Recent Statuses

11 mos ago
1 yr ago Well... I've been on a fighting game kick anyways. I guess this is as good an excuse as any to pick up another one.
2 yrs ago
[Relevant meme]
2 yrs ago


Name: (^That one)

Age: 23

Race: (Duh...)

Interests: Art, anime, music, video games, cinema, martial arts, parkour/free running, combat sports (i.e. paintball), etc.

Aspiring to be: Animator, writer, voice actor, artist, martial artist, musician, and whatever else I need to/want to/can be.

Fandoms: Fuck, there are so many. Lol. I guess off the top of my head, I'd say... RWBY, Smash, Avatar, Undertale, Overwatch, One Punch Man, Legend of Zelda, Metroid (mainly Prime), Teen Titans, My Hero Academia, and a bunch of other shit I can't think to name right now.

Current RPs: Project Crossover

Gamertag: Etherean Fire
NNID: LordNinth

I chose him knowing full well he wasn't exactly deep or well developed. However I saw this game as a chance to expand on his character/personality. Getting to play grizzled, punchy, loose cannon cop who is a virtual nobody in the world of videogames alongside wisecracking skeletons and Gem Fabio from LoL sounds like an amazing experience.

tfw anime turns your ancestor's god into a big tiddy anime girl

Most Recent Posts

Level: 4
Day/Time: Day Two; Evening
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 2nd Floor -> 1st Floor
Tags: Wario @Holy Soldier, Alicia @Zarkun
Mentions: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki, Cloud, Waluigi @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 1078
Blue Eggs: 100 -> 94/100
Red Feathers: 98/100

The look of devious contemplation that came over Wario said everything they needed to know even before sliding every square inch of his fat ass oversized posterior down the high-stacked mound of bullion to give them his answer--they had him convinced. Despite the doubts everyone seemed to have earlier on, the amount of trouble the team had been saved versus how much they’d been in up to that point spoke volumes of Frisk’s overtly diplomatic approach to every situation--no matter how hopeless--and that they were able to persuade a likely adversary to ally with them in to coming battle (especially after what they pulled with him at the start of the mission) only further testified to that. Even amongst heroes, it doesn’t seem to occur to most just how beneficial it is--for all--to have a charismatic, rational, and DETERMINED pacifist around to do greater good where it can be done. It’s not as if Banjo had never attempted diplomacy himself, but on account of his mouthy companion and a myriad of contrivedly absurd misunderstandings, it never quite did pan out that way for the two. To say the least, it was nice to see that change for once.

While Wario was eager to lend his talents and abilities, even if it was motivated solely by the prospect of personal gain, his brother(?) didn’t appear to share his enthusiasm. One would think Waluigi had a little more fighting spirit than he was showing here, considering it was no secret to anyone that he would routinely and obstinately re-submit his candidacy for Smash numerous time a year in light of repeated rejections. Given the cartoonish, embarrassing, and arguably uncharacteristic show of stubborn cowardice on display, it was hard to believe that this was the same guy… unless, of course, the new Dedede truly was that frightening. With the farcical antics concluded, the party began their march down the last flight of stairs to the final boss.

A familiar theme queued as they took their first steps into the deep, winding well of pitch vapor that gradually thickened on the way down until it all but replaced the oxygen in the air. Thankfully, it wasn't enough to actually present itself as a prevalent environmental hazard. However, they did all still have their gas masks (a spare for Alicia) from mission start that they could re-equip on a moment's notice should that change and the need arise for “Hey, Banjo, you hear that? The music's changed again,” Kazooie remarked to the non-diegetic sound that seemingly only they were aware of.

“Yep, I recognize it,” Banjo acknowledged. “Usually, something bad happens when it does. I have a particularly bad feeling about it this time.” He wasn't the only one. Everyone in attendance seemed visibly and understandably nervous or on edge--especially Wario, who seemed like he was already starting to regret his decision to accompany the party. This inspired a justifiable concern in Frisk about the fat man’s willingness to participate that forced a call for change in their formation that would ensure it.

“Relax, Gas Bag. You're immortal, remember?” Kazooie casually reminded in an almost mocking manner just how little the villain had in the way of excuses. Banjo simply smiled and gave him a firm, prodding, but non-aggressive pat on the back with to urge him forward. They eventually arrived at a vacuous, unlit chamber (at which point the music would stop) to find the King himself brought low with sickness, supported only by a set of stolen armor.

“Hmmm… I don’t know about this, guys,” expressed Banjo with misgivings about fighting one with potentially terminal illness. “He doesn't look so good. We should probably get him a doctor.” After having made her own observations, Alicia whispered her thoughts to the duo.

“I'm not sure which one is ‘Fatso’ anymore,” Kazooie replied to the stalwart, whose stoicism made it difficult to tell if she was joking. “This guy can't even stand up on his own.”

“Come to think of it, aren't those the boots that fish lady asked us to bring back for her?”

“You thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Beating a helpless sick patient while he's weak so we can steal back from him and try them on?”

“Something like that.”

“Then no.”

“Just asking”

Unconvinced that the penguin's condition could be reversed, he had his weapon readily brandished in anticipation of a battle, but respectfully waited for Frisk to attempt a peaceful resolution before acting. It took the child practically nothing to get Dedede to confess to everything. If anything, he seemed ready to talk; he was desperate. His compliance did him sadly little good, however, for it was apparent by then that no one there could help him. His agonized cries for mercy from a nightmarish episode of impending body horror were cut short by the sound of snapping vertebrae as his mouth was forcibly stretched open to proportions unfathomable even for him. Kazooie recoiled at the sight with slightly puffed cheeks and a wing covering her mouth, choking back the urge to vomit, while Banjo simply squinted his eyes shut and averted his gaze as he sucked air through gritted teeth.

A blinding flash--from which the bear and bird shielded their eyes (and each other’s)--accompanied the emergence of a dark, oily, cycloptic ectoplasm from the king’s gruesomely contorted form. It promptly began sizing up the group before training its sight on the duo and picking them as its first target. The boss’s eye constricted, and the unseen force of threefold gravity bore down on them, forcing Banjo onto all four points and leaving a concave dent in the floor where he stood. In a prime position to do little else until they regained full mobility, they opted to fire two sets of three-round egg volleys at the creature’s in the hopes that stunning, blinding, or distracting it would do the trick, but this assumed that the magic was concentration based. Either way, if this proved successful, Banjo would begin rushing to close the gap to get within melee range, where him and Kazooie where more effective. Talon Trot could theoretically get them there faster, but the start-up and end lag on it was too great to risk standing still in front of and enemy whose pattern they had yet to discern for. For now, standard mobility would suffice while they took care to look out for any attacks they could actually dodge, in the event they had to.

Level: 4
Day/Time: Day Two; Evening
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 3rd Floor -> 2nd Floor
Tags: Wario @Holy Soldier, Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki
Mentions: Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud, Waluigi @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 728
Blue Eggs: 100/100
Red Feathers: 98/100

The group barely made it out of the 3rd floor and into the stairwell before moral quandary began to call itself in again, and a short-lived debate of ethics ensued once more. The bear and bird kept silent during this (uncharacteristically so, in the case of the latter) because they were, quite simply, out of their element. In the past, there was never any question of them being in the right, what with having a very clear evil to face, and never before have they been challenged with any ideas to the contrary. Then again, they’ve never had a boss willingly sacrifice themselves for their sakes--a fact that their child leader seemed visibly unhappy with. The soldier urged everyone else onward while he attempted to console the child. Just as well. There was more emotional tension in the air than the duo was used to or comfortable with, let alone would they know what to do, so it made the most sense that it be left up to with some experience (mostly personal) in such matters.

The soldier and the duo wisely pressed on while the other two stayed back to regroup amongst themselves. The path downward was lit with a gilded radiance that shone through the doorway with such brilliance to announce itself before they could see it. The bright, tintinnabulous clattering of soft metals running across itself told Banjo and Kazooie that what lied ahead was none other than a treasure hoard--something they had seen before. They expected this time, however, that it would be substantially larger, that they wouldn’t be welcomed there (obviously), and that they would be in for a fight when they arrived. Naturally, they were surprised to find their expectations subverted when they showed up only to find their work already done for them. Even more surprising a sight than the quartet of floor bosses having been laid out prior to arrival was that of the two presumably responsible relishing in a bountiful victory.

Sat upon a makeshift throne of bullion and precious gems was none other than their unwilling IED from earlier, Wario, and his ambiguously related partner in crime--his “brother”--Waluigi, performing the physically impossible (for most). They broke from their celebratory immersion upon taking notice of the heroes to inquire--with an inordinate degree of surprise that would suggest offense to the very fact--as to how they made it there… as if there was really much of a question that they could.

“Honestly, we’re kind of wondering the same about you,” Banjo remarked, genuinely curious as to how the two could be left at the top of the building and still manage to beat the group nearly to the bottom.

“He probably rolled… or bounced,” snarked Kazooie at the portly villain’s expense.

The true answer to the riddle of how they made it there so quickly was probably closer to them simply taking “the short way” and jumping down, which was more than certainly in the realm of feasibility for them, but that hardly mattered at the moment; they had a pair of winged boots and the bottled soul of a legend to look for. Once the rest of the group rejoined them, Banjo and Kazooie set to scaling and rummaging through the stacked hills of gold, much to Wario’s chagrin. They ignored the greedy doppelganger's protest, but he did have a point about their chances of finding what they were looking for. Their history suggested that they were particularly good at finding things (if the Ice Vault was any indication), yet they were having no such luck here. After about the fourth or fifth time sliding downhill, Banjo started to concur with Wario’s testified doubts.

“I think he’s right. I doubt the king would leave something that valuable behind knowing we were coming for it,” Banjo reasoned. After a moment, Frisk proposed to the brothers (perhaps against everyone’s better wishes) that they ally with them for the upcoming battle, which seemed both a good and bad idea, given their potential utility as well as their character. The child rationalized with Wario a personal incentive on his part for lending his aid, and their reasoning, while not entirely bulletproof, was convincingly solid. Now it was just a matter of finding out whether or not Wario was convinced. The bear and bird awaited attentively for whatever answer may come.

Level: 3 -> 4
Day/Time: Day Two; Evening
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 3rd Floor
Tags: None
Mentions: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki, Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 562
Blue Eggs: 100/100 (Reset)
Red Feathers: 98/100 (Reset)

The bear and bird hadn’t fully turned back around to face the sun (as bad as that is for one’s eyesight) before their ears were met with his agonized screams before catching sight of the gruesome visual that made the reason for it immediately apparent. They saw Mr. Shine tumble haplessly to the ground with one of Bright’s blades protruding from his eye socket, and as he impacted, nightly darkness overtook the opposite end of the room, splitting it evenly down the middle between day and night. The hate-hate relationship between the two cosmic entities--for which the unnatural contrast in setting seemed to be a suitable metaphor--made it difficult for the duo to tell if the sickle to Shine’s eye was the result of a missed strike against them, a treacherous cheap shot by Mr. Bright, or a freak accident of the blade somehow being sent astray. Regardless of what happened to be the case, a harrowing momentary realization hit them that they were just lucky enough to have narrowly avoided a similar (or worse) fate, as they had failed to notice it happen when it did. The action was brought to a sudden but brief standstill as the moon stared down the sun contemplatively, and Banjo and Kazooie held their flight in place (as much as they could without gradually descending, that is) to carefully observe the scene from on high.

Everyone collectively came to their own internal realizations regarding the events that had just transpired, but Mr. Bright’s was soon made the most evident--and urgent. He began making his way slowly over to his wounded should-be ally under the mistaken presupposition that he was given the opportunity to effortlessly finish him off. Expectedly, Shine wouldn’t let it stand, so he retaliated preemptively with a volatile blast of plasmatic energy that threatened, by his assertion, to claim the entire battlefield and everyone on it. And so, as was all but inevitable, the sun and moon turned against each other. The sun posed a more immediate threat, however, so the duo didn’t bother waiting for Frisk’s call to take action; their own assessment sufficed in deciding that he was too dangerous to be left uninterrupted. With an anticipatory tuck, the two shot forward in Mr. Shine’s direction with a reckless burst of speed, leaving behind them a red energy trail similar to when they took flight and spending two feathers in the process (one for extra distance/good measure). Connecting the attack should prove easy enough with Shine preoccupied, so an unexpected concussive blow as forceful as this would ideally be sufficient in causing him to stop what he’s doing if not knocking him unconscious.

As was typical, a successful impact would send the duo tumbling backwards at an upward angle, which Banjo would attempt to take advantage of by reaching for the embedded lunar blade to pull it from Shine’s head, flinging it behind them and away from everyone else. It would undoubtedly be painfully and damaging for him, but it struck Banjo as cruel and unconscionable to simply leave it there, even if they did, by chance, end up having to dispatch him shortly after. That said, he wouldn’t expect the already angry celestial to be grateful to him for it, so as soon as Banjo’s feet touched the ground, him and Kazooie would stand ready for whatever came next.

Level: 3
Day/Time: Day Two; Evening
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 3rd Floor
Tags: None
Mentions: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki, Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 501
Blue Eggs: 90/100
Red Feathers: 99/100

Ability: Flight

Cloud, Alicia, and Kazooie focused down their lunar adversary before he could get a chance to properly rebound, stacking each of their attacks on top of the other. The combined assault more than sufficed in visibly (and quite literally) chipping away at him, forcing him on the defensive surprisingly early into the battle. Noticeably worried by the realization that he had already been wounded, Bright hurriedly attempted to conceal it to no avail, and his so-called “partner” offered him nothing in the way of reassurance with his discouraging mockery, which in all likelihood only served to further exacerbate the moon’s frustration. In fact, Shine seemed to be rooting against his own “partner” in anticipation for his own turn, apparently failing to realize that Bright’s downfall would be directly tantamount to his own, as he would be left confront all of them alone and unaided. More tactical minds would conclude that the adversarial lack of cooperation between Mr. Shine and Mr. Bright would prove to be the instrument of said downfall, but to the bear and breegull, who spent the better half of their lives working together as best friends, it was both inconceivable and unacceptable.

However, it did proved to be ironically--if unintentionally--helpful in its own way, as Mr. Shine, in his bout of derisive laughter, began pouring tears of cinder onto the battlefield below him. Banjo did his best to evasively sidestep the downpour so as not to catch fire whilst still trying to keep some focus on Mr. Bright. The verbal telegraphy of loudly, dramatically announcing his incoming attack made that easy enough. Banjo peered slightly over his shoulder at the swirling blade of moonlight rapidly closing in on his back-right flank, and with a brief window to respond, the duo swung arm and wing upward to Flap Flip over the boomerang as it made its pass while turning mid-jump to land facing in Mr. Shine’s direction. As feet touched down, wings went up, and with a low chirp from Kazooie to signal, she flapped them forcefully, sending her and Banjo soaring upward with a trail of glistening red light marking their ascent.

The familiar sensation of flight was one lost on her over the years that she had long missed, but she wouldn’t be able to fully relish in it just yet. At the moment, they had allies to protect and two bosses to pummel into submission, and seeing as she particularly enjoyed the latter, it more than made up for not having the moment to herself to enjoy recovering part of her old self again. She would start this off with four ‘celebratory’ shots at Mr. Shine to divert his attention from the goings-on at ground-level, and then banked left away from him, hoping to draw his gaze. All the while, her and Banjo would be sure both to keep an alternating eye between them on their allies as well, just in case they came under sudden need for air support at any point during the battle.

Level: 3
Day/Time: Day Two; Evening
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 5th Floor -> 4th Floor -> 3rd Floor
Tags: None
Mentions: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki, Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud @Holy Soldier, Phoenix Wright @Leaves
Word Count: 964
Blue Eggs: 94/100

Kazooie was rightly ignored during her and Banjo’s turn in favor of a more urgent matter. Given that she generally tended to draw too much attention (mostly negative) their way, it was unusual for the duo to have focus taken off them so easily, but in this case, it came as more of a relief than anything. The issue at hand was none other than an apparent inventory malfunction on the Bros’ part. A live explosive somehow loosed itself from one of their pockets while they were engaged in their fits of laughter, at which point Frisk set to trying to rectify the problem, which really just meant physically carrying it as far away from the scene as possible. S/he then proceeded to disarm it in the stairwell with… something. To an uninformed observer, it was difficult to tell exactly what it was that the kid kept projecting forth, but it could be safely inferred that there was definitely more to them than appearances and demeanor suggested.

Astonished by what they had just witnessed, the two brothers rushed over to the child--and the soldier who covered them--as hastily as their anatomy would allow to offer their thanks. The second bro made note of the fact that Frisk chose to save their lives in their moment of weakness rather than exploiting their hysterical stupor to do away with them, while the first was at the child’s feet begging forgiveness for his prior indiscretion. Their decision to shift their allegiances in the heroes’ favor followed shortly after, but not without some brief debate amongst the two regarding the matter. The bear and bird couldn’t help but notice the part where they were afraid that Kirby would come to “kill” them. Kirby? That harmless looking pink creature back on the ship that Rosalina was playing with? What kind of universe was this where that was the apparent bane of everyone’s existence?

Regardless, it sounded like the bros could go for some much needed and very well justified desertion, but not before they returned their favor of gratitude to the team. They volunteered to get them through the next floor and began leading them down. As the team made their descent, the scent of sea salt hit them with the steady rise of moisture content in the air--a familiar sensation to the bear and breegull. This told them that water awaited them at the end… and them some. They arrived at a dark, cavernous ocean body with but a narrow bridge of dock stretching from one end to the other for footing, and from beneath all of it abruptly emerged the would-be floor boss, Fatty, arcing overhead and splashing down on the side opposite. Banjo and Kazooie both waved at him as he was formally introduced. The Poppy Bros (the smarter of the two, mostly) made their case to Fatty, explaining what had lead up to it, and without any fuss whatsoever, the blue whale casually agreed to let the team by. Good thing, too, as the duo would have been ill-suited to face him at their current level without most of their abilities (and maybe some help from Mumbo and/or Humba). While he was at it, he made sure to warn the group that those up ahead wouldn’t be so easy-going or merciful as him.

“Too bad for them,” added Kazooie somewhat cockily, implying that the proceeding bosses would be better off following Fatty and the Bros’ (but more so Fatty’s) example. Banjo returned a nod to the floor bosses in parting before continuing onward. They eventually found themselves in yet another dark room, but the feeling of open air and soft grass against Banjo’s bare feet gave him some sense of where he might be, even if it didn’t make sense. Then again, not much here did.

In came two voices to break the silence, followed by the reveal of illuminating presences to give them shape, which came in the form of sun and moon. They barely finished introducing themselves by name (Misters Shine and Bright, respectively) before they took to aggressively arguing over who would get the first shot at the heroes. The sky flickered compulsively between day and night as the two celestial body caricatures butted heads competing for the leading spot in their turn order. What stopped them from both acting as a unit? What it simply because day and night took turns by way of natural order? Whatever made things easier on the team would be fine by Banjo and Kazooie, either way.

They finally came to a reluctant consensus with a single round of Rock-Paper-Scissors that Mr. Bright had been the victor of. Mr. Shine begrudgingly conceded and took his place at the top of the “room”, casting daylight on their chosen battleground. Bright dropped to ground-level and wasted no time making his first move. He began to whirl like a saw before charging recklessly towards the group, kicking up fresh grass trimmings in his wake. Banjo threw himself to his left without thinking, having almost no time to, in an attempt to dodge that might narrowly succeed. Kazooie would then capitalize on his momentum by twisting clockwise with wings outstretched, reorienting them to face in the direction of the rolling moon, and bringing them to a graceful stop. Banjo landed on all fours in a lunging position, taking aim at Mr. Bright as Kazooie discharged two three-round volleys of blue eggs that may otherwise appear harmless but had the speed and a glowing particle trail behind them to suggest otherwise. Admittedly, while not bad on their own, they used to have harder hitting tools in their kit to choose from, but given their current limitations, they would be more than fine making do on their ranged options.

Level: 2
Day/Time: Day Two; Afternoon
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 5th Floor
Tags: Phoenix Wright @Leaves
Mentions: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki, Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 785

Thankfully, if unsurprisingly, Frisk’s gambit for humorous diplomacy seemed to work--at least well enough to get his/herself past. All it took was some low-hanging punny humor that all but wrote itself. Now, everyone else just had to do the same and they could move forward without resistance. If the two bosses were as easily amused as impressions would suggest, then it shouldn’t be that hard to get a qualifying laugh out of them… for everyone but the two more tonally serious characters in the room, that is. They, specifically, were probably under far more pressure to perform, being out of their element and all. It’s said that comedy of harder to write for a reason, but who knows? Perhaps, it was merely assumed that their sense of humor would be woefully lacking. Maybe, there was a chance that they could end up surprising everyone, and they would get their chance to do so after the lawyer, who visibly struggled to come up with anything that might work.

“Here’s a joke: You’re funny,” said the breegull sarcastically, deriding the lawyer for his attempt at humor. He was bombing, and he knew it. The party’s survival hinged on everyone’s individual comedic success, yet there Kazooie was halfway to proverbially booing the man off stage. Then, he dropped an actual punchline, and then to his knees, clearly lacking any confidence in his chances.

“Hmm… maybe you guys should have mercy on him,” Banjo petitioned, hoping to bail the lawyer out. “I mean, he already looks beat. Why blow someone up if they’ve already blown i-” He was stopped just shy of finishing his appeal by the delighted giggling that proved it to be unnecessary, as seemed to have gone unnoticed through, anyhow.

“Okay, I’ll give him that one.”

“Well… as long as it works for them…”

Eyes then fell on the swordsman, who was too absorbed in thought to notice right away. In all likelihood, he was still trying to think of something funny--at least by some remotely passable definition of such--but one of the Bros quickly began to grow impatient with him. Tensions escalated to a frightening high when he threatened to bomb the remaining party as his brother talked him down from it. Eventually, the mercenary delivered. In line with every other joke told up to that point, it was painfully bad, but it became apparent that it was exactly what they needed when he had them falling on their back with uncontrollable laughter. At some point after that, the duo’s turn finally came around.

“I guess we’re up. You remember any good--or bad--jokes?”

“Yeah. I think I know what we’re going for here.” While she didn’t appreciate being mistakenly referred to as a “chicken”, Kazooie understood the circumstantial need to repress her characteristic urge to fire off insults in response. As difficult as it may be to dodge such a habit, it was important to remember that this wasn’t their game anymore. They were unscripted now, so she didn’t have to start fights (not that it would always unfailingly occur to her).

“Just try to keep it safe for work,” Banjo reminded. They were E-rated mascots in an E-rated world, after all.

“Alright. What’s big, white, heavy, and can’t climb trees?”

During the brief pause, Banjo pondered on what the answer might actually be. Boggy? Mrs. Boggy? Groggy? The latter in particular stuck out in his mind with the keyword ‘heavy’ as a reminder of the time he had to physically carry him to the Witchyworld exit. Then again, they all fit that description. Big. White. Heavy. Probably couldn’t climb trees since they were polar bears. It didn’t really matter either way. This wasn’t a puzzle or life/death trivia question like he was used to, and none of those answers made sense as a punchline. He was clearly overthinking it. Three seconds pass.

“A fridge.”

Of course. An anti-joke. A loaded setup with an absurdly obvious answer intended to subvert the idea behind it. It would probably work, though. However, a simple inventory malfunction threatened to jeopardize their efforts. Banjo noticed Frisk scrambling to relocate the loose explosive to minimize the damage done as well as just getting it safely away from everyone else. It didn’t seem advisable to leave them to take care of it alone, even if by some chance s/he knew what s/he was doing.

“Erm… Kazooie? We should probably-”

“Hang on. I’ve got one more,” Kazooie interjected in a subdued chuckle, failing to even so much as notice, let alone acknowledge, the fact that a CHILD just passed them handling explosive ordinance. “How did the hipster burn himself?”

“He drank his coffee before it was cool.

Level: 5
Day/Time: Day Two
Location: Smash Arena
Tags: None
Mentions: Varrock @Zarkun, Shantae @Guardian Angel Haruki, Robin @DarkRecon, Cloud @Holy Soldier
Word Count: 392

The bright, distorted, percussive pattering of automatic gunfire against reflective hard light sounded off its necessary cessation as bullets returned to their source at an angle intended to spare. As anticipated, the blockade troops took the hint to cease fire once it occurred to them that they were essentially shooting at themselves. A shame that they had to be prodded into stop to actually pay mind to what they were doing, but sadly, the realization came but a minute or so too late; damage was done, casualties resulted. Behind Fox lay confused, frightened, wounded innocents--some presumably dead--who wanted nothing more than to indulge in a thrilling night of gladiatorial entertainment, now victims of a harsh, unforeseen coincidence, with more harm than help from those meant to rescue them from it. This… was unacceptable. They were supposed to help see to preventing this, not causing it! Now that Fox had their attention, he was keen on reminding them of that.

“What the hell are you all doing,” he inquired assertively, all the while trying his best not to completely compromise his composure. “You’re under the Council’s orders to evacuate these civilians… SAFELY!” He gestured behind him to the fallen civilians--none of which appeared to be infected, but gunned down without a second thought regardless. “You think they’re safe here?!” Beyond the cluster of bystanders are Varrock, Shantae, Robin, and Cloud dealing with what used to be an Egg Stealer. Fox doubled back in a running start in their direction as he quickly wrapped up his displeased address to the soldiers. “We’ll take care of the quarantine. Get these people out of here. All of them. Now!”

After hurrying his way through the civilian huddle, Fox lept from the midpoint of the stairwell towards the Body Snatcher, now (hopefully) disoriented from the blast of Void smoke to its face. After releasing the Nightstalker from its grasp, Fox would air dash toward it to swiftly reduce the distance between it and him to zero. The motion trail that followed him darkened, wicks of flame subtly cloaked his form, and as he came to a stop directly above the creature, a dim glint signals a spontaneous eruption of explosive force inexplicably generated from the vulpine. Ideally, it would suffice to dispatch what would turn out to be the last of the remaining threats in the arena.
@Mattchstick@Holy Soldier I don't think it will matter all that much, but I'd say the magless pistol would be fine, especially if it functions that way in game.

Level: 2
Day/Time: Day Two; Afternoon
Location: Butter Building; Interior - 6th Floor -> Stairwell -> 5th Floor
Tags: Frisk @Guardian Angel Haruki
Mentions: Alicia @Zarkun, Cloud @Holy Soldier, Phoenix Wright @Leaves
Word Count: 716

The duo lingered a few paces behind the group as the two warriors began to interrogate and admonish the child. They seemed to be having a brief, mild-mannered debate about ethics based on their own personal experiences; a discussion stemmed presumably from the child’s aversion to violence or lethality. Kazooie peeked her head out over Banjo’s shoulder as they both listened in, but neither chose to interject, which was strange for the normally outspoken and opinionated breegull. This was mostly due to the fact that the two had nothing particularly helpful to contribute to the conversation, as the fact that they, too, had never actually killed anyone was more nonsensically incidental than anything. Even a fully decomposed (and later dismembered) Gruntilda was able to inexplicably retain sentience and come back to be a problem for them again, and she even continued to hold on to it after being reduced to just a talking skull. (Perhaps she was filled with DETERMINATION.) Come to think of it, what did they do with her head when they were done using it for their end-of-game “kick around”?

Anyways, if there was any takeaway from the exchange between the soldier and the pacifist, it was just how greatly everyone’s experiences can vary and how that can shape their individual behaviors and world views. The two in question were easy to relate to on some level. On one hand, Banjo and Kazooie have had their fair share of run-ins with those who used reason more as a last minute contingency or, in some cases, were unwilling to see to it at all, but in fairness, at least one or two of those instances were due in part to being comically inept at diplomacy. On the other, they also understood and consistently put into practice the way of MERCY, as they never had any reason to put anyone down and never went out of their way to do so, which ultimately proved more helpful in the end. Taking each other’s experiences and methodologies into consideration, the squad managed to come to a passable accord regarding how to go about handling the upcoming floor bosses before pressing on to the next one.

As far as Banjo and Kazooie were concerned, the kid need not worry about them implementing lethal force against their enemies, but it didn’t hurt to reassure them of that, even s/he already understood that about the two. Banjo approached their leader as they proceeded down the stairwell and gently dropped his heavy paw/hand on the child’s left shoulder, stopping them only for a moment a word of solicitude to their sensibilities.

“Don’t worry, Frisk. We’ll do our best to beat them without overdoing it,” he offered with a soft smile.

“Yeah. Pummelling bad guys into submission is kinda our thing,” added Kazooie, about which she wasn’t wrong, if there was anyone around Frisk could count on for simply knocking bosses unconscious, it was them.

With that, they continued onward, eventually finding themselves in a dark, but discernibly circular room inhabited by two bouncing shadows conversing in a slightly hushed register. At least they had some idea of how to set the mood for a boss fight, but it was nothing the duo hadn’t seen before. The two brothers began to banter aimlessly about not wanting to work any harder than they had to after the battle. Murderous intent aside, Banjo could sympathize, as he tended to be more carefree and lackadaisical when not on an adventure (likely to Kazooie’s dissatisfaction). While they rambled on, Frisk called for the team’s attention to go over their plan, who then did something strange with what looked like their heart (which inspired curiosity for later questions) that was somehow supposed to service said plan. Banjo would just have to trust that their leader knew what s/he was doing, and while he was all for them opening with an attempt at nonviolent resolution, it was quickly becoming painful to listen to. His forehead fell into his palm as their leader started playfully bombarding the floor bosses with tortured puns, hoping to relate to the bombers in hopes of defusing the situation. Should s/he fail, Banjo and Kazooie would be ready to intercept any bombs that may (or may not) fall their way.

Level: 4
Day/Time: Day Two
Location: Smash Arena
Tags: Naija @DracoLunaris, Slayer @Lugubrious, Varrock @Zarkun
Mentions: Cloud @Holy Soldier, Steve @Rockin Strings
Word Count: 592

Gnasty really should have known better prior to his raid what he was getting himself into. He now found himself downed, wounded (though temporarily), and exceedingly overwhelmed, facing the inevitability wrought by his hubris. The suddenly exuberant Naija teased and beckoned the fallen boss to retaliate as they had all expected him to do. He instead opted for the second smartest decision he could have made, aside from not showing up at all in the first place. He ran… fleeing back the way he came at a staggering pace that the Gnorc should reasonably have been unable to muster. Fox’s eyes widened in surprise at the display as the titanic mutant cleared their line of sight in no more than a second, but as far as he was concerned, Gnasty’s attempted retreat would be in vain. Him, Slayer, and possibly Cloud would be on him in no time, while Naija volunteered to stay back and deal with the remainder of the amorphous abominations that would no doubt continue to harass them if left unchecked. Fox then leapt from the overhead, shooting down two spotlights at their joints with the intention of dropping them on the other two mutants to give Naija less to deal with at a time.

“Keep them busy. We’ll come back for you,” offered Fox in compliance before following after Slayer in pursuit of Gnasty, likely surpassing the characteristically more diligently paced gentleman. Some few yards into the tunnel, the alarming cadence of railroad crossing bells and harsh clacking of wheel rods signaled the arrival of what Fox incorrectly suspected to be Gnasty’s getaway ride. He hastened regardless, arriving at the subway platform just in time to behold the unexpected, but timely appearance of a ghostly freight train on flaming tracks, as well as the aftermath. At least that meant their boss problem was taken care, but just in time for another to take its place. He received a call from Varrock informing him of the escalated situation on the other end with a request for backup. Fox cursed under his breath in response to the less than favorable news.

“Keep it pinned down! I’m on my way,” answered the vulpine with a sense of urgency in his voice as he set off toward the nightstalker’s location. It didn’t occur to him that he had perhaps rudely written off Slayer in his enthusiastic musings when instinctively rushing off to prioritize his duties without so much as acknowledging him, but crisis intervention took precedence in his mind. Hopefully, the gentleman would understand and forgive him for doing so. He cut through one of the paths connecting the tunnels to make good on time, arriving within the minute. Without stopping to analyze the full scene, he headed straight toward the sound of gunfire coming from upstairs, running along the rounded wall to avoid have push through the crowd of panicked civilians. At the end of his inverted stride, Fox would drop down onto the eroding wooden cube that one of the contestants was taking cover behind and raised his reflector, angling it slightly upward to avoid returning friendly fire. Having their own bullets fly over their heads would hopefully be enough to deter the containment unit’s unprovoked retaliation long enough to get their attention, but a clarified order from Fox to hold fire would follow, should the point not already be made clear. Failing that, he would have to fall back and try to connect directly to Guile--or whoever else would answer--to have the otherwise uncooperative units called off.
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