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Allison and Viola





Allison had spent much of the ride playing on a handheld, or talking to the others, but she was acutely aware of Arlette gazing at her hungrily. She had a vessel, why did this issue constantly come up with Weapons? Just because her soul was more exposed than normal didn’t mean she was a cooked turkey, ready to eat!

But with Viola around, she felt secure. Safe. There was no way in hell the sniper-girl would let someone try to eat her without breaking their legs. And that probably included Arlette.

As usual, Ms. Opal was basically having a mini-heart attack every five seconds. With how stressed she was all the time, why was she working for the DWMA? This job was the king of stress.

Of course, as Allison turned her vessel’s plastic head to look at the island itself, she saw it was for good reason this time, between the fact that the “ruined” tower had been rebuilt without anyone knowing, and a goddamn jungle had formed overnight.

“Well...at least we get an impromptu investigation mission?” she said with a weak smile, trying to stay positive.

Viola simply looked at her partner with a deadpan, every muscle on her face stiffened to a standstill. Her eyes panned back to the island and upon fully absorbing the situation they were about to actuality throw themselves into, she released a loud and exaggerated sigh before looking back to Allison.

“We could probably have picked something a little less extravagant, stupid DWMA-peh!” Viola spat dryly, though she nodded to Allison after her short-lived tantrum.

“But I suppose we won’t get anywhere with our feet kicked up, even if it means getting some sand in between our toes.” Viola briefly broke her stone face and cracked a very small smirk to Allison before returning her violet sights back to the island.

“Yeah, you’re right,” the talking mannequin said. “And imagine how it’ll look if we resolve a crisis over summer vacation. That’ll probably be worth something back home.”

Then, she sighed. Or rather, made a sighing noise since she couldn’t actually breathe. “Though to be honest, I’m just fishing for positives at this point. I’m not gonna lie, fixing whatever happened here is probably going to be incredibly dangerous. But at least we have 17 people. There’s strength in numbers.”

It was soon after that Ms. Opal began to call the duos up, requesting single file lines to keep things orderly with the amount of people onboard. Viola popped up to her feet and kicked the toes of her boots against the ship’s floor before stepping into the weapon line, her sights calmly aimed to the ground.

@CelesteEste
Allison, on the other hand, creaked her way over to the Meister line, looking straight at Arlette just in case she tried anything, and to let her know that her “meal” was onto her. As the line began to move forward, she turned away, looking ahead, chin up. She was going to fix this. No matter what.

Then the line arrived in the island town proper.

As Viola’s feet touched the land she briefly experienced an overwhelming sense of dread. Her eyes scanned those around her, squinting as her vision fixated on each person.

“Allison, keep on guard.” Viola stated plainly, the volume of her outburst being loud enough for others to hear. Though, Viola was always this way so it could just be her nature.

“Right,” the ghost said as she made landfall a little bit after Viola. She made the sound of taking a deep breath as the teacher showed the guards her DWMA papers so they could pass. As the group made it deeper into the harbor, Allison could only say, “What the fuuuuuuuck…?

Cave paintings on the walls. Warped images from the TVs that stuck out of buildings here and there. A guy in a plague doctor outfit. Plants encroaching on the buildings.

“Okay...things are even worse than I thought. What the hell happened on this island?!”

She was sure some of citizens around her must have heard her. But, looking around, they looked at her with only passing interest at best, and completely ignored her at worst.

And then Ms. Opal drank from a fountain labelled with a DWMA insignia and numerous warnings to keep away. She turned into a sheep.

Allison had never been more relieved in her entire unlife that she had no physical needs.

“So...that...happened. I...uh…” she scratched the back of her head, “...guess we have to start with the local DWMA chapter. It’s Lord Death’s face there, after all. You don’t think something happened to them, do you?” She looked towards Viola with the last sentence, and it was clear what the implication behind her statement was. Madness at the DWMA. The worst-case scenario, one that she didn’t even want to consider, but it was necessary.

“It would be safe to assume the worst, should we do some reconnaissance in the area?” Viola raised an eyebrow and canted her head to the right, further expressing the question to her partner.

“Do you want me to go ghost form? If the DWMA is the source of this, that could end badly, but a bird’s-eye-view would be really helpful right now.”

“Go ahead, I’ll watch your vessel.” Viola wrapped her arms around Allison’s shell, lightly holding the artificial body in preparation for her Meister leaving it to float from the earth’s surface.

“Alright, gimme a second.” Allison deliberately loosened and then released her soul’s hold on the plastic puppet/doll/mannequin in a practiced maneuver not unlike opening a fist that had been closed for some time.

She felt the weight of her vessel cease as her ghostly form left her empty shell, and when she fully appeared, it would have been a shock to those who hadn’t seen her before.

Red, angry stab wounds all across the body. A shorter body and a younger face. Disheveled hair, similar to bedhead. And most striking of all was the pair of ghostly pajamas she was stuck wearing until the end of time. They had, in fact, fused with her body, becoming ectoplasm with the rest of her when she died.

Good thing everyone present was either used to things like this or just ignored her for unknown reasons.

And with that, she floated up, up, up, up into the air--taking an opportunity to crack a smile and wave at the mere mortals below who lacked the power of flight--until she was above the rooftops of the highest skyscrapers. It would be a simple task to scout the city. The DWMA was usually based in an urban area, even foreign chapters, so she could just look for the building with all the big-ass skulls and she’d be reasonably certain she’d found it.

She took the opportunity to gain altitude more than a few times. She wanted to stay relatively hidden, and it was hard as hell to spot a transparent object that was high in the air. Remembering she could turn invisible, she activated them as well, just for good measure. Nothing would protect her from Soul Perception, but it was unlikely she’d run into a Weapon who could both hit her from up here and tell where she was, and that was assuming the DWMA was even hostile in the first place!

Eventually, she floated high enough to see most if not all of the island too, just to get a rough idea of the lay of the land and approximate how fucked their situation was.
@PaulHaynek

Apologies for doublepost, but the snippet is finished.
Donnie

and

Ratchet


Word Count: 1,388
Location: Fleeing Redgracoon City Police Station → Motorcycle Madness
Donnie’s EXP: Level 5 --> (4/60) + 3 = 7/50
Ratchet’s EXP: Level 6 → (14/60) + 3 = 17/60


”Omniwrench, it does it all!” Ratchet cried out as his primary weapon flew back to his hand. He was ready to take on Firebrand, holding his wrench out like the large bludgeoning club that it was, while the pyrobat was finished off by Death. He could already tell that this enemy was a cut above the rest. Just because he fooled him once didn’t mean it was going to work again. Lombax versus demon, galactic ranger against legendary warrior, truly a battle for the ages was about to unfo-”Hey hey hey where are you going?! Get back here! I’m not done kicking your butt!”

Ratchet kicked a nearby piece of debris, frustrated. Clank spoke up in response. “It would appear this is our most opportune moment to escape. I suggest we capitalize on it.”

Ratchet nodded. ”Yeah, you’re right. Alright Death, let’s blow this taco stand.” With that Ratchet jumped out of the hole in the wall left by the legendary red arremer, the greatest warrior of the demon tribes, feeling admittedly a bit unsatisfied… But hey, he made it run away, so it couldn’t have been that cool of an enemy, right? Regardless, he met up with the other survivors on the streets, where as many as possible were cramming into-”Oh hey, the weapon chick is back!” … Nico’s van. Sigh. Being the narrator of comedic heroes with fourth wall interactions can be annoying when they interrupt you.

Donnie, meanwhile, was actually starting to get seriously tired of running. Certainly, his whole career was one giant exercise routine at this point, but even he had his limits, especially when just minutes prior he’d had to basically go full gymnast while wearing a full set of ornate leather-and-metal armor with his life on the line.

And besides, he had a way to make dealing with their pursuers so much easier: Why walk when you could drive?

He ran a good distance ahead of the group, and in a practiced motion, summoned the Luggage, pulled out a mount-orb, and dismissed the bag it came from in the span of about two seconds. Then, activating the potent magics in the orb, he manifested one of his most prized possessions: The Champion’s Treadblade.

This tracked motorcycle could go from 0-60 in 2.8 seconds, could get over rough terrain thanks to its tracked design, and most importantly, had two spring-loaded blades on the sides that could flick outwards with the press of a button with such force that they could chop a tauren in half.

It was his pride and joy. He only wished he had built this thing himself. And that it made its debut in the new world under better circumstances.

“OI, RATCHET!” he yelled, “HOP ON! WE’RE GOING TO THIN THE HORDE!”

Ratchet had just brained a zombie with his omniwrench when Donnie called out to him. He sideflipped over, firing a bone spike from his handcannon while upside down in the air to take out a minor demon that was too close to the civilian runners. ”Time to lock and load!” Ratchet cocked his Coyote shotgun then vanished entirely from sight. Despite this, another Ratchet seemed to be running straight into a horde of Flood coming from behind while Donnie could distinctly feel his treadblade react to a new weight getting on. Ratchet reappeared, coyote in one hand and bombbuilder in the other, as the second Ratchet exploded into a violent burst of electricity amidst a swarm of enemies.

Donnie grinned as he felt Ratchet get on the back of the motorcycle. He twisted the accelerator, sending the tracked bike screaming off into firing range of the horde behind the runners. A Hunter, hiding on top of a nearby roof, tried to leap on him from above, only to botch its pounce in a horrific way when Donnie pressed the big red button on the left handlebar. The left blade activated just as the Special Infected’s lower half cleared the top of the bike, cutting the Hunter in twain, messing up its leap enough to send it tumbling to the ground, and making its intestines spill out onto the pavement in a hideous, gory mess. As its still-living body began to go into shock, Donnie’s armored boot crushed its head just before the treadblade moved on.

Gods I love this bike,” Donnie said as the Treadblade neared the enemy.

While Donnie focused on maneuvering, Ratchet was already hard at work unloading some hefty firepower into the hordes of enemies chasing them to ensure the safest route for the civilians still on foot. It was such a shame that the bombbuilder had such a tiny, limited ammo pool, because the big explosions were best for the situation. The bigger the clump of foes, the better as he fired off proximity mines into crowds until there just wasn’t any mana left in the gun and it had to recharge. The strays that got a bit too close got a blast of shotgun pellets for their trouble.

Once the bombbuilder was useless, Ratchet swapped out both his weapons, this time for the handcannon and the reaper. The good thing about having such an overwhelming swarm was that he never lacked in souls to power the reaper, and the spread shot could clear out big swaths of foes! The handcannon’s penetrating power was a boon too, but eventually it ran out of bone spikes and he had to switch to applying different kinds of ammo. Luckily the debris of their battle was plenty, so soon he was scooping up rocks, bent rebar, metal bits of shrapnel, and who knows what else and firing off with two guns like a madman.

“Pardon me, Mr. Donnie sir,” Clank spoke up, appearing on Ratchet’s back. “But I could not allow such an opportunity pass by without making a suggestion. I am fully programed to pilot any vehicle, but lack in certain physical attributes. Might I take over the driving so that you can assault the enemy with ranged chi attacks?”

Donnie thought it over for a second. There wasn’t a whole lot of room to maneuver with only a third of the street to drive on, and while Chi Burst couldn’t be used very often, this was the perfect opportunity to use Chi [/i]Wave,[/i] an ability that didn’t do a lot of damage or healing and you had to stay stationary for a long time to sustain, but oh boy did it have a large area of effect.

“Knock yourself out, but I can’t do these techniques as often as Ratchet can shoot. Cooldown period, ya know?” the monk said as he took his hands off the handlebars and prepared to cast Chi Wave. An arc of energy not unlike a shooting star viewed from a distance shot out of his hands and reached for the nearest monster, inflicting significant full-body magic damage, enough to send them crumpling to the ground, before it bounced to another, and another, and another, until it had hit seven targets.

Then, he would fire a Chi Burst, the projectile shooting through the swarm in a line, killing zombies and wounding demons as it went. He could use Chi Wave every 15 seconds, then Chi Burst every 30 seconds, but combined with Ratchet’s firepower, it would be enough to significantly increase their damage output.

Meanwhile Clank had taken the controls entirely and piloted with expert skill, if he was a bit more cautious than Donnie had been before. The little robot preferred not to get close enough to enemies to have to activate the side blades whenever at all possible. Of course, with all the carnage going on there was often no other choice. None of this changed Ratchet’s plans, wherein every time enough time had passed to fill one charge on the bombbuilder he swapped back to it in a flash to fire off another proximity mine into the crowds of enemies then immediately went back to dual shooting the handcannon and reaper, scooping up spirits and debris as ammo along the way.

Ratchet spotted a demon flying around that greatly resembled Firebrand, another red arrermer. Still irritated that the last one took off, he made sure to fire multiple reaper shots up at the thing before it swooped down at the running civilians. Yeah, that scratched that itch!
WIP sheet up. Sheet finished.

@VitaVitaAR

Oh, okay. Well, I'll leave you alone I guess. Or make a character for the waitlist, I don't know.

EDIT: Though if you do end up making one, may I please have access to the Discord server?
@VitaVitaAR

Wait, if you just accepted someone, does that mean the game is still accepting after all, or am I reading this wrong?
Dammit, I seem to have completely missed the sign-up period. Oh, well. I've learned not to get salty about these kinds of things. Next time, I guess.
@PaulHaynek

Uh...do you mind telling me what that is?

EDIT: Never mind, I found it. Derp. I'm gonna update it with the snippet later.
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