'Restricted' section, evidently for books with some functional use. This contained spell scrolls, religious texts, and tomes that could be used as weapons or casting catalysts. It was quite the treasure trove whether one happened to be a scholar or a looter, but fulfilling one set of goals would seemingly be much easier than the other.

Edward was, of course, both, but he did like to think he was more the former than the latter, as much as necessity might threaten to make him a liar. At the very least, he did not intend to roll a cannon up to the door as an opening as his opening move when it came to maneuvering his way into the restricted section.

”I don’t suppose this might be one of yours that has found its way out of your possession then? I found it in one of the other rooms of this shifting labyrinth, you see, in a place that it did not seem to belong” he asked, as he retrieved the Condragon Tome and showed it to the book keeper.

A spark of recognition appeared in Urag's eyes. "Yes...one of mine. That scoundrel was damnably clever." He waved his hand, and the book in Edward's hand vanished. A blink of light in the restricted section gave away where it ended up: amongst a couple rather similarly designed tomes, bearing different emblems and colors.

Edward’s eyes widened just a little in surprise at this magic, before he mused to himself that the thief must have indeed been quite clever to steal something from a man who could teleport his inventory around. Clever as well to not pick a fight with a man who could cast such advanced magic as well. Time would tell if he’d have the wisdom to not do that himself.

“There’ll be another attempt, given that they didn’t get everything from you that they wanted, after all” He said, digging up the note regarding the rest of the pieces of the puzzle being located in Arcaneum (which he deduced that this was).

“Might I ask how they managed it the first time? Swapped it out while you weren't looking?” he speculated, given that the orcish scholar seemed to be the type who’d get distracted easily enough by his own collection.

A look of hostile skepticism crossed Urag's face instantly. "You are not privy to such information," he brushed Edward off brusquely. "I am always looking," he then emphasized. "I never sleep. I never lose focus. In fact, I am rooted to this very spot." The librarian seemed proud of what one might consider a hellish existence, if his words were true.

Edward resisted the little temptation to lean over to check if his feet are literally rooted to the spot. It would make him a rather easy target if so, assuming whatever mage had bound the orc to this place hadn’t accounted for that (and they probably had). Fortunately, though it did block the angle he had been attempting to go with when it came to bartering for what he wanted (namely giving the man more eyes to watch with), it did offer up another approach in the process

“That last does seem a slight inconvenience. Might I be able to interest you in a way around that little restriction in your blessing, so you aren't restricted to relying on the luck and kindness of strangers to retrieve your stolen property in future?” he offered, while gesturing a hand back towards the golems holding open the door to the orc’s domain as an example of what he was offering.

Now came the tricky sell, namely asking “All I ask in return would be to be allowed to borrow the two other tomes your thief sought long enough to open a path that might lead out of this maze. I can, naturally, provide you with suitable hostages if you do not trust my word after receiving my half of the bargain, and with the magic I will provide you may watch every step of the process to ensure I stay on track”

"The books do not leave the Arcaneum. No exceptions," Urag snapped. "If you want to leave this place, the front door is in the Dice Room."

Edward’s mental gears immediately began to lunge over onto this different track, only for him to grab a hold of the transition and ask “and if we wished to instead continue to travel the Midnight Walk and reach higher up the mountain? Would this entrance do so or take us back to the artifact that teleported us all inside?”

"You should be able to proceed up the mountain," Urag told him.

“Marvelous” Edward replied, rubbing his hands together, before asking “I don’t suppose there’s anything you could tell me about this ‘dice room’? Any complications it might involve?"

Edward suppressed a sigh, before backing off the topic with a “Very well" He had already gotten quite valuable information after all. That said, the unsolved puzzle in the drawing room did nag at him, and so he did have to ask “But before I go I don’t suppose I could take a read of the other tomes in the Condragon set? Specifically with regards to ones about knights and pegasi? It would be nice to see if I can copy the magic, even if that need is far less pressing now thanks to your help"

"Copy?" Urag raised an eyebrow, but after another moment he relented. "Well, as long as the originals stay here. I have only one Condragon tome...but perhaps you refer to the Wingbane Tome and Unsaddling Tome. They are weapons effective against the enemies you speak of."

“That does sound like exactly what is needed, if you’d let me take a look" Said with a nod.

The librarian nodded in turn.

Taking that as consent enough, Edward approached the restricted section, eyes scanning briefly over the other works before he checked the section containing the two mentioned tomes.

Having gotten an eyeful of those, he slid the books he was actually here for out of the shelves one by one. He then tucked them under his arm and then returned to the center of the room, where he sat himself down on the stairs by one of the small tables and cracked the Unsaddling Tome open to give it a peruse.

Every page, Edward found, was covered in magic circles, diagrams, or rows and rows and rows of arcane or runic symbols, with nothing legible to speak of. This tome wasn't too thick, but it still featured a good hundred pages, minimum. Copying it would be quite the arduous chore.

It was an awful lot of work to do the same job that a spear did, Edward thought. Then again, that kind of work was exactly what automation was for.

As he finished his own reading, he set the books down and informed Urag that “I shall be back in a moment"

True to his word, he did indeed do so, carrying two of the books from the Lecture Hall he had decided were the most worthless. Accompanying him was a squad of copper golems, created sans their spears.

“My scribes" he explained, before setting them up to do the arduous job of copying the spells for him. Naturally he had his own ink and quills aplenty for his own note taking, but that only solved the writing, and not what to write on. For that, Edward made use of a vial of the strong turpentine mixed with water and held in a shard of the astrolabe he’d shattered to make a light paint thinner to be used to clear the existing ink off of the Lecture Hall books’ pages.

Even with their many hands and bodies it would take time for the squad to first clear enough space and then replace it with symbols, naturally, and Edward would have to keep looking over their metaphorical shoulder given these constructs weren't exactly meant for this. However despite all these limitations it would allow copies of the tomes to be made while he continued to explore the maze, so it was well worth the mental load in the Dreadnaught's opinion.

Urag grumbled a bit at the sight of this. Unsurprisingly the book collector wasn’t the most enthused about the destruction of the Lecture Hall books. He didn’t seem to be about to do more than that however. Maybe, Edward theorised, he couldn’t, stuck in one place as he was, and possibly only in command over his own stock. A limitation to take note of, certainly.

Still, that was for later (if it came up at all), as for now the Dreadnaught was done with the room, bidding its curator farewell, before heading across the hall and preparing to open the final door in the lecture theater.

[Double]

Word Count: 1,190
Level 6 Captain Falcon: 97/60
Exp Gained: +2
NEW EXP Balance--- 99/60

Esaka, The Pools

---

_{CAPTAIN FALCON VS. LEI WULONG
PART 2!}

---

”Alright,” Captain said after he was on his feet and staring down the staggering Lei Wulong before leaping into the air, ”let’s turn up the heat!” In midair his body corrected itself and he came crashing back down toward Lei like a fiery missile. ”Falcon KICK!” The kick was blazingly fast, too fast even for Lei’s Drunken Master movements to dodge or redirect effectively, resulting in the bounty hunter finally landing a solid hit. The damage itself wasn’t anything to write home about, but at least Falcon could try to build some momentum now.

In fact as soon as the Captain’s feet hit the ground his legs coiled and he launched himself back up into the air to catch Wulong in a ”Ryuuga!” And while still airborne, the bounty hunter pushed himself higher to grab Lei in the air and push off of him with an explosive kick that was his Falcon Dive technique, ”Yes!” This launched Wulong further back and helped move their fight a little further away from the arena’s edge.

Lei tumbled to the ground and didn’t get up for a moment. The Heavenly Principles prevented a combo like this from being an outright knockout this soon in a fight, so maybe he was trying to play possum again? Well, unfortunately the bounty hunter wasn’t falling for it. As such Lei simply kicked himself back onto his feet, no longer using his Drunken Master stance and instead rotated through his animal forms until settling into his Tiger stance. A form that would prove more aggressive than the Snake as he lunged back toward Falcon. The F-Zero pilot threw another fiery disc Ryuugeki Sen, but Lei quickly slid beneath it as a dodge, immediately following up with a series of three upward kicks thrown at Falcon from his back on the ground that managed to reclaim some of the ground that Falcon’s earlier combo had taken.

It was becoming increasingly clear to Captain Falcon that Lei was definitely trying to go for a ring out victory. Almost every one of their exchanges seemed to end with the police detective managing to slip out of Falcon’s grasp and reposition himself to try and push him just a few inches more toward the edge. A moment ago it was perfectly clear that Falcon was obviously the stronger fighter of the two, able to hit harder and faster. But Wulong, with his experience and oftentimes infuriatingly clever footwork and positioning was proving to be one hell of a slippery opponent to deal with.

“Heh, all that speed and power don’t mean squat if you can’t actually land a hit!” jeered the yokai cosplaying as Jin Kazama

“Yeah, for real, the Super Cop’s been controlling the tempo of this fight since the word ‘go’.”

Captain Falcon tried to shake it off and ignore them. But it was becoming harder to do that when they were correctly managing to point out his shortcomings in this particular matchup. Still, he wasn’t going to let some hecklers break his concentration. So perhaps it was time he flipped the script. If Wulong wanted to go for a ring out, then that’s what Falcon would do too. When the detective came at him with a series of aggressive palm strikes via his Tiger stance, Falcon went on the defensive. He stood his ground and Shielded through most of the strikes. But on the final one he performed an evasive roll to reposition him behind Lei to try and completely reverse the ring out threat onto him.

Wulong spun around and decided it was time to toying around. He tightened into a Rage Art, attempting a powerful roundhouse kick that Falcon managed to backflip away from and then reared his fist back for an attempted punishment, ”Falcon…”

Captain Falcon hoped the raw power of his signature move would be enough to send Wulong hurtling over the edge into the water. But the wind-up of his punch proved to be his undoing as the Super Cop sprung his trap. In a twist of fate, Wulong lunged toward Falcon rather than away from him. Using the wind-up time to spring over Falcon’s shoulders as his attack missed its mark, “Payback time.”

”PUNCH!”

As soon as Wulong was repositioned he struck him in the back with his palm only to spin into an elbow strike on the bounty hunter’s kidney before landing a double kick that staggered Falcon closer to the edge. After the second kick, the detective launched into an aerial spin to put as much force and momentum into a forward backhand strike, “Hiyaaaaah!”

As soon as the Falcon Punch missed, Captain Falcon didn’t quite register what was happening until he was already falling face first toward the water after being knocked out of the arena by Lei Wulong. The man really was a Super Cop. Had he intentionally allowed Falcon to reverse their positions so that he could spring a trap to reverse the reversal? If so, that meant he was quite a martial arts genius. He had to have known from the start that he was no match for Falcon in a head-to-head contest, and that outsmarting him was the only way for him to win. Which in the end, was proven to be true.

---

_{LEI WULONG WINS!}

---

Captain Falcon gasped for air as soon he reached the surface of the water. Then he had no choice but to do the swim of shame back to the edge of the arena so he could climb out of the water. Lei Wulong was standing there, breathing heavily with a cheeky victorious grin on his face. But he was nice enough to offer a hand to pull Falcon up out of the water which the Captain accepted.

“What’d I tell ya?” jeered the Jin cosplayer in the audience, “This team was being carried by Terry. Without him they’re cooked!”

There was a cacophony of similar reactions to Falcon’s loss. All of which was impossible to ignore now since the loss was official.

“Ah, don’t let ‘em get to you.” Wulong said, offering a handshake which Falcon accepted, “You know what they say. Everyone’s a critic, am I right?”

”You can say that again…” Falcon said, then gave the man a thumbs up. ”That was a great fight. Been a while since the last time anyone bested me like that. Guess they aren’t kidding about you being a Super Cop, eh?”

“Heh, maybe not.” Wulong said coyly, “But it looks like your wolf friend managed to beat Jun. So it looks like it’s coming down to the kids, now.”

Indeed it was true. Ametarasu’s match against Jun Kazama looked like it was already over, and like Lei said the sun goddess appeared to be the winner there. That meant the rest of the round was going to have to come down to the twins and Asuka. Falcon had hoped not to put that much pressure on the twins for their first round, but what was done was done. All he could do now was watch and hope for the best.

[Archmage MC]

Winterhold College - Way Fourward

Ace - Level: 9 - Total EXP: 516/90
Level 7 Heismay (64/70) Sectonia & Mokou
Word Count: 2086 (+3)

Predictably, the warped metal of Heismay’s sword meant that he could no longer sheath the weapon properly. He was tempted to ditch it, knowing he’d look ridiculous carrying the thing around. He doubted that this labyrinth had a blacksmith, and he couldn’t depend on finding a new sword before one turned up. As strong as the scythe had been against an unguarded large target, it simply wasn’t a weapon for actual dueling, as its top-heavy design would throw him off balance with every swing.

Holding the longsaber by the blade in a reverse grip, the eugief took one last look at the lava-littered, rot-spattered nexus chamber and ambled wearily toward the lone exit. “I’ve had more than my fill of occult rituals,” he confessed. “Twould be nice to stumble upon a pleasant bathhouse or well-supplied bar, for once.” He pressed his shoulder against the dor and pushed with a grunt, heaving the oaken slab open to reveal another room.

Potion Garden

Beyond the doorway lay a fairly small, naturalistic room. A thick canopy of leaves from different trees formed the domed ceiling overhead. Hanging vines with berries that glowed warmly like Christmas lights provided light, while rows of bulbous, deep red fungi grew from rich, sandy planters along the walls. Shelves offered books on potioncraft as well as collections of botanical and mycological research, while picture frames provided a look at common potion ingredients, carefully dried and preserved. The floor looked like a mix between mossy stone brick and dirt, and while Heismay could see a couple green jellies oozing along the floor, he couldn’t identify any immediate threats. It was a welcome change, and after a moment he let down his guard. “Tis another dead end,” he observed, “But at least our lives are not in peril.”

Ace reached down to pat Heismay on the shoulder, a sense of relief in his voice when he said, "I'll take it."

The garden seemed pretty cozy, with a warmer atmosphere than any of the rooms they'd been in so far. Maybe this one would actually be fun to explore? The Cadet really hoped so. As his eyes trailed over the various plants, reading material, and everything else, eventually he looked back towards the group of Seekers and gave them all a resolute nod. First things first.

"Have either of you found any clues about getting out of this place?" he asked Sectonia and Mokou. "Me and Heismay met up pretty quick, but since we kept getting the short end of the stick I dunno if we're any closer to figuring out how to leave."

He looked at Heismay and shrugged. Lack of progress was hardly their fault after all, since they couldn't control at all where they ended up. After a moment Ace started to rummage around in his bag. "This is about all I found so far..."

Items So Far

Bottle of assorted pills
Scrap metal and springs
Dog treats
Air-purifying sleep mask
Frog toy
Frisbee
Voodoo doll

Ace paused when he produced the last item, surprised that he had it with him. He must have just shoved it in with the rest of the items without thinking about it. Regardless it was part of the pile, and though he couldn't determine if any of them had much use, maybe one of the others had seen something that they could be used with. There was also the Tormentor’s spirit too.

”Ace, did you forget about the ‘hat’ that makes what spirits drop more valuable?” Sectonia said producing the hat of avarice, although she refused to look at it directly she had to concede that its power was incredibly useful. Of course, Ace wanted nothing to do with the grotesque magical artifact, but after a little cajoling from the queen Heismay was convinced to give it a try.

“Ack,” the eugief muttered. He needed one hand to help steady the weighty thing on his head, and that wasn’t all that made it unwieldy. “This accursed hat is hurting me. Quick, hand me the spirit. I want this blasted thing gone.” The moment after he crushed the Tormentor spirit, the Symbol of Avarice clattered to the floor behind him. His displeased look told Sectonia everything she needed to know about the experience. Sectonia knew the hat did this however, and offered a death pulse to at least heal the physical damage. The mental scarring though, remained.

Item Obtained

Fists of Elhazar
A set of gauntlets forged of demonic materials. One of a handful of exceptional warriors from the Kingdom of Men, Elhazar fought his way through many levels of the Crucible bearing these weapons. The wearer’s heavy attacks deal greater stagger, and upon achieving a ten-hit combo subsequent attacks are always critical until the combo is lost.

Heismay examined the gauntlets carefully. “Sinister, certainly, yet they seem to be high quality.” He glanced around at the others. Since he braved the cursed hat in order to obtain these, did that mean that he had first claim…? That did seem to be the case, as though Ace eyed the armor pieces appreciatively he did not make any attempt to separate them from the eugief.

And as for the topic of escaping… ”No idea. We encountered a room that shut off all magic besides its own, which gave me this potent magical item.” Sectonia said, showing the others the Last Prism. ”At first I figured you would need these items to even use magic in this place, but no, it was just that room. And I feel like there was an unintended side effect from this item, but I could not tell when I grabbed it. Has anyone noticed anything?”

“From my point of view, it seems like you’ve been rather… Aggressive. Smashing whatever it is that’s in front of you even after a fight. Perhaps you’ve been cursed with a bit of rage” Mokou comments from her side of the room, picking up a book of potioncraft and flipping through a few pages, “I haven’t figured out a methodology to this place yet myself. But I imagine there *has* to be a path out.”

Adding onto Mokou’s first comment, Ace looked at the queen and said, "yeah, during that battle you went a little kut-kurazy and were bashing everything around you for a sec there, including me!"

For what it was worth the hunter did not seem upset about that fact, he just briefly rubbed at the spot on his side where he'd been struck and gave Sectonia a friendly nod. "It's Ya-cool though, no hard feelings."

”Hmm…. I see… I will need to rectify this. Anger used in such an ugly way will not do.” Sectonia said, closing the matter in a matter of fact voice.

Heismay padded around as began to give the room a more thorough search. It looked like this chamber would be ideal for brewing potions, but that was no craft of his, so he hoped to find anything else that might be of use. “I can only hope that one of the rituals we dispelled would have otherwise impeded our escape.”

Approaching a counter, he found a couple scribbled notes along with a large key. It looked rather like it would fit the keyhole in one of the labyrinth doorways, although none of them had been locked so far. A tag on the key’s loop read ‘Sylvia’. “Hm,” he grunted, then put the key away in order to glance over the notes. Recipes, ratios, ingredient costs…nothing that really concerned him. When he tried a nearby chest, he found it locked, but instead of a conventional lock it featured some kind of liquid receptacle with an eye on it. “Curious…”

With no leads that they could see to chase, the other Seekers followed Heismay's example and fanned out to take advantage of the more relaxed atmosphere and see what they could turn up. Ace had turned his attention to the ingredients growing around the chamber, releasing the humbee to fly up and investigate the higher growing fruit (and nibble of course). The Cadet moved back and forth to match up the plants and mushrooms with their descriptions to see what was edible and what probably wasn't, though he regardless of what they were used for he did take samples of pretty much everything. Examining one of the slimes revealed that while they were content to just crawl along and clean up the walls and floor they did not like people getting too close to them. Thankfully its jump at the Cadet was telegraphed, and the creature itself was not very formidable, though it did yield green chu jelly. As Ace continued harvesting, he turned to look over his shoulder to see what Heismay was curious about.

"Wanna try opening it?" he asked. Since the whole room was potion focused, they could probably make whatever concoction needed from the ingredients growing around the area.

”I will leave you to it. Potion creation is not in my skillset. If you want to know what an ingredient does magically, I can identify that. But you would have as much luck as I with making the correct potion.” Sectonia said, giving a rare instance of stating something she couldn’t do. To be honest, potion craft was pretty rare on Popstar in general and no one in Foralia was good at it. But at the same time, it often seemed to offer less power than simple sorcery.

“You think a certain potion would open it?” That made sense thematically at least, although it struck Heismay as a little kooky. He peered around at all the potion ingredients and instructions cluelessly, not sure where to begin. After a quick look at the eye symbol on the potion lock for confirmation, he made his way around the room again, skimming the various recipes. “Potions…health, mana, stamina…tonics…enhancers…ah, perhaps this is it? I see a recipe for a ‘sight enhancer’ with an eye symbol. But this recipe…it reads ‘three parts A, four parts B, three parts C.’ I haven’t the foggiest what those mean, however.”

At this point Ace had approached to get a better look at the chest and lock, concurring that yes, it probably did need a potion of some kind to open. If he had to guess how the contraption determined what liquid was in the container, it would most likely be some sort of mystical ability embedded into it. Normally that would make the hunter less inclined to mess around with it, but compared to what they'd just been through in the last room, and the one before it, this wasn't that bad at all.

"Huh. Maybe it's as easy as the name of what goes in it?" Ace guessed, holding up one of the plant ingredients to let it dangle by the leaves. "Bog Beet for B?"

Though he went over to one of the mixing stations in the room, he did not throw the beet in yet. He'd hate to end up with a failed combo after all. "I don't mind taking a shot at making it though, I've made tons of potions before," he said, though it would be his first time using anything that had magical properties to make them.

Sectonia grabbed one of the potion lists that seemed to say ‘this is A, this is B’ sorta stuff. She then looked at the potions that were unlabeled then the list again. ”No, I think it has to be based on its magical element. For example, this one you guys found is D, or water element. Not useful for making that potion, but I have a list here of what element is which letter. If someone could find more ingredients, I can tell you what magimins they have.” Sectonia said.

[Yankee]

Power Stone Games: Ōedo

Friday Morning
Location: Esaka's Mid-Tier, Forbidden Kingdom
Word Count: 2830 (+3 exp)

Therion - Level: 10 - Total EXP: 394/100
Bowser Jr: Level 15 EXP: //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////(340/150)
_{@Yankee@DracoLunaris@Lugubrious}

Therion wasn't terribly surprised that the Power Stone games were going to involve fighting. That was pretty much all the citizens of this city were into after all, even if he had been sort of hoping for something else. The combination of the man in red's droning accent and the thief's disinterest in competing in a fighting game himself made Therion's eyes start to glaze over with indifference. He probably wasn't going to be all that good at this, especially compared to the tiny powerhouses of Junior, Rika, and Yayama (who'd also shown up) and professional fighter Juri, but he was already here. One round wouldn't kill him. Hopefully.

After getting the gist of the goal from Edward Falcon, and noting that their group had actually been name dropped which meant that they really had no semblance of keeping a low profile left, Therion turned to saunter deeper into the amusement park. With the Seekers there were just over sixteen people playing, so he assumed there would be four concurrent Power Stone matches going on that the audience could watch. He was sure that the organizers were hoping more people would jump in to participate once things got underway, so a fifth match wasn't out of the question. The odd man would probably be the 'unofficial head of operations' if Therion had to guess. It actually didn't occur to him that it could have been him instead, if he'd just volunteered to sit the first round out.

'Find yourself a stage' had been one of the directions, and out of all of the ones Therion passed, the area that he chose was like a town in miniature. It had the same aesthetics as Esaka and its surrounding villages did, complete with small rustic houses, cobblestone flooring, water wheels, and a torii gate all set before the backdrop of a man made waterfall and pleasant looking autumn foliage. The sign that stood at the entrance declared the stage's name: Ōedo.

It was good enough, Therion thought. It was neither the most boring choice nor the weirdest one, but even so it did little to inspire much enthusiasm in the thief. In fact, now that he stood in the center of Ōedo and the surroundings were really sinking in, Therion felt some kind of nervous tingle ripple down his back. After a brief and subtle shudder he pushed whatever it was to the back of his mind, because it was now a little late to swap stages. The other people that were to be his opponents in this free-for-all had begun to arrive.

”Hey Theon! You done spacing out?” Came a shout from Jr, the little prince waving at him from beneath the Torii gate, his Mimikyu Mimi mimicking the action from where she was sitting atop his noggin.

"It's Therion," the thief pointed out. He might have been annoyed at the prince getting his name wrong if he didn't think the kid, in true child-like fashion, just genuinely didn't pay much attention to things that didn't interest him like an ally that mostly kept to himself. So no offense taken, really.

With a hint of a smirk Therion added, "and not yet. Just can’t imagine this will be much fun."

"Now that's where you're wrong!"

The upbeat, feminine voice appeared suddenly beside Junior, along with its owner who definitely had not been there a moment ago. The young woman, apparently more stealthy than her colorful outfit and personality implied, stood proudly under the torii gate while she beamed at the two Seekers and the mimikyu.

"It's a ton of fun, once you get the hang of it! It's more chaotic than the one on one tourney fights, but that's what makes it more interesting, right?"

She nodded her head to herself. Then, peering at Mimi she said, "I'm Ayame by the way, nice to meet you guys! Is this little buddy planning to fight too? Hmm, miiight need to get a ruling on if she'll count as an item assist or part of a duo..."

”I thought the guy said there wasn’t gonna be a bunch of regulations n rules n stuff about how we fight?” Jr said with a bit of a pout, before tilting his head to the side, thinking for a moment, and saying ”But, I mean, I guess in a casual smash bros fight pokeballs were items we could use so… we could always throw em into the mix as well if you wanna?”

“That works for me!” Ayame said. She glanced at Therion to see if it worked for him too, which surprised him a little but he just nodded. “Just gotta make sure everyone gets a fair start is all. After that, it's a free-for-all!”

As she spoke, the final contestant for this particular brawl wandered over: a little boy in a bright green cap and uniform, although on closer inspection he appeared to be a wooden puppet. “H-hey, guys!” he greeted the others in a shy voice, making what passed for a brave attempt and being friendly. Naturally he stood hunched-over, which made him appear even smaller than he really was.

“Hiya, Pete,” Ayame replied cheerfully. “Guess you're our fourth? Sweet! Guess we’re about ready to get this party started.”

Sure enough, the contestants were hailed by the sound of a new voice amplified by a megaphone. “Testing, testing! Ahem!” The voice belonged to a strange yellow humanoid atop a tall watchtower overlooking the area. Unlike the tournament matches, presided over by the enigmatic and magical Heavenly Principles, it seemed like the humble Power Stone Games would rely on an old-fashioned traditional announcer. “Hey there everyone, Biff here! Are you ready? Then prepare yourselves, ‘cause this hullabaloo’s kicking off in three, two, one…action!”

In an instant, Pete turned tail and ran up the wooden ramp behind him, toward the thatched house without a watermill. His goal seemed to be the treasure chest up on the roof. At the same time, Ayame went for one of the large crates scattered around the arena. Without an ounce of difficulty the ninja girl hoisted it over her head, winked at Therion, and called, “Think fast!” Then the crate hurtled his way.

Given she'd announced herself the thief didn't actually have to think very fast at all. He simply side stepped the incoming box, though not without a glance down at where it had smashed open to see if there had been anything inside it. As it turned out, there was: a colorful loudspeaker, with plastic lips and teeth around the business end which he scooped up. Perhaps since they were meant to promote these games he should have put some flair into the dodge, but at the moment he was sort of running on auto-pilot. His return fire was a little more interesting for the few spectators to watch as he kicked a nearby wooden bucket up into the air first before the follow up of a slow spin kick sent it flying at Ayame. Another bucket joined it soon after, the water it held sloshing out over the ground as it tumbled through the air at her. Ayame gave a sunny laugh at his inventive assault and cartwheeled out of the way.

With those two busy with each other, Jr also went for the treasure chest. Using his ferromancy to form a metal rod, making a run towards the house before ramming it into the base of the wall and leaping, attempting to pole-vault up onto the roof in order to either get to the chest first, or ram a flying tackle into Pete when he got up there.

Junior managed to reach the treasure chest first and blindside Pete with his shoulder barge. The young koopa prince might be the smaller of the two, but he was sturdy, and his shell packed a punch. With a yelp Pete flew off the roof and fell back to the main stage, where he sprawled with spirals in his eyes just long enough for Junior to pop open the chest and pull a big piece of candy from within, a striped green sphere visible on its yellow-dotted wrapper.

“Dang it!” Pete muttered. He picked himself up, adjusted his glasses, and spotted a crate not too far away. After a wary glance at Ayame and Therion, he turned and made a break for the box in the hopes of finding an item of his own.

”Huh? What’s the deal with this?” Jr asked, even as he unwrapped the candy, before tossing it into his mouth without a second thought. He chewed, noting it was ”Kinda rubbery” before exploding into colored spheres in a manner much like when someone used his painting portals.

After a moment, these re-coalesced into a large ball with the kid’s face on it. This teetered on the roof for a moment before tumbling off it. It hit the ground with a rubbery thonk, bounced twice, and then went rolling after poor Pete.

The prince, entirely aware and in control in this bizarre ball form, was gleefully delighted to use one of the Star Carnival’s powerups after having missed out on that particular Mario Party. He caught up to Pete just after he’d opened his crate and found a glittering orange power stone inside, and promptly rolled over both boy and box alike.

With that commotion going on behind them, Therion and Ayame's makeshift projectile duel continued. It was never going to last for long though as it was clear neither would land a hit on the other like that without really catching them off guard first. Though yet to be stirred by the game, Therion did put a little thought into his imminent approach. He was not well versed in hand-to-hand combat at all. Without the protection of the Heavenly Principles he initially assumed the people running this show didn't want their participants slicing each other up which would mean his blades were a no-go, but he had seen a couple of weapons among the gathered players...

He decided to play it safe and kept his daggers stowed away. He might not be enthusiastic about the game, but that didn't mean he was keen on losing it - especially on a technicality like breaking one of the very few rules (though if Ayame of Pete suddenly pulled out a hidden weapon then at least he'd know). Otherwise he did have the weird toothed device, which he put even less thought into using.

Therion broke into a sprint toward Ayame, his path a shallow arc that curved on her left to spook her into moving to her right. At which point he simply threw the speaker at her after flicking it on, unfamiliar with what it actually was. It had a mouth on one side, so maybe if he beaned her with it then it would latch on?

“Ow!” The megaphone bonked Ayame on the head, though it neither latched like Therion had hoped, nor seemed to do any significant damage. Since it was on, though, the megaphone activated and blasted out the giant letters O and W. Once she realized what had happened, the ninja girl grabbed the device with a grin and held it to her mouth. “YAHOOOOOOOOO!” she cried, and from the megaphone streamed a torrent of letters that hurtled toward Therion like machine gun bullets.

Needless to say that was about the last thing Therion expected to happen, and now he was much too close to be able to avoid the sudden onslaught of sound. Or not sound, since the word had physically manifested? Either way despite him making to stop and get out of the way, his scrambling was for naught as each letter slammed into him one after the other, including the punctuation at the end which was just mortifying.

"..." Therion peeked through the arms he'd managed to raise to hastily block the last couple of letters to see Ayame already with a big head start towards the closest item crate. Unlikely to be able to intercept her even with his speed he instead turned his attention elsewhere, backtracking to scale one of the water wheels and get a better view of the battlefield.

He found a conspicuous box one one of the paddles during his climb, though busting it open revealed a handful of gelatinous goop which was neither sticky nor slippery, so the thief doubted how useful it would be. He threw it anyway, aiming for the path just ahead of Ayame. The result was just as lackluster as he'd thought, as on impact the goop just made a copy of itself, and did not impede the kunoichi's progress at all. In fact she scooped them both up and tossed them back, which created a total of four of them now.

“Whoa-oa-oa-oa-!” After a few seconds of being rolled around by Junior in cartoon fashion, the prince reverted to his normal form and sent Pete sprawling. The power stone he’d grabbed just before getting flattened tumbled off toward the waterfall, stopping just shy of the edge. So far the puppet hadn’t had much luck, but this seemed to be where his fortunes changed. Another crate lay just in front of him, and after jumping on it, Pete snatched a baseball. “Here we go.” He wound up and hurled it at Junior. Rather than fall short, however, the baseball disappeared, then reappeared behind the koopa wreathed in blue flames to zoom toward his back.

The prince spun with a cry of ”Seen it!” before swinging a rapidly formed iron baseball bat at the ball. The smug look on the Jr’s face was blown away in much the same way as his bat as the raw iron was blasted through by the projectile. Metal shards showered the boy before he was slammed backwards towards Pete. The boy instinctively tucked his arms and legs into his shell as he flew, becoming a fairly dangerous projectile as a result.

Pete’s eyes widened. “Uh oh.” He jumped at the last second and tried to bounce off Junior’s shell, only for the spikes to poke his wooden feet. “Yowch!” As Junior’s shell began to bounce around the arena at a blistering pace, Pete dodged left and right in a panic. Finally, after a few frenetic seconds, Junior slid right into the goop thrown by Therion and Ayame. The koopa extended his limbs from his shell and immediately got an arm and a leg stuck. He then complained loudly as he tried to struggle free (”Oh come on! What’s this stuff!?”). To his surprise though the goop was easily flung off of him, and the pieces that had been stuck instead bounced along the ground where they'd landed and split once more.

Meanwhile, Pete not only managed to grab the power stone he’d dropped before, but find a second hidden behind a bunch of bamboo. Across the arena, Ayame noticed the gems floating over Pete’s head and changed focus, taking aim with her megaphone as she inhaled as deep as she could. Things would only get more chaotic from here as she shouted with all of her might, producing a cluster of large letters that sped towards Pete. H, O, L, and D slammed into the ground around the puppet boy, Pete himself skidding to a stop just before being struck by them. He turned heel and rushed back the other way as I, T, and ! chased after him, which put him in Therion's line of sight.

Until that moment, Therion hadn't seen any of the Power Stones that the game was named for - but he could instantly tell that the stones hovering around Pete must be them. What was it that Falcon guy had said earlier? Get three of them and transform into something powerful? The kid was one away and was likely looking for the last one, and since that was the case...

Therion leapt from his high spot and landed on the cobblestone, kicking one of the goop globs away as he made a beeline towards Pete. That made seven little green goo balls scattered all around the arena once that one duplicated itself. The goop had been subtly pulsing since the first time being thrown, and with each passing second they were growing more unstable, though the game's participants hadn't noticed. And it was at about that time that all of them broke down completely.

And exploded.

Throughout the Ōedo stage the various goops spontaneously ignited and created bright explosions in a chain reaction that caught all four players up in them. Ayame, Junior, Therion, and Pete were all engulfed in greenish light before being sent flying. The Power Stones Pete had collected were knocked out of him again, blasted up into the air before they clinked down in the mini town's center. It was something like an equalizer event, and whoever was fastest to recover would have an advantage going into the later half of this game.

[XoXKieroBombXoX]

Level 9 - EXP 71/90

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Frostbite

Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Featuring: Ramattra and Sandaphlon
Word Count: 2628 // +3 EXP

The beast caught The Omnic up on his situation as a “living painting” of an artist named Frederic, who became animated under unusual circumstances. Ramattra looked back at the paint monstrosity no longer concealed by its curtain. Whatever that thing was- it clearly was human once, its hospitality an odd welcome with how menacing it appeared. And… was that a grin? The more the Omnic thought about the specifics, the more he realized that he had gotten grossly distracted. Perhaps this odd thing could be a valuable ally if it can repair physical wounds. In fact, this entire area seemed to be of quite valuable note because of its odd restorative processes.

Returning to the only door through which he had emerged, he pushed against the heavy set of double doors once more, revealing the new scenery behind it. The bold colors clashed with the drab surroundings of the Prayer Room, the hefty door nearly closing on Ramattra’s extra appendage as he shuffled into the room. The conversation that prattled the crowd died out as the Omnic quickly noticed the dreary mood that followed an unlikely sight for sore eyes.

Sandaphlon’s condition had surely worsened during their duration in this labyrinth. Whether she was playing a poker face or not regarding her condition did not deter the Omnic from feeling relief at her well-being, all things considered. “Sandalphon! Here I was beginning to believe we had all truly lost one another!” It seemed that his arrival had interrupted a very long conversation. It was none of his business, and his ally was surely already quite on edge.

“Our journey is not over just yet. I will be by your side as long as we may. I’m counting on you.”

Although Sandalphon’s expression remained unchanged, her pupil did become an inverted triangle as she registered the Omnic’s appearance. “Ramattra. I was beginning to fear that I had lost contact with everyone. This labyrinth has confounded my long-range scans thus far. So, I am relieved to see you, as well.” She peered into the quiet, meditative Prayer Room that Ramattra had left behind moments before the doors shut. “You have likely already seen that this structure is quantum in nature. We may be able to control the chaos if we keep the doors open, and thus the rooms in an observable state. This will be more achievable if we gather more allies, so I propose we continue together.”

“I have no qualms. Before running into you, I wasn’t even sure the others would be nearby, but now it sounds like quite a solid plan.” The Omnic traced his staff along the oddly colored floorboards, examining the mystical sight before him. Was the labyrinth really this involved and complex? “But first, where exactly are we CURRENTLY? I’ve accepted a delivery for a Marla at the Sinners Inn…” he sighed, examining the less-than-helpful delivery label.

“This is the Sinners’ Inn,” Sandalphon confirmed, stepping aside to provide a full view of the bar and its proprietress. “Marla is just over there.”

The ghostly bird waved. “Got a delivery for me?” When offered the package, she nodded in satisfaction at the Medusa, Capea Gin, and Seaweed Liquor. The sight of Vintage Nectar, however, gave her pause. “Hmm…I don’t think I ordered this. Perhaps those courier brothers had a little mix-up?” She chuckled to herself. “As much as I’d love some free goods, why don’t you two take this one for the road? It never hurts to pay a little good fortune forward.” Carefully, she pushed the bottle back across the bar.

Though a little hesitant, Sandalphon accepted it. Given what she’d told Marla, this was no ordinary freebie. “You are most kind.”

The Omnic eyed the liquid's odd bottle, almost hesitant to warn Sandaphlon not to indulge in its contents. Was there really alcohol in this?

Along with the Vintage Nectar, the two received a hefty sum of rosary beads as payment for Ramattra’s delivery. Then, together, the two Seekers and Lucy the cat bid farewell to the friendly spirits and returned to the exit to see what new location awaited them.

Princess’s Chamber

Their next destination was a sizeable and well-lit bedchamber, fit for royalty. It featured rich carpets and curtains, a plush sofa, potted flowers, and an opulent vanity. In one corner stood a shiny black baby grand piano, and the bed looked very comfortable, but the room’s sole occupant -a chunky, sandy beige cat- kept well away from both by sticking to the sofa. Upon seeing the newcomers, or more accurately Lucy, the cat meowed, leaped off the sofa, and ran straight to them. The two rubbed up on one another, friendly, and Lucy sat down to lick the other cat’s fur. The poor thing seemed so agitated that Sandalphon knelt to stroke it, despite her pain. She checked its collar and saw that his name was as Sir Packet Lossalot.

“There, there,” Sandalphon comforted him flatly. When she looked up, though, her expression was grim. A quick scan confirmed her suspicions. “Multiple exotic life signs detected,” she told Ramattra. “Inside the piano. And beneath the bed.”

Rather than waste any time guessing what threat lurked nearby, Ramattra readied his scimitar in his free hand. If something was preparing to attack them, the Omnic thought it best to get the first blood. The Omnic looked back at Sandaphlon for peer confirmation before slowly approaching the piano tucked away in the room. “If this ends poorly, I need you to be ready to open that door for our escape.” Ramattra requested, asking the archangel to stand prepared in the event the threat was bigger than he was expecting.

Now mere inches away from the piano, which Ramattra assumed would contain less of the “exotic life forms” because of its smaller compartment- he slowly began raising the top board. In an instant it flew open to reveal a row of sharp teeth as big as pennants and a huge pink tongue, turning the two parts of the piano into the halves of a giant fanged maw. There wasn’t a monster inside the piano–it was a monster! With a discordant din of piano notes it leaped to life like a crocodile and lunged at Ramattra in an attempt to snap its mouth shut on as much of the Omnic as possible.

Sandalphon, already on alert, wouldn’t let that happen. In a burst of speed that agonized her petrified joints, she flung a Frost Lock at the Mad Piano that froze it solid. It would remain immobilized for five seconds total, and thanks to Perfect Experience: Fuli, any damage dealt to the thing until then would make its Dissociation all the more punishing. Rather than summon her gunstaff, though, Sandalphon took the chance to send forth ergo strings and plug them into Ramattra’s body. Perfectly suited for partnering with a mechanical ally, she could redirect, heal, and empower him as long as the two were connected.

Ramattra abandoned his sword back into the cavity his fusion caused. The blade wouldn’t be useful against the odd living furniture’s exterior. There wasn’t much to carve into when all of it looked like it was made of piano components. “It won’t go down easily! Pull me away if things start looking hairy!” He knew she was certain of the plan- considering she was the one who enacted it in the first place- but the reassurance of not being devoured whole would make defeating this enemy a whole lot easier.

Before the enemy had a chance to thaw, however, Ramattra activated his Nemesis Form to bulk his raw muscle, grabbing the immobilized instrument by one of its currently resting legs. There wasn’t much room to fight or redirect attacks, but creating space between him and his enemy was crucial- especially when his assailant appeared to favour devouring as a main attack. With a mighty blow, the creature was staggered backwards into the wall as its Frost Lock’s duration ran out. It began snapping slowly toward Ramattra and his ally. “Any suggestions? It isn’t moving very fast.”

Sandalphon quickly re-scanned the piano beast with External Information Network. The buffs it provided to her team were minimal, but it did confirm that the Dissociation had dealt respectable damage when the piano thawed. The sheer racket it made when stomping forward disrupted her focus, but Ramattra was right; this thing wasn’t speedy. “We’re making progress.” She noticed that Lucy had already charged one of her spells, and with a small yank pulled Ramattra just far back enough that he avoided the bluish cat’s MC Flamethrower. A torrent of flames struck the piano and set it ablaze, but did little to dissuade it from its path. Sir Packet Lossalot helped as well, although when he spat at the piano, the water element extinguished the burn with a hiss in an unfortunate bit of anti-synergy that earned him a scathing look from Lucy.

The archangel had already worked out her next move, though. She summoned her hexagun and unloaded into the slow, large target as fast as she could pull the trigger. Each magic ray chipped away at the piano’s black wooden frame, but that wasn’t her real objective. On the eleventh shot, the hexagun’s special effect activated and polymorphed the piano into a chicken in a burst of feathers. It squawked uproariously, gnashing its beak as it bore down on Ramattra.

While the monstrosity was weakened- a synthetic smile curled in Ramattra’s voice. “Of course. It won’t be able to resist attacks if its form changes!” The Omnic leaned forward to clutch the transformed piano by its narrow neck. With a simple crush- the beast was extinguished, quickly disappearing into ashy matter after its cheeky defeat. “That makes one threat neutralized. Are you able to get a better reading on how many are hiding beneath the bed now?”

“One,” Sandalphon confirmed. “But it’s erratic. I cannot picture it.”

While the previous enemy barely scathed Ramattra by catching him off guard, having intel before he could come to any conclusions going forward would ease his decision-making. As his hand began to reach under the frame of the bed, he waited a moment for her approval, hoping that this can of worms was the same size as the last.

“Don’t just reach beneath there blindly. Flip the bed,” Sandalphon advised him somewhat sternly, as if Ramattra should know better. Beside her, Lucy stepped forward, bristling angrily. Sir Packet Lossalot issued a nervous mew, warning both her and Ramattra to be careful.

As the Omnic haphazardly felt around the underside of the furniture, he responded by quickly removing his hand from the underside of the bed like he had just touched a hot stove. A large irregular bite mark populated the majority of his metallic hand now, a grumble of frustration escaping Ramattra as the archangel’s warning proved true. In a singular motion, the titanic monk raised the bed from the floor, flipping it to the side as he dodge backwards.

Once Ramattra used his long, strong limb to flip the bed, he revealed the lurking entity: an aberrant mass of swollen gums, purple tongues, and fangs of all shapes and sizes, topped with a somewhat human head split by a jagged maw. Its form shifted slightly as the aghast Seekers looked on, constantly changing and growing new, ever-toothier, ever more gruesome mouths. It jittered, as if about to lunge at Ramattra, but to Sandalphon’s surprise, the monster actually spoke.

“Are you a friend? Please stay back. I d-d-don't want to hurt you.“

Sandalphon did not lower her hand, ready to yank Ramattra backward at a moment’s notice, with or without his say-so.

The Omnic’s sensors dialed in on the monstrosity’s texture- the same paint-glob melty skin that another horrific entity lurking in the labyrinth shared. The painter’s cap was the final clue for what he was looking at. “You’re a living painting, aren’t you? I’ve run into another of your kind. Clue me in as to what is happening in this maze.” His voice displayed clear agitation- frustration from the unexpected wound now scarred over the metal of his hand.

The creature’s mass would shift and undulate as it tried its hardest to control its biting maws- the masses of teeth and flesh clamping down even against himself erratically. It seemed nearly impossible for the fleshy painting to stay still or answer any of Ramattra’s questions with its layers of teeth ripping at its own back. “It isn’t being outright hostile. Only if I get too close. But that… thing can’t speak while it rips into itself…” He looked back at Sandaphlon for approval as he approached the red monstrosity, Ergo strings plugged into the back of his chassis in case things got bad. “Tell me, what’s going on here? Who are you?” Ramattra braced for hundreds of razor-sharp teeth to clamp into him- mentally envisioning the scolding he would receive from Sandaphlon for his reckless pursuit of more information.

A smorgasbord of fangs pierced Ramattra’s chassis, ever shifting, ever finding new and inventive ways to redefine the word ‘bite’. Words spilled forth from the painted being. “Sorry, I’m sorry! I can't help it! This happens on its own. It's frustrating.” It paused for just a moment as it tried to articulate itself, growing snakelike tentacles tipped with the ringed suckers of leeches. “I feel like I am Frederic, but I don't know if I'm the original. I remember painting myself. I was angry, I think. The others…the voices of the others give me headaches, but I'm not sure if you can help.”

Sandalphon considered the matter in silence. From what Ramattra said, he’d already encountered at least one other ‘painted’ being like this. That was pertinent knowledge, but he hadn’t had much time in which to share it. The more pressing matter was this ‘Frederic’ itself. Even if it had good intentions, the fact remained that it was hurting her ally. Her healing miracles could prolong this conversation, but Sandalphon didn’t exactly like it.

The other Frederic he ran into told a different story- the bright one had claimed HE was Frederic himself, and didn’t seem to even acknowledge his disfigured form. This version, despite being unintentionally violent in nature, appeared lightyears more lucid about his conditions- and more importantly, the existence of his other counterparts. The Omnic got the information he needed, finally stepping away from the mass of teeth and paint, and despite his teeth-worn figure, he was content with what he learned. “I believe there are others like him,” Ramattra explained the best he could, the pieces of the paint monstrosities’ puzzle slowly forming in his head. “This one is… more aware of what he is than the Frederic I encountered. He speaks of the others as if their mere existence causes him ailment. How strange.”

“It sounds as though the existence of the others causes each one to suffer,” Sandalphon inferred, her eyes on the creature. If it wasn’t an active threat, she supposed they could leave it be. The cats did not seem eager to deal with it any further, either. “Are you planning to aid one of them?”

The Omnic considered his answer carefully, sensing that Sandaphlon could cast a negative judgment on him depending on his response. “If they prove valuable to me, yes.” There was no selflessness in his answer- no matter which of the Frederics they helped, he wanted it to be the one that would be of most use to him and the Seekers.

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Level 8 - EXP 69/80
The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

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A Dicey Deal

Featuring Tenna and Ganondorf
Word Count: 2023 +3 EXP

`With a snap of his gloved finger- Tenna ordered his troupe of companions into the grand hall to regroup with the cruel Gerudo King… he had assisted in recruiting the Darkner among the ranks of the Seekers back near Snowdin, so perhaps his abrasive demeanor and mighty Warlock attacks could help further conduct their efforts to reassemble themselves! Traffy hobbled along behind the shadowy henchmen, eager as well to reunite with his Dreadnaught master.

“Oh! Mr. Gerudo King sir!” He hailed the towering king with a pointed finger, hoping to get his attention before crossing rooms left ajar by a heavy doorstop, connecting the two rooms together. “We should move together! We can clear more rooms that way!”

The extremely cheerful CRT would point towards one of the unopened doors, hoping to direct his efforts to align with his. “It doesn’t matter what door you open. They’re all jumbled up and magicky.” He explained, not fully cautious about the method they take forward, so long as it gets the Seekers back together.

The voice pulled Granondorf out of his focus on the floating Eye. ”Hm?” He grunted, turning around to see the friendly CRT he helped recruit looking… a little worse for wear. ”What happened?” He asked, stepping forward and looking him up and down. ”Were you damaged when we were pulled into this place?”

“Bah. Nothing bad, just a little ambush that needed taking care of.” Tenna reassured, pawing his hand at the air to shoo the Gerudo’s worry. “But these rooms are imp

The explanation for the random nature of the rooms was the first he’d heard about that aspect of the College, ”Jumbled, hm?” He thought back to his interaction with Diosdado in the Library Of Negated Words. Any one key Ganondorf needed if he completed the favor that was asked of him.

”I found someone in another room.” The Warlord said, ”A keeper of the keys. He asked me to seek out a noise that’s tormenting him and silence it. In exchange he offered to part with any key we needed. I suspect that would give us a way to control which room a door will take us to by using it. That could help us… unscramble these rooms a bit.”

“Well. Jumbled might not be the right term, but the doors aren’t right. You open the same one and it leads somewhere new! It’s like a maze!” The key salesmen was certainly a lead worth pursuing, but the legitimacy of Ganondorf’s theory was certainly worth verifying. With a nod, Tenna called over one of his henchmen. Traffy tailed soon behind, pinching the doorstop between the two rooms between its plastic claws. “This was holding those two doors open! Maybe we can use it to our advantage and plan our movements… I think it’s best to get back with our team!!”

“If you had anything you wanted to do in here, I’d do it now!”

”No, I don’t believe there’s anything worth doing in here.” Ganondorf said. The floating Eye was intriguing but ultimately just a distraction. Solving how to get out of this college was the first priority. He eyed the doorstop and nodded, ”So we simply need to hold the doors open. A simple enough task. Let’s go.” Ganondorf went ahead and summoned some Moblins. He didn’t expect a fight, but he could probably have them hold doors open manually if it came to that. He peaked at the door the CRT had opened, getting a small preview of the Dice Room that waited beyond it before he strode toward the door to enter through it.

When he was inside he was able to really take in the elaborate-looking setup. The colorful discs connected by dotted lines almost reminded the Warlord of a game board. The kind where one moves their pieces a number of steps equal to the dice roll. Though he couldn’t be sure if that was in fact how this room worked, Ganondorf figured there was only one way to truly find out. And so without any real warning or build up, the Gerudo approached one of the crystalline discs and experimentally pressed a boot on it before fully stepping on.

Pressure switches were quite common in the dungeons of his homeworld, and so Ganondorf almost fully expected a trap or some other mechanism to be triggered by this act. But nothing happened. Instead the crystal disc remained inert, not giving any noticeable reaction to Ganondorf’s boot nor his body weight as he stood on it. So perhaps they were activated some other way? And that really only left one possibility based on how little else there was in the room. Ganondorf’s gaze shifted toward the arcane mechanism.

The Warlord strode toward it, thinking to try and activate it himself. But much like the discs, the mechanism appeared to be non-functional. And a closer inspection revealed why. It appeared to be sealing the doors, but beyond that its workings seemed to be obfuscated. Ganondorf’s best guess was that something was missing that was needed to make it work. But he was not an expert and so he couldn't be a hundred percent sure. But given the size of the doors, he had the impression that they led outside, so finding the missing mechanism could be what would allow them to exit the College.

Noticing the Gerudo’s frustration, Tenna took mental notes of the room. The two of them should return here once they reunite with the others. “For now we press on! There’s no room for waste!” Moving to the opposite side of the room, Tenna and his squad would begin pushing the next set of doors open, holding it for the Gerudo King to cross through, as Traffy the Traffikrab saved the passageway between doors with the odd wedge.

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Potion Shop

As the passageway between rooms was fully exposed, a new abode was revealed to Ganondorf and his gang. The labels described them as potions that could boost attributes, tonics that could increase elemental resistances, enhancers for the improvement of treasure-hunting abilities, and cures meant for the removal of unwanted status effects like poison, drowsiness, and silence. Higher-quality brews featured bigger, more elaborate themed bottles and higher prices. A handful of flower pots seemed to be growing herbs and fruits for use as potion reagents, especially beneath a glass dome-shaped skylight. There were neither any enemies nor threats that Tenna could see. At the far end of the shop, a sleeveless young woman with a pinkish red ponytail awoke with a jolt when her fellow vendor entered. "Oh, hi! Welcome in!" She gestured broadly at her wares before crossing her arms confidently, her most suave and charismatic expression chosen. "What can I get you? Each and every hand-crafted potion speaks for itself, but if you want me to sing their praises, you'll find me very convincing!"

“Oh! Goody! Potions! Uhmmm, let's see. I’m not very BIG and famous at the moment so my funds are lowwww… Do ya take trade-ins?” The CRT had enough collected to offer to the young vendor, but hoped that bartering with the loot he traveled with was valuable enough to offer.

Sylvia scratched her chin with a suspicious look, as if she wasn't totally sure about Tenna's proposition but could be persuaded. "Maaaaaybe," she drawled. "I'll want some stipulations, though. For one, pawning stuff off's a bitch in this place, so you better make it worth my while. And I'm no appraiser, so the value of whatever you've got needs to be obvious. I'm not about to be swindled!"

"I'll make it worth your while! Do you have anything that can help us navigate the rooms behind us? We were with friends if that helps!" The TV was boisterously cheerful, chipping up at the thought of being with more company than his saxophone chirping bodyguards. “Here… Erm…” Recalling how to condense spirits into items, Tenna clutched the stray souls of the Gargoyles from the previous couple of rooms and condensed them into useful items…

Tenna Aquired

Spiral Rapier A rare rapier with spiral grooves carved into the blade. It is the weapon of choice of the stone gargoyles in Latria. It is meant to inflict pain and cause bleeding rather than deal damage, which provides a glimpse into the insanity of the Old Monk. Best suited for a dextrous hand, and scales best with one's dexterity
Unknown Warrior Soul An ethereal yet tangible leftover. The remnants of a nameless soldier's spirit that remained in its corpse. Use it and the Souls will be added to your stock. Even if you leave this be, it will only become nourishment for demons.
Black Bolt x8 A large bolt with a wicked edge and distinctive black-and-white fletching, designed for use with a crossbow and able to deal respectable piercing damage at long range

Tenna practically thrust the bolts into the young alchemist’s face, offering them in pristine condition. "And I'll loan ya one of the dummies over there to help you out around the shop." He pointed to one of the two curious Shadow Guys who were incompetently investigating bottles before putting them back on the shelf like ornery children. "I promise they're quick learners... worst-case scenario, they make the best clean-up crew in the whole Dark World!"

Sylvia peered dubiously at the Shadow Guys for a moment before returning her attention to her potential customer. "I've got stuff that'll help you through any problem, so long as you've got the gold? Or, uh, the trade-ins!" She held up fingers as she rattled off her stock. "I've got potions that'll restore your health and mana, cures for curses and petrification, enhancers that'll boost your insight and awareness, and more! Different qualities at different prices too, so there's no customer with too little or too much money!" The brewer gave Tenna a charming wink as she accepted the bolts as barter fuel.

“Would ya have anything that’ll protect me from the elements? Like a magic ‘dungeon-crawl’ potion?” She seemed entirely befuddled by his language. There was certainly nothing quite like that in her inventory.

“Well… I’m not quite sure about anything like that. But oh! Maybe heightened awareness is just the thing you need! Maybe an intelligence potion?” The bubbly woman turned around to investigate her collection. “I’ll tell you what! My tonics can protect you from all sorts of elements that the beasties here will throw at ya, just a teeny bit. What 'dya say?” She procured a red potion, contained within a fancy bottle.

Tenna contemplated the offer before snapping his finger in decision. “DEAL!” Tenna claimed the bottle, but her grip didn’t fully release.

“I’ve decided I could use the help. Grab a broom, flatman!” Sylvia dusted her hands after allowing Tenna, Ganondorf, and Traffy to begin walking back toward the door. Sylvia snapped her finger suddenly. "Oh! If you're gonna be exploring this place, could you keep an eye out for my brewing room? It's super important for my business. I normally have a special key that takes me straight there, but..." She rubbed the back of her head self-consciously. "I might have...left it there? If you can bring me that key, I'll set you up with fi...three! Three potions, of your choice, free of charge!" She clapped her hands together. "So, we have a deal?"

“We’ll keep an eye out! Bye-bye potion lady!” Tenna stared his Shadow Guy down. He had summoned his employees to aid him too recently and would need to wait a bit if he didn't want to go bankrupt. “You’re still in my contract. I’ll be back for you.” He raised a threatening finger at his employee, who was now donning a cleaning cap and dustpan, helpfully collecting glass shards from the corners of the potion room.