Lugubrious

The North Road

@goodmode I see it's been a bit since you got on. Are you intending to continue with this?

World of Light

Tora & Poppi

Level 7 Tora (74/60) and Level 6 Poppi (13/60)
Location: the End
Word Count: 1384

Bowser bore down on the Enderman like a freight train, but instead of warping out of the way of the incoming mass, it charged straight at him furiously. The two came together with great force, but what might have been an epic collision went anticlimactic as the Enderman teleported the moment it took it a hit. It reappeared a short distance away, looking rather worse for wear. A slashed crater in its odd, not-quite-solid skin marked the place where the Koopa's clawed palm struck.

A moment later it came under attack from the king's son, having rerouted to follow up Bowser's strike. The gangling Enderman lashed out at Junior with its long arms, inflicting large gashes on the side of the clown car. Junior paid him back the next moment, but after the first boxing glove struck the monster vanished again, preventing further damage. When it appeared, however, it immediately took a shot from the End. The tranquilizer dark buried itself in the Enderman's neck, and after a moment of surprised struggling the eerie thing slumped over, incapacitated.

Its defeat did not mark the end of the fight, however; reinforcements had already appeared. The Cadet clashed with one, forced on the defensive by the Enderman's long-range, surprisingly brutal swings. Tora joined him, trying to take the pressure off, and Blazermate lent a hand by summoning her striker and fixing her medibeam on the Nopon. While he took no real wounds so far this fight, her efforts did mend the scar left by Link during that scrap, so he quickly made apparent his gratitude. “Thanky-thanky, Blaze-Blaze!” Sectonia found herself assaulted by another, but its arrival brought it into the sentry's range. Each landed bullet triggered its reaction, causing a series of rapid blinks that made it practically untargetable, but also unable to land a hit. Unfortunately, with the sentry swiveling every which way to track the monster, it carelessly shot bullets without any regard for allies in the line of fire.

At that point the Courier announced his hypothesis. Everyone who'd already triggered an Enderman attack probably knew by now, but those who hadn't could avoid doing so. He plugged the Cadet's adversary with a revolver round, and while it clearly hurt, the bullet didn't kill it. To the keen observer, it was as if the bizarre creature didn't have vital parts. It made another move, only for its attack to bounce of Geralt's Quen shield, take a slice from his silver blade, and then relocate. Where it went wasn't immediately obvious, but when it came back, Geralt was ready. A vicious thrust forced it to retreat with a shriek.

After missing a shot he took a moment to plan with the Cadet, only for the monster to reappear just as he finished. Tora jumped at the chance, having prepared himself after missing the last time. “Tora get it!” Preempting the Cadet, he went low by grabbing at the Enderman's legs with his Mech Arms, holding it in place. From there, it took just one well-aimed strike from the Witcher's silver to reduce the marauding warper to a spirit and ash.

Meanwhile, Link heeded 6's advice to strike at the Enderman faced by Sectonia while the sentry was busy encouraging her allies to get out of its way. He landed a heavy slash across its nebulous body, dealing a chunk of damage. The Queen did not hesitate to make up the rest, rapidly slaying the Enderman and leaving only its spirit behind.

Everyone remained on guard for a moment longer, but no further reinforcements appeared. Luckily, the strangeness of the heroes' surroundings kept their eyes from hitting Endermen before the Courier figured out their trigger. Euden approached and finished off the dark being put to sleep by the End, and the group's safety was assured. Of course, that just left the boss. “I agree that that island is likely our boss arena,” Peach said, examining it. “This place presents dangerous terrain to navigate, let alone fight on. This void appears to be bottomless, so it'd be a...a damn shame if anyone fell.” In most embarrassing fashion her original, entirely family-friendly nature hindered her newfound ability to curse, making her sound pretty lame. Peach hurried to move on. “So! We only have a few fliers. Sectonia, Poppi, Blazermate, Kamek, his Toadies, and of course Jak.” She looked at the gunner, already soaring through the cool air. “Even if we stuck them all on catching duty, we wouldn't have the whole place covered. So we should try and take every precaution.”

She lifted up one of the Enderman spirits. “These things can teleport, and it's all we really saw them do. I would advise that three of you fuse with them so that you can teleport too, whether to reposition or to avoid falling. Might not seem appealing, but this place is real perilous, and the boss might be able to knock us off real easily. I can also just take them out of you afterward, if you want.”

Tora shook his head, which without a neck of course meant shaking a whole lot of him. “Poppi have Tora's back. Besides, Tora not be roundypon with super-long noodle limbs. No way, no how!”

Whether or not three of her fellow heroes took her suggestion, Peach then proceeded to the side of the island. She jumped into the air over open space, and with all eyes on her, began to float. She simply stopped moving downward altogether, but appeared to be able to continue moving laterally. “Oh good,” she remarked. “Haven't used this in a while.”

With a sagacious look Poppi tapped her chin. “Ah, Poppi wondered why Peach did not lead by example. She have own way.” With the group now officially crossing, she then took hold of Tora and boosted upward, flying out over the void. Good jumpers might be able to navigate the pretty sparse chain of floating islands spanning the gap, but Poppi could fly the whole way. After watching the first few go, Euden shapeshifted just long enough to beat his dragon wings and sail skyward. Once his flight got underway, he turned back, and his momentum carried him to the main island. It didn't take long for the group to reach the large landmass, though suppressing the impulse to look at Endermen took effort.

The first thing the heroes noticed were the spires. Tall, rounded spires of sleek, gleaming black stone of disparate heights formed a circle on the island, and at the top of each floated some sort of pink power cube encased in dodecahedrons of glass. There were a number of Enderman milling about, enough to make it difficult to really sweep the place. Cautiously, Peach led the team toward the middle of the island, the exact center of the circle formed by the towers. The closer they got, the more the tension seemed to mount. It was as if they walked through a dark forest full of monsters, and every step could be the one to break the twig that brought down hell upon them.

Yet nothing happened. The sky fizzled, the Endermen made startlingly abrupt noises, and the air tingled against the skin. Yet something moved in the confines of the alien sky, another black thing hidden against the backdrop, guised not by slenderness but by distance. When it turned to face the island, however, its glowing purple eyes could be seen—and brimming within, an incredible abyss, the very color of darkness itself. Still it remained almost imperceptible, right up until the very moment it fell upon the island, its great mass coming to a stop perched upon one of the towers. Roiling, effulgent purple acid welled up from within its enormous maw, and its snarl sounded almost like laughter, mocking the very idea of survival.

Warning! Boss Discovered!

Ender Dragon

The dragon launched into the air with a beat of her great wings, and dove. She swooped straight toward the heroes, aiming to scatter them to the four winds. Tora grit his teeth and prepared to block, but Poppi picked him up and jetted out of the way. Not even her masterpon, she reasoned, could defend against that. She deposited him a short distance away, and -simultaneously disappointed and relieved- he took a deep breath before popping open his missile silos. This would be one hell of a brawl.

---

Overdrive!
A boss fight has begun. For those involved in the fight, and for the entirety of the fight, tensions and stakes are high--but so are the rewards. It would be reasonable to expect two GM updates a week, meaning if you get into the thick of it but then aren’t able to keep up, Prompt Failure may result. However, rewards are accelerated.

EXP earned for posting during a boss fight is as follows: <500 words is 2 points, 500-1000 is 4 points, and 1000+ is 6 points.

Objective: Defeat the Leviathan of Black, Ender Dragon, and claim her spirit
Bonus Objectives: Figure out the secret to the Ender Dragon's invincibility

Lumbridge

Location: Land of Adventure
@Zoey Boey

Sakura's energetic search brought her to a rooftop of an abode directly adjacent to the river Lum, and from that height she could make out the promised hill, and atop it the promised tree. Its leaves shone bright in the afternoon sun, and they shook in the wind, making it tough to see what exactly lay beneath them. After a few moments' watching, however, the girl spotted an unmistakable color combination: white gi, black belt and hair, and a pair of red gloves to go along with his headband. At long last, her painstaking search, with all its hardship and wandering, had come to an end.

A few moments later a momentarily breathless Sakura stood atop the hill, the dust settling in her wake. Recognizing his friend, he gave her a rare hint of a smile. “Hm. In my travels I learned of the Forbidden Kingdom, but never went there, instead seeking challengers not accustomed to the arena. But it would seem that it has found me. I had a feeling you might.” He stood and faced her. “While I must tell you that I remain hesitant to take a student, I am eager to see how much you have improved. Do you wish to face me?”

Dead Zone

@EvilEdd1984

Though not quite in the same league of pushovers as zombies, the blue-skinned, lightly-armed demons posed little in the way of threat. When the Slayer's shotgun clicked empty after emptying it into their hides, he resorted to pummeling them to bits. Given the armored man's enthusiasm, Nero, V, and Nadia collectively opted to conserve their energy while letting him run rampant. Shadow carved through several of the hapless demon workers while Nero worked efficiently, kneecapping his enemies with the Blue Rose before cleanly cutting them down with a couple swings from the Red Queen. While Nadia's claws and blows were no joke, she found herself saddled with the hardest time fighting them. Luckily, the skirmish ended in short order.

All the while, Nero noticed the lady up on the scaffolding watching with an impassive...no, resigned expression. Through half-lidded eyes she observed the short-lived carnage, focusing on nobody in particular until the fight ended and the Slayer went to topple the crane. While he got to work, Nadia sauntered over. She waved at the other white-haired young woman. “Heya! Wow, you don't look happy. You okay?”

Looking down at the feral, the woman stretched her mouth into a forced, twitchy smile that by no means reached those dull eyes of hers. “Good after...afternoon. Um, yes, I suppose. I can hardly complain.”

Nadia grinned. “Great! So, we're on a dangerous mission and we weren't really expected to pick up survivors, but you can stay with us if you like!”

With a sigh, the lady heaved herself off the scaffolding. She landed lightly, then adjusted her glasses. “Uh, no. Or rather, no thanks. You did just dispatch my new staff, after all. I'm already horribly late, and now I must find more if I am to make a circle...my boss is going to slaughter me.”

Now that the stranger stood so close, Nadia could get a good look at her unusual features. Putting aside from the smartness of her dress, the businesswoman clearly sported inhuman eyes, horns, and a tail. In a place like this, that no doubt made her a demon, but she didn't seem to be hostile. Weird! “Oh, sorry! Most demons just attack us the moment they see us, and we couldn't stop that guy killin' 'em anyway. I hope you won't hold it against us...?”

Though clearly disgruntled, the demoness maintained remarkable composure, responding with professional dryness. “Oh, no. I understand quite well. Plus, it would violate my policies as Hell's Customer Service. I really just need to return to my duties, and as soon as possible.”

“Welp, good luck with that then!” The crane came crashing down, providing a way across the Root-infested canyon. V promptly jumped off, with Griffon lending his assistance to fly his master halfway across. The Mysterious One grabbed hold of the crane arm, rested for a moment, then took flight again to get to the other side.

Nero, who'd been hanging back by Nadia and the demoness to make sure all was well, looked back at the stranger. In a world like this, he figured, Anything goes. Even a decent demon. “Hey,” he said, “So you know, this city's gonna explode in about a day. Make sure you get out before then, alright?”

The demoness stared at him for a moment before easing up slightly and adjusting her glasses. “Hmm. Sweet of you to be concerned.” She looked down at her clipboard for a moment, then sighed. “Well, since I'm off the clock anyway, perhaps I can provide a consultation on this job of yours. Better than slogging through the dead. But I need coffee...I'm just not myself without it.”

The devil hunter almost laughed aloud. When did the parade of bizarre people stop? “Sure, whatever. We see some, we'll grab it. You have a name?” Nero asked.

“Pandemonica,” she introduced herself flatly before reciting what was no doubt her company's Customer Service byline. “I hope I can be of service.”

“Don't worry about it,“ Nero told her. After waving for Pandemonica to follow, Nadia sprinted past her ally and flew by jets of blood, airdashing into the winch hanging from the crane to swing off it and airdash again. Nero walked over to the edge and prepared for a Wire Snatch.

“Um,” came the demon's voice. He looked back to find her right on his heels, staring at the crane. “I cannot jump that. Can you...take me?”

For a brief moment, Nero gathered his thoughts. He breathed deeply, in and out. Kyrie's gonna kill me. He knew that he shouldn't consider this demon as trustworthy, but he felt obliged to give her a chance. “Okay, hold on.”

He wrapped his arm around her, eliciting a strange multi-emotion look he didn't have the time to decipher, then launched his wire to grab the crane winch for a single great swing across the chasm. They landed on the other side a moment later, separating instantly. Nero started walking immediately while Pandemonica dusted herself off, the tension palpable.

Nadia laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension. “H-hey, V! How's it feel not being part of the white hair squad?”

“Funny you should say that...”

“Okay, let's move,” Nero interjected. He eyed the Doom Slayer, wondering if he would see Pandemonica as a foe. “Just one block left to the root.” Between them and the mall lay an avenue crowded with crashed cars. While there existed a smattering of zombies, some seemed to be molten, and there were more than a few demons. Nero spotted bedside brutes, a creepy-looking hag, prowlers, and one three-headed, metallic canine monstrosity. Surely the Slayer would think them greater targets.

Final Fantasy Crystallum en Absentia

Artemisia

Swiftly the aspiring adventurers joined the battle, only for Baldur to go down straightaway. ”Oh, hell,” Artemisia moaned, with not so much as a trace of decorum. With their great leader down both Avaddon and Ianthe began vying for the monster's attention without delay, but given their different positions neither managed to command the thing's full attention and leave a real opening. Still, Blaike worked with that as best he could, and urged Luna to join him as he pointed out the Malboro's weak spot. Artemisia took a moment to confirm the special tendrils, given the fitful half-light filtering through the canopy here, and then switched targets. While the archer's shots might have more penetrating power, they would come less frequently and be more likely to miss. Given her mental state, poor Luna couldn't be relief upon to lay the pain on that the ambushed party needed to flip the battle's momentum.

The black mage lifted her arm up, prepared to cast. Her ability to float gave her quite the positional advantage, and from it she planned to send an air slash straight across the eye-stalks that Blaike's flames so helpfully highlighted. However, she saw something else: a meaty tendril reaching for Ianthe. Mitra could dodge something like that, but in her heavy gear and with her status as a defender, Ianthe would almost certainly be taking that. If a Malboro was half what it was cracked up to be, though, that wouldn't pan out well. Armor laughed off cuts and most punctures, but it could be crushed, especially by such overbearing floral fury. Then there were those black shards basically screaming 'dark magic', but she couldn't focus on those now. Artemisia clicked her tongue, changed directions, and sliced through the air with her hand. ”Razor!”

An edge of wind magic sped toward the tentacle, aimed perpendicular to its length. Though she didn't think for a moment her Razor would cut all the way through, Artemisia hoped to make it think twice, or else weaken the limb enough to make its grip weak or its girth vulnerable. A moment later, the combined efforts of the team staggered the monster, which honestly left the black mage impressed. ”More laudable than I imagined,” she praised, feeling more at ease. The Malboro then tensed up to release a rolling wave of noxious gas, but Artemisia didn't so much as flinch—and not just because her loftiness left her beyond its reach. ”I'll handle the fumigation. Aero!” She sent forth spell after spell to burst against the ground and drive the foul gas away from the main group. Those attacking from vastly different angles shouldn't be in direct peril, but they would need to keep on their toes.

Persona ~ The Beholder

Kirsty Ramaswamy

The instant Kirsty's eyes blinked open, she could feel their weight. They pulled downward as if strung by sandbags, a powerful argument for her to sink back into her pillow and the soothing world of sleep beneath. This time, however, she couldn't. She could never resist the first time, hence the second alarm ten minutes afterward. The first awakening served only to reel her up from the depths, slack enough to let her comfortably drift back down into the shallow waters of a light sleep. By the time the second alarm hit her, however, she knew it was time to rise, fishlike, from the deep, and face the new day.

She sat up, threw off the covers, kicked her legs out over the side of the bed, and stretched out to her phone to turn off the alarm. By keeping it on her desk a couple feet away, she was forced to pick herself up and reach out to turn it off. More activity meant less chance of more snoozing. At this point Kirsty made use of an efficient system, but many a missed breakfast and rushed shower paved that road. It was time to start her morning routine, but this time, after taking care of the alarm, she sat on the bed staring between her planted feet at the dorm's dark carpet.

Her head swam. It'd been hard waking up lately. It wasn't that Kirsty particularly loved sleeping or anything; she couldn't even remember her dream, if she had one. But nothing made her want to get up. Any hopes of a new beginning with the new semester changed halfway through the first week, when the typical introductory period gave way to business as usual. Already plans had been laid out for a research project that'd be taking place over the course of months, starting with extensive searching and ending with time at a real news outlet. Things would be just the same as before, unless they happened to be harder. Even though things had yet to really start, she already felt tired. Not interested, not driven, not excited...just lost, dazed. Yet she had to do something, so up she came.

After a brief period in the washroom, Kirsty emerged in proper clothes and with her hair tied up. She withdrew some grounds from a plastic bag with a plastic spoon and loaded her little coffee machine, indifferent to the use of last week's water in the tank, left sitting over the weekend. As it got to work she left her room and headed for the kitchen, where her clearly-marked box of cereal and bags of dried fruit waited for her. While she and her friend Annalynn often shared meals in here, the portly brunette did not return to the university the night before like Kirsty did, and there seemed to be no-one else around at the moment. Thus, a glum breakfast ensued in perfect quietude, with Kirsty staring out the window as she munched away. Cold, dreary, and liable to rain later. It would be an inhospitable day. Idly Kirsty wondered what her acquaintances would think if they saw her slumped here, leaning on her elbow over a bowl of soggy multi-grain, her half-closed eyes dull as a stormy sky.

When Kirsty left Student Accommodation a short time later, she bounced along with a sunny expression, treating anyone who looked her way to a smile. Today the 'fresh meat', as put by some, was arriving in bulk. A great many students from all walks of life, all bearing worries about costs, classes, friends, futures, or something, would be making their university debut. Not even all the faculty members who those students were paying would be extending them a warm welcome, so Kirsty made it her mission to try and ease as many minds as possible. Maybe they'd think her weird, but if she made even one heart feel welcome, it would be well worth it. “Heya! Hi! Welcome to Thames Edge!” She greeted them, either individually or in small groups. “Have a great day! Good morning! Enjoy yourself! Have a good one!” A familiar haircut caught her eye, and Kirsty waved. “Hey, Annie!”

Her target looked up, blue eyes scanning the crowd for the familiar voice. “Oh, hi!”

The girls met briefly, exchanging a hug. Annalynn looked to be in something of a hurry. “Good morning!” Kirsty said. “I'll see you in class, okay? You know where to go?”

Annalynn shook her head. “That's the problem! I lost my schedule, so I was gonna try and connect to the wifi and pull up my student page. Unless you know where to go? Can you tell me?”

“Of course!” Kirsty shared the room number and building name with her friend, and a moment later the two parted ways. Evidently Annalynn needed to do something else in her room, so Kirsty proceeded onward. Before she got another ten feet she got stopped by a pair of nervous-looking freshman who asked her, with almost comical trepidation, for directions. Once Kirsty sorted them out she got underway once more. Before lecture she needed to conduct a little more research, so she made for a common area. For the coming research project she needed to find five articles from different news outlets all covering the same topic, and since Annalynn had a trip over the weekend, Kirsty not only volunteered to help her but to find hers first. Of course, the lists could have no overlap, since that could arouse suspicion. That meant three more solid articles concerning homelessness. It'd been easy to find coverage on Brexit for Annalynn, but this topic was a bit harder and a lot sadder.

With a sigh Kirsty looked around to find a seat. She passed a guy who waved at her, and she waved back with a smile. He seemed more at home than the freshmen, so she figured he must be a second-year at least. “Hiya!” she said. “Hope you enjoyed your summer. Welcome back!” Then he was gone, headed somewhere else, and Kirsty found a place by the walkway where she could crack open her laptop and get searching.

World of Light

Tora & Poppi

Level 7 Tora (71/60) and Level 6 Poppi (16/60)
Location: Spiral Mountain, the Land of Adventure
Word Count: 998

The spirits, being few in number and high in quality, went quickly. Most chose to forge spiritbonds and make the snipers into strikers, their hosts choosing to preserve the spirits' abilities wholesale. While Euden was starting to consider fusion to be more useful -the same as Tora and Poppi- and the ability to deal great damage from long range was tempting, he felt it would be a bad idea to try any of these. It was too big a jump. Thinking logically, it wouldn't work, either. From what he knew each spirit only gave one power, or strength, or piece of equipment. Picking up a bow didn't make someone an archer, and even if someone gained an archer's skill, he or she would still need a bow. Plus, they might have special powers that made such feats possible. That meant two fusions minimum, and asking for so much -especially in keeping with what he'd been able to accomplish so far- did not merit further consideration.

Cuphead however, did not reach the same conclusion, or else he knew something Euden didn't. The odd little fellow waltzed right up, grabbed the spirit of the aptly-named, Sniper, and plugged it right into his chest. A brilliant multicolored light sprang into being, and his form grew obscure with radiance. Something inside the shining yellow-white shape shifted, molded like clay, and when the light faded there stood a Cuphead not altogether different, but not altogether the same.

For Cuphead

Notable spirit consumed:
The Sniper
The lip of Cuphead's head now sports the wide, cloth brim of a hat, which curls upward on the left side. His body now has a brown vest, which has a darker lower part with two pouches on the front and a lighter higher part. He also has a human-shaped nose, although it's still bright red and without texture, and a slight stubble pattern. Cuphead himself is also half a foot taller. Confers the Power Jarate, which allows him to use a new move regardless of which shot he has equipped. When using it, Cuphead lobs a jar full of mysterious yellow liquid. Any enemy coated in the liquid takes 35% more damage from all sources until it wears off (after 10 seconds or is cleaned off). It takes twenty seconds to be able to use Jarate again. Confers the Weakness Distance Inclined, which decreases the damage dealt by close-range attacks.

For Geralt

You have acquired:
Comet Shards x4
Fragments of matter grown from something that lost its life force to a freakish, formless hunger from beyond the stars. Harmless this far from the source, like a long maggot, its only danger is the faint suggestion of color lurking within, visible only in the dark, capable of breeding obsession in the unquiet mind. Valuable both monetarily and as a crafting ingredient, since refining it into a brew imparts to the partaker a whiff of alien hunger, allowing them to heal based on damage dealt

and:
Gold Piece x114
Money makes the world go 'round

and:
Watering Can
It sure can water

Some of the others came and went. First Donnie came back with interesting news, then Hat Kid with treasure, and finally Banjo and Kazooie themselves, looking to be in rather high spirits. Tora watched the others, waiting patiently, until he suddenly realized that everyone else seemed to be doing the exact same thing. Nobody was doing anything but delaying the inevitable, and Peach could read the room.

“Hey!” She shouted, getting everyone's attention. “On the other side of that bridge is the second of Galeem's champions. I was not present at the first battle, but I know that the tyrant extracted a terrible cost, and that this enemy is stronger still.” Her face grave, she looked between the gathered adventurers. “I know that your presence here means you are willing to face such a foe. Whatever your reasons, I am grateful, not just that this twisted world has heroes, but also that I may stand among you. So be careful in there. May we all return in one piece.” She closed her eyes for a moment, breathed deep, and hoisted her scatterboom “Now, let's kick some ass!”

Tora jumped to his little feet and clapped his wings together. “Good speech, Peach-Peachy! Tora pledge to be friends' shield, in thick and thin!” When Peach turned to lead the way, Tora and Poppi followed. Euden fell in alongside them, equal parts wary and excited. The procession exited the tower atop Spiral Mountain and those who couldn't fly proceeded across the rope bridge in single file. Bowser's weight caused some fluctuation in the bridge as he walked across it sideways, but the remaining hand-rope provided support. Beyond the mouth of the great Gruntilda statue lay a tunnel like the one that provided access to the valley in the first place, though not quite as much of a squeeze. As they advanced the heroes found more and more deliberate masonry in the walls and ceilings, as well as blazing sconces, all signifying some sort of transition. After a few hundred feet they found it: a darkly gleaming barrier of black and purple, rippling as though gelatinous in makeup. All eyes lay on its swirling mass, seeking to divine from its inscrutable mass its function and possible means of navigation.

While Peach paused a moment to think, Tora went ahead and moved to the front of the group, Mech Arms at the ready for protection. Poppi followed behind, utmost seriousness on her face as she prepared to protect her masterpon. Nobody knew quite what to do about this barrier, it seemed, so she stomped her foot into the floor hard to dislodge a shard of rock. With mechanical precision Poppi tossed it at the wall's surface, and like a pebble sinking into a pond the shard went straight through.

Peach nodded. “Alright. Let's go.”

Tora pushed into the barrier. His vision went wacky immediately, wobbling in a circle and obstructed by purple swirls. The Nopon steeled himself and pushed through, on and on, until he felt the chill of cool, dead air.

Startled, he saw nothing but blackness, and blinked to clear his eyes. The blackness remained, so he blinked again, still to no avail. After that he took a closer look, and quickly realized that wherever he was now, it appeared to be night time.

No...that wasn't quite right. That wasn't the vault of a night sky, twinkling with stars. It bore an unmistakable purplish hue, and a fizzy quality. It jittered and sputtered on a grand scale, like static on a television. A heaven of unadulterated noise.

Tora looked down. He stood on a floating island that reminded him of the Leftherian Archipelago, but made of porous, pale yellow stone. Poppi bumped into him from behind, reminded him of his retinue, so with a mumbled apology the Nopon stepped forward. He couldn't see any enemies, just more floating islands of various sizes at various elevations, spanning some distance between this island and one much, much larger one. From here, Tora could see a number of thick, black spires rising from that alien continent, just visible against the static sky. So too could he see other things...slender things of deep black coloration, almost imperceptible. The whole thing felt...weird. It was as though the atmosphere itself tingled him, palpable on his skin.

As his friends came through, emerging onto the island, Tora and Poppi approached and looked out over the edge. “As above, so below,” Poppi said, eyes wide. Nothing, as far as they could see, between the island and the void.

“A long way down,” Tora agreed, getting up to try and take his mind off the fall. Knowing that Poppi could save him made him a little less uneasy, but not totally. Instead he resumed looking over at the main island, peering at a black shape that chances to walk in front of a stone backdrop. He squinted, trying to make it out, and as he watched, it turned his way. A chill ran down Tora's spin. It could see him. It could feel his eyes.

And then it was in front of him, its hideous mouth agape.

The thing swung with spindly limbs, wreathed in distortion. Tora yelled in panic but blocked the strike, then moved his guard to defend against the next, coming in fast. He guarded twice more before getting his footing and counterattacking with a giant swing, only for the creature to warp backward out of the way, and then forward again in an instant while Tora overbalanced. Both its arms were high, already in position for an overhead smash. Poppi reached out in alarm. “Master-!”

A blazing sword carved through the air, cutting into the distorted thing. It released a guttural shriek and warped a few islands away, shaking in range. Euden slid to a stop and readied himself. “What happened?”

Tora's voice was shrill. “Not know! All Tora did was look at it, and-and-and...” The creature warped closer, clearly ready to attack once more.

Surprise! Whoever wishes can fight and potentially take out this foe. Wandering eyes may, however, beget reinforcements.

Joker

Location: Great Ton Pu Inn, Lumbridge, Land of Adventure
@Zoey Boey

It looked like the thief struck gold. Not only did Sakura rapidly prove herself to be both friendly and talkative, she also boasted just the information Joker sought. Things wouldn't be that easy, though; when it came time for the young lady to indicate a direction, she could only offer the vaguest gesticulation of a direction. Plus, if some of the Dead Zone heroes were to be believed, that contemptible place lay in the way, and a considerable way off at that. Did this Forbidden Kingdom sit somewhere on the other side? How did Sakura even walk here? Joker could only assume she went around it. Just how long did this girl wander the wilderness? That's some serious fortitude...I could really learn a thing or two about inner strength from her.

First, however, he needed to learn how to get to the Forbidden Kingdom Sakura spoke of, or at least how to get somewhere closer that also featured phone service. Unfortunately additional details did not appear to be forthcoming, since after a moment of melancholy about something or other she quickly changed the subject. She described in some detail a man she knew well, a martial artist judging by the specifics. While Joker hadn't taken the time to get familiar with the population of the quaint town he found himself in, that description fit someone of note he remembered seeing about.

“Yes, I've seen him in town. He often meditates under a tree on a hill across the river.”

While Joker could have pestered her for more information, he got the feeling such efforts wouldn't yield much. Sakura seemed helpful and earnest, so if she could share more, he guessed she would have. Instead he gave her a slight bow before returning to the corner where his friends awaited. Skull leaned forward, excited. “So? What's the scoop?”

“A place called the Forbidden Kingdom,” Joker replied. “Despite the name, it sounded like a normal city, but it's very far to the north. Farther than the Dead Zone”

Skull sank back into the couch, dejected. “No kiddin'?!” he said, a little too emphatic. “Jeez, it'd take weeks to get there, even if we did survive! And no Mona to drive us there. No way this place has a car, either.”

With an impassive face Joker looked toward the door. “We should ask around about transportation.”

Skull scratched his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, someone's gotta know somethin'. All those people who took the big-deal quest were from out of town too, right?”

Panther nodded. “Mhm. They're the talk of the place. Apparently they went and solved a bunch of quests yesterday, then fought some kind of boss last night. And a ton of people who look like they're from historical or fantasy games keep going on about the giant black metal wagon they ride around in without horses. Sounds like a truck or something, right?”

“I heard some guys whispering about one of them,” Skull said excitedly. “Real scary-lookin', with burning eyes or something. He didn't leave with the others, so maybe we can ask him. What do you think?”

Joker nodded. “Let's do it.”

The Phantom Thieves rose to their feet, with Skull in particular pumping his fist. “Alright, we got a plan! Let's get ourselves a car and get the band back together!”

Dead Zone

@EvilEdd1984

Nero noted the Slayer's assent and started to move, headed in the direction of that Qliphoth spire. “Uh huh. Well, let's get movin'. Time ticking now, after all.” He soon broke into a run, and V called upon Shadow to ferry him along, while Nadia merely sped up to match him. While not powered by demon blood like him, she had her own heritage to rely upon plus her obvious fitness and whatever it was that kept her alive in pieces, so Nero doubted she'd have any trouble keeping up. As for the Slayer, if he boasted enough stamina to slog through entire streets full of vicious fiends, he could surely manage a quick jog.

As one might expect from the Dead Zone, a few zombies inhabited the roads, but no hordes showed themselves. Just shambling individuals, gruesome but no threat to the small, elite squad rolling through. Most of them, Nero noted, appeared to be Flood-infected, and a number of infection forms skittered here and there across the concrete and asphalt. “A parasite that can take control of whatever body it roots in, huh?” he observed. “Bet that rubbed ol' Echidna the wrong way.” He kept the Blue Rose drawn, and blasted any infested flesh that got too close. With such action second nature to him, he could think about other things while making progress. A threat to humanity? Nero considered the Slayer's words as he moved. So, this viscera-spattered force of nature claimed to be fighting to protect people? The devil hunter didn't buy it. Everything about the way he killed demons said he didn't just like it. No, he loved it. Lived for it, even. Nero knew the type, or something similar at least in the form of his uncle Dante. Yet Dante never savored the gore of it, reveling in the slaughter, no; he lived for the fun of it, the thrill of stylish combat, flying and riding high as he made a spectacle of his foes. The fight wasn't just the means to the messy end, that being the payout. The fight itself was the payout.

Nero came upon a demonic rider, patrolling the edge of some sort of brink. He leaped up and delivered an all-out dropkick, sending the apparition flying into empty space. By the time he picked himself up and looked out over the edge, the demon had disappeared into the red foliage below. “Another one of these,” he sighed, remembering the sunken area he encountered the day before that sent his whole squad on a detour through the Charnel Lane. This canyon smack dab in the middle of the city block, maybe ripped open by the same sort of seismic activity that created the Sundered Avenue, featured a floor a couple hundred feet down awash in the subtly off-putting, red-leaf flora that surrounded the Ent's arena. On the left side was a construction area, and toward the right an office building had collapsed into the ravine. It'd be tough to get across, but this time he didn't have a van to watch.

He turned around to face the others. “Well, any ideas?”

Nadia got down on all fours and peered down over the edge. “It's not that far. We could drop down and work our way through the trees, then climb up the other side. With your hook, V's bird, and my sick airdashes, it'll be purr-fect.”

Shaking his head, Nero double-checked the air down there. “Nah, we'd be jumping straight into an ambush. Plus, I can see the damn pink gas that downed me when we fought the tree.”

With a huff, Nadia swished her tail. “Coulda just said that to start with.”

V pointed with the head of his cane toward the crane looming above the construction site. “We can use that. Someone with a little muscle can push it over.” His gaze fell on the creatures lingering in the site. There was a gang of blue-skinned demons with various weapons and armor milling around, working at some sort of task. Above them, sitting on the second store of some scaffolding by the crane, sat a very tired-looking woman with white hair, wearing a businesslike black suit. She watched the demons and occasionally shouted something when one came near, but otherwise said nothing.

“We should help her while we're at it,” Nadia put forward.

“We are on the clock,” Nero reminded her, but he did not disagree. He started toward the construction site, and the others followed in his footsteps. The Slayer, he guessed, wouldn't mind offing a few more demons. Sure seems to be more of 'em around here. “Let's get to it.”

World of Light

Joker

Location: Great Ton Pu Inn, Lumbridge, Land of Adventure
@Zoey Boey

The three sat in a rough circle in one corner of the foyer, their positions and postures clearly agitated despite their best attempts to relax. In their brief careers as the Phantom Thieves they had participated in countless meetings like this, whether for the purpose of discussing targets or planning infiltrations or just for getting together. It had been a long time since such a meeting constituted just these three though, a membership hearkening back to the early days of their cooperation. Even then, though, they never found themselves without a fourth member, whose earnestness formed the very basis of their organization. It was a sobering thought, and for a little while, none of them broke the heavy silence.

Eventually, however, Skull sighed and sprawled out over the sofa. The metallic spine on the back of his jacket propped him up a little, but he didn't seem to mind. “Man, this friggin' sucks. Everything got pulled right out from under us, right when things finally seemed to be going our way. It really pisses me off.”

Panther wrung her hands in frustration. “Right? We're totally adrift. This place is gigantic, there's no obvious way out, and who knows where everyone else is. We've got no clue what's going on or what to do.” She looked at the floor. “Never thought I'd miss Mona so much.”

Joker nodded, his expression dour. “I miss him too.”

“Yeah, I bet that furball would know what's up,” Skull admitted, shaking his head. After a moment he leaned forward, his face serious. “But seriously, I can't just sit around doin' nothin'. We've got to figure somethin' out.”

Straightening up, Joker put his hands on his knees. “Let's start with what we know.”

“Sure,” Panther said. “Let's see...the first thing I remember was the three of us appearing in that awful city. Seemed like something straight out of a zombie flick, so we holed up inside this art gallery.”

“Then that freaky camera monster came at us!” Skull growled. “It kept trying to freeze us, but we managed to keep saving each other until...it got both me and Panther at the same time. You ran to find help then, right?”

A couple seconds passed while Joker thought. “We had our Metaverse outfits from the start.”

Panther's eyebrows rose a touch. “That's right. At first we thought this place was Mementos, what with all the distortion, but the monsters and people we've seen aren't shadows.”

“Well, are we sure it ain't Mementos?” Skull asked. “It looks way different from the stuff we've gone through before, but it kinda feels the same. If this is the collector's conscience thing Mona talks about sometimes, it'd explain all the stuff from games.”

“Collective unconsciousness,” Joker corrected.

Scratching her head, Panther considered that. “I guess that would make sense. After all, Mementos is given form by society's thoughts, right? Maybe this is some kind of really deep level made from the thoughts of gamers. Or a gigantic palace...?”

Skull exhaled deeply. “Man, that'd be crazy. Super cool, but still crazy. Doesn't help our situation, though. What're we going to do about it?”

A pause reigned for a few seconds before Joker made his decision. “We need to reunite the Phantom Thieves.”

To that, his friends voice unanimous agreement. “Of course,” said Panther. “Given how big this place is, it'll be tough, but I'm sure we can think of something.”

“Uh huh. Man, if only this crappy village had phone service,” Skull complained. “We could just call 'em.” He held his phone in his hand, but the connection signal in the upper-right corner displayed no bars.

The sight of it sparked an idea, simple but nonetheless solid. “Let's go somewhere that does,” Joker suggested.

“Chasing smartphone signals? Sounds like a plan!” Panther laughed. “I was worried for a while there, but I guess no matter what happens to us, we're still the Phantom Thieves. We can solve this mystery together.”

At some point the door to the inn had opened, and it admitted a young woman with a face Skull just now recognized. Cheerful, with short brown hair, a too-small school uniform, and fighting gloves...he'd seen her before. He reached over and pushed Joker's shoulder repeatedly. “Hey, hey! She's from Street Fighter!” he whispered urgently. “She was on one of the machines at Gigolo Arcade. We ought to ask her.”

Panther's eyebrows furrowed. “What makes you think she'll be any help, Skull? Are you sure you don't just wanna chat up a girl?”

Waving a hand dismissively, the blond leaned back. “Pssh, no way! I just figured she wasn't from this town, is all.”

“Plus, you'd either fumble it, or give away our identities or something.”

“H-hey, what's that for?”

Joker glanced over at Sakura, who'd by now reached the reception counter and started talking to the burly, red-haired innkeep about accommodations. He didn't remember seeing her in the group that came back from the Dead Zone, and anyone who lived in Lumbridge wouldn't need lodging at an inn. As Skull and Panther continued to bicker, he rose from his seat and approached the girl from behind. As best he could guess, they shared about the same age, and though his outfit screamed 'thief' and he wore a mask, his natural charm should make it easy to approach her. He waited until they finished conversing about currency -trying to figure out the approximate value of yen compared to that of zenny, the town's main currency, it seemed like- before the thief made his move.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I'm Joker. You're from out of town, right? If you don't mind me asking, where did you come from? I'm trying to find some friends, and to do that I need to find an area with phone service, you see.”

Dead Zone

@EvilEdd1984

For a moment the trio watched as the Doom Slayer approached the draconian demoness to exact her punishment, but when he got to work they found themselves losing interest quickly. Nero averted his gaze when he started to pull, not exactly thrilled by his grisly torture of Echidna, even if she was a vicious little devil. When the screams came to a height, and he noticed Nadia looking profoundly uncomfortable, he reached up and laid a hand on the hilt of the Red Queen. “Okay guy, let's move this along, huh?” He swung in a clean arc, slicing through the remainder of Echidna's exposed neck and silencing her agonized wailing for good. Her body began to disintegrate, her skin and scales turning to ash, and in a few moments the head clutched in the Slayer's hands like a trophy followed suit.

With the general energetic mood thoroughly soured by the Slayer's excessive and disquieting enjoyment, the three didn't need to confirm with one another the idea of moving out. Before they could, however, the man rumbled out a question, and Nero shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. Saw her the same time you did. Could've been here since the giant disco ball made this joint.” Even in the perennial night and oppressive cloud cover of the Dead Zone, Galeem's radiance could be seen somewhere in the sky, a single glowing constant amid this nightmare realm.

His attention returned to the Slayer, however, when an electronic voice pointed out a demonic presence in him. Shit. Was that brutal bastard going to fight him? For a moment it looked like he would, and Nero inhaled sharply as his muscles tensed up. He recalled the slaughter the day before, the sight of the Slayer single-handedly destroying the horde that followed the survivors from the Police Station to Argent Tower. However, the Slayer did not attack. Nero remained on guard a moment longer, then relaxes as well.

V watched the entire situation from a young distance with Nadia beside him, whose worry did not abate so easily. So glanced between the two, anticipating a clash any moment, until V piped up. “It is good that your obvious hatred of demons didn't propel you down a foolish path. 'To generalize is to be an idiot'...not the most poetic of Blake's insights, but poignant nonetheless.”

Nero glances at the mysterious one. “Easy for you to say. You've got literal demons with you, while I'm just one-fourth, and he's clenching his fist at me.” He shook his head with a resigned sigh. “I'm never gonna get used to this.”

A short distance away, the man who Echidna had been pursuing approached the group gingerly. From this distance, his appearance could be made out more clearly. He wore a strange, one-hundred-percent artificial pale blue hazard suit, covered in various harnesses and equipment. On his chest was a dark capsule, and strapped in on his back was a shape that could only by an occupied body bag. Beneath all that, however, he appeared to be a normal guy. Between forty to fifty years old but in great shape, he had brown hair tied up in a short knot, a goatee, and a tired face. His expression said that he didn't want to be here, clear as day, but he came anyway. His eyes flitted between the devil hunter, the tattooed man, the blood-drenched marine, and the cat girl. “Uh...hey. You people seem, uh, kind of okay. Any chance you know where the center of this hell is?”

V pointed his cane toward the Qliphoth. “There. It stands at the center of this dead place.”

The stranger received an incredulous look from Nero. “What're you doing here, man? This is no place for ordinary people.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Sam looked at the Qliphoth. “I'm making a delivery.”

“A delivery?” Nadia laughed in disbelief. “What could you possibly be delivering that's worth clawing your way through this?”

Sam said nothing, but he didn't need to. Everyone could tell what lay inside that bag on his back. After a bit he said. Nadia put her hands on her hips. “Cat got your tongue? Why are you delivering a body?”

“This place is dangerous,” Sam said, an edge to his voice. “It's been condemned. Gonna put this body right in the middle, and when it goes necro, it'll come back as a BT. Then it'll grab a zombie or something and...poof. City's one big crater.”

Nero's eyebrows raised. He didn't get the details, but the ultimate meaning seemed clear. “Huh. Well, that's interesting. I agree the Dead Zone should basically be nuked, but there could be more survivors around.”

“If the pestilence is allowed to spread beyond the city, the death toll will continue to rise. The number of survivors remaining here surely pales in comparison,” V reasoned, a little too pragmatically.

Nadia said nothing, instead trying to wrap her head around both something capable of annihilating an entire city, and the consequences of doing so with living people still inside.

After some more thinking, Nero said, “Well, even by itself the Qliphoth and its harvesters are brutally efficient. They won't leave any survivors. That plus plagues, and the Flood...well, this place needs to go.” He looked at Sam questioningly. “How long until that stiff rots?”

Without so much as checking, he replied, “Twenty-three hours.”

Nero nodded. “Alright. We know some people who can evacuate survivors and stuff before this place goes away. Meanwhile, we'll take care of those Qliphoth roots and clear the way for 'em.”

“Ugh, it sucks that I need you guys,” Nadia complained.

“Good luck, pal,” Nero said, reaching to clap the guy on the shoulder. Sam shied away from his touch, however, and Nero smoothly gave it up. He glanced at the Doom Slayer. “Overenthusiastic or not, we could use your help. Up for more demon hunting? We're headed over there.” He pointed to the Qliphoth root that towered, tree-like, over a mall to the north.

Persona ~ The Beholder

Kirsty Ramaswamy

Name
Kirsty Ramaswamy

Gender
Female

Age
20, July 29th, 1999

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Nationality
Though born in the United Kingdom, Kirsty is three-fourths Indian

---

Appearance
With vivid skin, a full figure, lustrous white hair, and remarkable red eyes, Kirsty is not even close to as repulsive as her self-esteem tells her she is. One gets the impression she's too busy or modest to devote a lot of time to her appearance, and it can show at times, but her luck in the genetics department is undeniable and carries a lot of weight. Hers is a highly expressive face, reflecting her -typically sunny- mood without restraint, but her manner and body language suggest a fidgety restlessness, often on edge. It's hard for her to get comfortable. She wears rectangular glasses to correct her nearsightedness.

Her usual outfits manage to be nice enough without being especially remarkable, and the fashion-minded observer can often tell that she could be doing better. Her favorite garb is simply a black sweater with gray pants. Her casual wear consists of a snug gray hoodie, often paired with an unsightly hairband to keep her hair under control. In the World of Fog, she favors a bolder look. Her kindly features harden, and she replaced her typically demure outfit with a tougher, more run-and-tumble sort of formal.

Her shadow reflects Kirsty's inner vision, appearing as a high-society saint. This striking, confident appearance exhibits utmost self-glorification, signifying how far above others she thinks she is, and how much respect and success she believes she deserves.

Height
5'4”

Personality
Kirsty is first and foremost a perfectionist, and an altruistic one at that. Raised with an acute understanding of what is right and that it should be done at all costs, she attempts to live out ideal behavior. She does her best to be generous, trusting, conversational, kind, empathetic, always trying to avoid conflict and help out others, no matter the expense to herself. With almost no self-esteem of her own (in fact believing she is physically and mentally repugnant to most everyone around her) she is most happy when meeting (or better yet surpassing) the expectations of others. As a result she is self-sacrificing, self-effacing, and prone to cave into most anything. She believes that working hard to earning the respect of others is vital, and she is very unhappy when people are displeased with her. She'll accept criticism or punishment for mistakes without question, assured that it'll make her better in the long run—for what is life, but being better than yesterday? She tries to be determined, thorough, and very responsible, which all aid in this mission. In short, she's a perfect doormat, yet that's hardly earned her the respect she thought it would.

Of course, the extremes of her traits don't manifest all the time. Mostly, she's genuinely perky and pleasant, pretty straight-laced, and quite talkative. She's of average -or perhaps slightly below average- intelligence, but she works hard. It's tough for her to relax, but it's clear that she really enjoys any time she gets to do so, and whoever might want to keep her company while doing so. Aside from playing in her sister's band, going to different places to relax is her biggest hobby, and she enjoys being around other people. Mealtime, a period of relaxation in which to enjoy food, is particularly important to her, and missing meals tends to upset her. It's easy for her to come across to strangers as annoying, disingenuous, sycophantic, and that she's just trying to be better than everyone else.

As time has gone on, however, Kirsty has evidenced a few changes. There's a certain forced fragility to her smile. She seems tired, distracted, and even dull at times. It's not hard to find her nodding off, even when she's supposed to be at some task. One can get the sense that she's trying to hold back a lot of stress.

Kirsty's shadow, her other self, is a selfish, prideful, two-faced monster. Having forsaken the pretense of her ideals as goodness for goodness' sake, she exhibits a stunning apathy for other people and their struggles; in fact, the only thing she cares about from others is how respectable and virtuous they can make her look. A loud, crass, forceful, ultra-confident, and self-assertive reprobate, she's happy to turn on any parasites who don't appreciate her and shower her with gratitude.

---

Persona
Gregor Samsa
The story goes that one morning a normal everyday salesman, who worked all his days to provide for his family, woke up to find himself transformed into a hideous, verminous insect. Unable to so much as speak, he remained in his room, shunned and abused by most of his family as they were obliged to work for themselves. Only his sister cared for him, but she had her own life to lead, and could eventually stomach the parasite no longer. In the end, unable to live on as a burden to his family, and as a hideous thing hated by all, Gregor starved himself to death. After that, the sun shined on his family once more.

Arcana
Temperance

Skill
Curse & raw offense. Gregor unleashes dark magic, keeping it close as orbiting projectiles while throwing himself into his enemies wholesale, or releasing it in waves as he slams into walls or the ground. Though not berserk or crazed, his fighting style suggests self-destructiveness, a reckless indifference to his own condition as he endeavors to stamp out his foes as quickly as possible.

Equipment
Tri-blade Katar, a model weapon mimicking the deadly push-daggers utilized in India throughout its history, and a
industrial nailgun, which in the World of Fog gets a lot more launching power out of its compressed air

---

Education
Thames' Edge University Degree in Journalism, 2nd year

Biography
When Kirsty's family set out to raise her, they sought to raise her right. Her father, born and bred in Wales but landed in India as a business consultant, eventually returned to the United Kingdom with the woman that he loved. They enjoyed moderate success, sticking together through both highs and lows, and they were united in one belief: that the good life was earned, and that it would come to people in accordance to their hard work. They wanted more than a good life for their children, and for themselves in their old age. For that to happen in a challenging, unkind world, their kids would need to be raised just right. From an early age the twin sisters, Kirsty and Erin, were taught the very ideals of behavior. They learned to be kind and considerate, selfless and helpful, putting the needs of others above their own. They were taught to be perfect, as beautiful and flawless as diamonds in the rough, and their future seemed to glitter just as brightly.

Erin's dream was music. She longed to play on the grandest of stages to the adoration of the public, and her passion received her family's full support. Kirsty drank in the dream and joined her twin sister in its pursuit, finding even greater talent than Erin did. In high school, they formed a band with a childhood friend -Carter- and two friends from school. After classes they played together, working to make their dreams come true. As the years went by, however, the band never rose above mediocrity. It struggled to find a foothold and make an impact on the public, and the passion that infected Kirsty began to fade. She never dreamed of abandoning her sister and her friends, but she knew in her bones that the band couldn't make it, and she couldn't bear the thought of letting her parents down. Without Erin knowing, Kirsty changed courses and started down the road toward journalism. In doing so she gradually gained a new set of friends, school-minded folks oriented toward academic achievement and success. Thanks to her drive, wit, and willingness to help, she quickly made herself a vital member of the group, relied on by all. Kirsty soon found all her time split between school and band, and the two groups of friends she purposefully kept separate.

This divide persisted as she began at her university, and the pressure began to build. The band, whose members she knew and treasured for so long, needed her help. Their failure to gain popularity brought frustration, and the sentiment arose that Kirsty -their star member- wasn't pulling her weight anymore. When she tried to correct, however, Kirsty found resistance from her school friends, who needed her nigh-limitless support, goodwill, and help to keep on making good grades. Torn in two directions and unable to commit to either, Kirsty spent the rest of the school year fighting on both fronts, trying to please everyone. In the end, however, she pleased nobody, and she wore herself out doing it. Both groups of friends were suffering, but Kirsty, perennially tired and brain-fried, couldn't live both lives. No matter how hard she tried, her goals were getting farther out of reach, and her friends were slipping between her fingers. Gone was the perfect star whose light enriched all it shone upon; a liability had taken her place, and Kirsty's friends began to treat her accordingly. Their treatment hurt almost as badly as the feeling of failure that plagued her, and Kirsty neared her wit's end. She knew she wasn't happy, and she couldn't keep this up match longer. Was either road worth all this? What, she wondered, did she even want to do? Aimless and fraying, she reached out for purpose.

Affiliations

• Erin Ramaswamy – Kirsty's twin sister. Kindred spirits and the best of friends, they lived their whole lives with one another to depend upon. While Erin didn't have as the same musical touch as Kirsty, she was far more passionate about and dedicated to her craft, which placed her as the de-facto leader of the band. She believes that Kirsty is a vital element of the band, with her whole-hearted participation necessary for its success and her increasing inability to focus the primary factor in its lack of success. It's become increasingly clear that Kirsty's heart is not in it, and the two are growing apart.
• Shrishti Ramaswamy – Kirsty's mother. An ambitious, go-getter reporter working for the most prestigious publication in New Delhi, she met Kirsty's father while he worked as a business consultant in India, and the two eventually married before moving to the United kingdom. Wants nothing but the best for her children, and endeavored to raise them ideally.
• Harvey Ramaswamy – Kirsty's father. Born in Wales to an Welsh father and Indian mother, he grew up in the United Kingdom but maintained a strong connection to his mother's homeland. He eventually spent many years there himself for work. Wants nothing but the best for his children, and endeavored to raise them ideally.
• Drew Whittney – a childhood friend of both Kirsty and Erin. Something of a nerd and wallflower, he benefited greatly from the sisters' compassion in his earlier years. Eventually he joined their band as the keyboardist, and hopes to make it big alongside them. Owing to his childhood friendship he's got a crush on Kirsty, and nowadays oftentimes butters her up. Citing her naivety and good nature, he's appointed himself as her guardian, and for her protection lets her know what others think about her. While the news is invariably bad, he stands firm as her rock of support, who appreciates her despite all her 'faults'. As such, he keeps her close and steers her away from 'bad influences'.
• Annalynn Drinkwater – a good friend of Kirsty's, the closest to her among her school friends. She's funny and engaging, but while sharp-witted is also both lazy and pragmatic. In exchange for gratitude, praise, and validation, she's more than happy to let Kirsty do the bulk of her work for her. They spend a lot of free time together and enjoy each others' company.
• Paula Navarro – Kirsty's professor. Though always somewhat helpful, she's really stepped up to give Kirsty a hand as her studies started to suffer. She gives Kirsty advice and tips, and assistance with difficult problems, and all Kirsty needs to do in return is help out with some chores now and again. This includes a part-time 'job' at Ms. Navarro's house, where the professor insists Kirsty dons attire appropriate to her 'profession' and for some reason films her as she goes about it. For her part Kirsty doesn't know why, but she trusts in her professor fully.
• June Binner - the last of Kirsty's bandmates. The two are not particularly close, but they respect one another in the sense that coworkers do.

Relationships
N/A

Theme

Epithet Erased: Use Your Words

Haywood awaited instructions with his arms crossed, nodding sagaciously when Jessica said she wasn't here to make friends. “Just happens naturally, then. Amazing!” He started to get lost when she delved into King Arthur territory, wonder what she meant by 'grail'. Did she still think they'd be trying some heist now? As fun as that would be normally, Haywood could think of a few hundred things the castaways might be better served doing. Oh right, the kids. That nice lady from earlier seemed pretty frantic, so despite whatever animosity Jessica suggested lay between the two, it seemed like they'd be helping her get her family back. Big shot on the outside, softie on the inside, he noted. No way she's never met that soup guy all the minions're talking up.

The others chatted a bit, but Haywood's short attention span led him to zone out. Instead he looked over toward where the adults had split. He watched the big guy head into the ocean, and take off like a jet when he hit the water. Maybe he planned to catch something for people to eat. There were a lot of mouths to feed around here, but that also meant a lot of hands to help. Some of the others appeared to be doing something in the underbrush, though Haywood couldn't quite make out what. His attention snapped back when Jessica mentioned his name. With nothing really to add, he gave a brisk wave to the timid-looking guy and prepared for his leader to make a plan. When it came, it turned out to be a simple one, but effective. Scatter.

“Okay, let's get going then. Maybe we could use palm fronds to try and carry stuff we find.” He glanced around at the surroundings again, checking for options. The archipelago appeared to rest in a crude crescent shape, with the islands close enough together that the distance could be easily swum if not walked on sandbars. On this one, judging by the sun, the ocean lay to the east, and the foliage started on the west. He didn't know how far it extended, but searching the miniature jungle would be difficult no matter what. To the north, he could see a rocky area reaching a fair height. Rather than a singular mountain, it appeared to be a bunch of piled-up stone formations, which probably meant canyons, nooks, and crannies galore. The parents of the lost kids had gone into the jungle, and since Haywood figured he could leave the tougher task to the more experienced Banzai, he knew what to volunteer for.

“I'll comb the beach,” he announced. “Walk around the whole island, grab whatever I find. Maybe we'll get lucky.” No sooner had he said it then he began his mission, plodding north across the sand. After a few hundred feet, he stooped over a shapeless blue and red object, which he determined to be a beach bag. Sandals, a paperback, a watch, two towel cards, and both a bottle and stick of sunscreen. “Score!” With the bag in hand and thoughts of makeshift palm bags discarded, he continued on his trek.

Persona ~ The Beholder

Alright, here is my application. I wrote much of it in a daze last night, so please let me know if there's anything I can improve.

Self-appointed Monster

---

Name
Kirsty Ramaswamy

Gender
Female

Age
20, July 29th, 1999

Sexuality
Heterosexual

Nationality
Though born in the United Kingdom, Kirsty is three-fourths Indian

---

Appearance
With vivid skin, a full figure, lustrous white hair, and remarkable red eyes, Kirsty is not even close to as repulsive as her self-esteem tells her she is. One gets the impression she's too busy or modest to devote a lot of time to her appearance, and it can show at times, but her luck in the genetics department is undeniable and carries a lot of weight. Hers is a highly expressive face, reflecting her -typically sunny- mood without restraint, but her manner and body language suggest a fidgety restlessness, often on edge. It's hard for her to get comfortable. She wears rectangular glasses to correct her nearsightedness.

Her usual outfits manage to be nice enough without being especially remarkable, and the fashion-minded observer can often tell that she could be doing better. Her favorite garb is simply a black sweater with gray pants. Her casual wear consists of a snug gray hoodie, often paired with an unsightly hairband to keep her hair under control. In the World of Fog, she subconsciously favors a bolder look. Her kindly features harden, and she replaced her typically demure outfit with a tougher, more run-and-tumble sort of formal.

Height
5'4”

Personality
Kirsty is first and foremost a perfectionist, and an altruistic one at that. Raised with an acute understanding of what is right and that it should be done at all costs, she attempts to live out ideal behavior. She does her best to be generous, trusting, conversational, kind, empathetic, always trying to avoid conflict and help out others, no matter the expense to herself. With almost no self-esteem of her own (in fact believing she is physically and mentally repugnant to most everyone around her) she is most happy when meeting (or better yet surpassing) the expectations of others. As a result she is self-sacrificing, self-effacing, and prone to cave into most anything. She believes that working hard to earning the respect of others is vital, and she is very unhappy when people are displeased with her. She'll accept criticism or punishment for mistakes without question, assured that it'll make her better in the long run—for what is life, but being better than yesterday? She's smart, thorough, and very responsible, which all aid in this mission. In short, she's a perfect doormat, yet that's hardly earned her the respect she thought it would.

Of course, the extremes of her traits don't manifest all the time. Mostly, she's genuinely perky and pleasant, and quite talkative. It's tough for her to relax, but it's clear that she really enjoys any time she gets to do so, and whoever might want to keep her company while doing so. Aside from playing in her sister's band, going to different places to relax is her biggest hobby, and she enjoys being around other people. Mealtime, a period of relaxation in which to enjoy food, is particularly important to her, and missing meals tends to upset her. It's easy for her to come across to strangers as annoying, disingenuous, sycophantic, and that she's just trying to be better than everyone else.

As time has gone on, however, Kirsty has evidenced a few changes. There's a certain forced fragility to her smile. She seems tired, distracted, and even dull at times. It's not hard to find her nodding off, even when she's supposed to be at some task. One can get the sense that she's trying to hold back a lot of stress.

Kirsty's shadow, her other self, is not so restrained. Torn apart by pressure, she's a monster who forsook her ideals and betrayed the friends who relied on her so dearly. She is loud, crass, forceful, and self-assertive, someone who will not allow herself to be used, worn out, and thrown away like some tool.

---

Persona
Gregor Samsa
The story goes that one morning a normal everyday salesman, who worked all his days to provide for his family, woke up to find himself transformed into a hideous, verminous insect. Unable to so much as speak, he remained in his room, shunned and abused by most of his family as they were obliged to work for themselves. Only his sister cared for him, but she had her own life to lead, and could eventually stomach the parasite no longer. In the end, unable to live on as a burden to his family, and as a hideous thing hated by all, Gregor starved himself to death. After that, the sun shined on his family once more.

Arcana
Temperance

Skill
Curse & raw offense

Equipment
Tri-blade Katar
Beetle Bow

---

Education
Thames' Edge University Degree in Journalism

Biography
When Kirsty's family set out to raise her, they sought to raise her right. Her father, born and bred in Wales but landed in India as a business consultant, eventually returned to the United Kingdom with the woman that he loved. They enjoyed moderate success, sticking together through both highs and lows, and they were united in one belief: that the good life was earned, and that it would come to people in accordance to their hard work. They wanted more than a good life for their children, and for themselves in their old age. For that to happen in a challenging, unkind world, their kids would need to be raised just right. From an early age the twin sisters, Kirsty and Erin, were taught the very ideals of behavior. They learned to be kind and considerate, selfless and helpful, putting the needs of others above their own. They were taught to be perfect, as beautiful and flawless as diamonds in the rough, and their future seemed to glitter just as brightly.

Erin's dream was music. She longed to play on the grandest of stages to the adoration of the public, and her passion received her family's full support. Kirsty drank in the dream and joined her twin sister in its pursuit, finding even greater talent than Erin did. In high school, they formed a band with a childhood friend -Carter- and two friends from school. After classes they played together, working to make their dreams come true. As the years went by, however, the band never rose above mediocrity. It struggled to find a foothold and make an impact on the public, and the passion that infected Kirsty began to fade. She never dreamed of abandoning her sister and her friends, but she knew in her bones that the band couldn't make it, and she couldn't bear the thought of letting her parents down. Without Erin knowing, Kirsty changed courses and started down the road toward journalism. In doing so she gradually gained a new set of friends, school-minded folks oriented toward academic achievement and success. Thanks to her drive, wit, and willingness to help, she quickly made herself a vital member of the group, relied on by all. Kirsty soon found all her time split between school and band, and the two groups of friends she purposefully kept separate.

This divide persisted as she began at her university, and the pressure began to build. The band, whose members she knew and treasured for so long, needed her help. Their failure to gain popularity brought frustration, and the sentiment arose that Kirsty -their star member- wasn't pulling her weight anymore. When she tried to correct, however, Kirsty found resistance from her school friends, who needed her nigh-limitless support, goodwill, and help to keep on making good grades. Torn in two directions and unable to commit to either, Kirsty spent the rest of the school year fighting on both fronts, trying to please everyone. In the end, however, she pleased nobody, and she wore herself out doing it. Both groups of friends were suffering, but Kirsty, perennially tired and brain-fried, couldn't live both lives. No matter how hard she tried, her goals were getting farther out of reach, and her friends were slipping between her fingers. Gone was the perfect star whose light enriched all it shone upon; a liability had taken her place, and Kirsty's friends began to treat her accordingly. Their treatment hurt almost as badly as the feeling of failure that plagued her, and Kirsty neared her wit's end. She knew she wasn't happy, and she couldn't keep this up match longer. Was either road worth all this? What, she wondered, did she even want to do? Aimless and fraying, she reached out for purpose.

Affiliations

• Erin Ramaswamy – Kirsty's twin sister. Kindred spirits and the best of friends, they lived their whole lives with one another to depend upon. While Erin didn't have as the same musical touch as Kirsty, she was far more passionate about and dedicated to her craft, which placed her as the de-facto leader of the band. She believes that Kirsty is a vital element of the band, with her whole-hearted participation necessary for its success and her increasing inability to focus the primary factor in its lack of success. It's become increasingly clear that Kirsty's heart is not in it, and the two are growing apart.
• Shrishti Ramaswamy – Kirsty's mother. An ambitious, go-getter reporter working for the most prestigious publication in New Delhi, she met Kirsty's father while he worked as a business consultant in India, and the two eventually married before moving to the United kingdom. Wants nothing but the best for her children, and endeavored to raise them ideally.
• Harvey Ramaswamy – Kirsty's father. Born in Wales to an Welsh father and Indian mother, he grew up in the United Kingdom but maintained a strong connection to his mother's homeland. He eventually spent many years there himself for work. Wants nothing but the best for his children, and endeavored to raise them ideally.
• Drew Whittney – a childhood friend of both Kirsty and Erin. Something of a nerd and wallflower, he benefited greatly from the sisters' compassion in his earlier years. Eventually he joined their band as the keyboardist, and hopes to make it big alongside them. Owing to his childhood friendship he's got a crush on Kirsty, and nowadays oftentimes butters her up. Citing her naivety and good nature, he's appointed himself as her guardian, and for her protection lets her know what others think about her. While the news is invariably bad, he stands firm as her rock of support, who appreciates her despite all her 'faults'. As such, he keeps her close and steers her away from 'bad influences'.
• Annalynn Drinkwater – a good friend of Kirsty's, the closest to her among her school friends. She's funny and engaging, but while sharp-witted is also both lazy and pragmatic. In exchange for gratitude, praise, and validation, she's more than happy to let Kirsty do the bulk of her work for her. They spend a lot of free time together and enjoy each others' company.
• Paula Navarro – Kirsty's professor. Though always somewhat helpful, she's really stepped up to give Kirsty a hand as her studies started to suffer. She gives Kirsty advice and tips, and assistance with difficult problems, and all Kirsty needs to do in return is help out with some chores now and again. This includes a part-time 'job' at Ms. Navarro's house, where the professor insists Kirsty dons attire appropriate to her 'profession' and for some reason films her as she goes about it. For her part Kirsty doesn't know why, but she trusts in her professor fully.

Relationships
N/A

Theme

World of Light

Tora & Poppi

Level 6 Tora (59/60) and Level 6 Poppi (54/50)
Location: Spiral Mountain, the Land of Adventure
Word Count: 989

By the time Poppi extracted Tora's trophy from the moat around Spiral Mountain and revived him, the battle came to an abrupt, loud, and messy end. The constant rapport of gunfire throughout the skirmish went silent, and it left the entire area a little too quiet. While the valley appeared lush and lively, its bizarre location in the most dangerous and least explored part of the Land of Adventure made it uncannily lifeless. No birds sang, no bees hummed, and no fish disturbed the water's surface. Weird, Tora thought, but understandable—after all, the roiling, black-and-purple surface of another dimension or something loomed large over the valley.

Moving habitually by now, the heroes congregated at the top of Spiral Mountain, inside the tower sitting atop it Tora waddled at a leisurely pace to where Peach's presence denoted the meeting spot, looking a little deflated, all too happy to see the last of that horrible encounter. For the life of him he couldn't remember a more stressful fight, and considering some of the adventures Rex got his team into back home, that was saying something. After arriving the Nopon took a seat on the cool stone and watched everyone gathered in a loose circle. Linkle passed by the Nopon, and he waved, glad to see she escaped the snipers' fire. Then Linkle passed by him again, forcing a double take. “Meh?” A second glance made him honestly wonder how he made that mistake, though. The one he knew sported long hair, rabbit ears, green clothes, and a cheery demeanor, while the other was a boy in blue. He wondered if they might be siblings or something, but really Tora didn't care much about the guy.

Peach seemed to be taking stock of the assembled adventurers, and after a moment she nodded. “Including the Koopas up by the bridge, it looks like we're all accounted for. That was a serious challenge, but thanks to the rules, we didn't lose anyone despite taking a lot of hits.” The princess looked relieved, allowing herself a moment to relax before her new, tougher manner took over again.

Results!

Party: @Yankee's Ace Cadet, @Archmage MC's Blazermate & Sectonia, @DracoLunaris's Bowser, Bowser Jr, and Kamek, @ProPro's Courier 6, Cuphead, & Jak/Daxter, @Genon's Donovan Lee, [@MULTI__MEDIA_MAN]'s Geralt, @Dawnrider's Hat Kid, Fox & Banjo/Kazooie, @Gentlemanvaultboy's Linkle, Tora & Poppi
Encounter Reward: +10 EXP
Cameo Bonus: Sectonia
Cameo Reward: +3 EXP
Heroes should typically keep their focus on the battle, but sometimes areas contain hidden characters that make for a fun exchange. Sectonia gets this bonus for finding the Lord of Games

Her black eyes landed on Link, then on Fox and his bright green eyes. “Good to see you again, hero, and to see you restored, Fox. I may not be exactly who I once was, but I'm still Peach.” A few others greeted the young man, welcoming him into their ranks. For his part Link looked somewhat confused, but he remained as quiet as ever, stolidly taking everything in stride. After a moment Peach clapped her hands together and raised her voice. “So, that's another victory under our belts. We could only save one of them, but the others can still help us on our journey. Did we get all the spirits?”

The various collectors presented them. Within the floating rainbow moats lay images of the End, Quiet, the Sniper, Imani, and Hawkeye Gough. “Any takers?”

Tora's almond-shaped eyes locked onto the one with the scanty sniper inside. He waddled up to get a good look, then glanced around furtively between Peach, Blazermate, and Linkle. “Meh-meh-maybe, you should...um, it'd be a g-good idea if...?”

A metal hand descended from above and bopped the Nopon squarely on the noggin. “Meeh!” he shrank back, glaring at Poppi. “Bad Poppi! I-it just idea! We no know what happen of manlypon take lady spirit yet!”

The artificial blade stared at him with humorless eyes. “Ulterior motives suspected. Maybe masterpon should think more productively. You not yet take spirit yourself, after all.”

Tora looked back at the selection. “...That true. But...all of them human-shaped. What if Tora get human limbs with handsome round body? Or little Nopon limbs with human body?” He glanced worriedly at the Gough spirit. “And if Tora take that one, probably triple in size, meh! How can Tora be cute if big as Bow-Bow? No way!”

“Then we not need be here.” Poppi reached over and grabbed Tora by his overalls, then started to drag him back toward the wall, with Tora protesting and flailing uselessly the whole time. She bowed her head to Peach and the others apologetically. “Poppi is sorry about masterpon disruption.” They went just as Kamek forged a spiritbond with two of the spirits, Quiet being one of them.

The two sat back to let the others have at the plunder, with Tora looking out through the hole in the wall he made with his and Poppi's entrance earlier. He peered into the brilliant, picturesque blue of the water. With one hand he reached into a pocket for a snack, but to his disappointment found that he forgot to restock. He sighed, and said to his companion, “We not help much in that fight, and things only get harder from here, meh. Pretty soon we not get luxury of turning down strong spirits, even if make look horrible.”

He wasn't the only one frowning. Poppi considered it too. “Masterpon and Poppi not weak, but people in this world have many unexpected powers. We need to adapt. Be ready for any situation.”

Tora fussed at the cut left by Link's sword, thinking. After a couple seconds he took a deep, determined breath. “Okay, next time we both take spirit. Get stronger together, like Rex-Rex and Pyra.” He looked at his partner but ended up looking past her, out the tower door, across the bridge, and past the partially-destroy hag statue at the wall of unnatural purple beyond. “If there is next time. Next is boss fight, and this time friends get no continues,” he joked, dryly. “Not even have chance for relaxing swim first.” He went quiet to listen to the others not dealing with spirits as they talked about the road ahead. Apparently, some knew about what waited inside the other world thanks to prior experience. It sounded like things would get tricky. Tora redirected his attention to stretching, trying to psych himself up for the coming fight. Poppi joined in, doing various stretches despite the absolute lack of benefit they provided her.