Current
Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
4 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
8 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
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like
10 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized
1 yr ago
Tomorrow comes
Bio
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Hey there, and welcome. Whichever character you play is up to you; I could only say to pick the one you like the most. One thing I could say is that the Kindred Spirits you pick would be most useful as characters who haven't appeared yet but that you want to, since the only thing Kindred Spirits are for is ensuring that certain characters will appear at some point, so if they've already appeared, it's not much use.
Tora found the occupants of the honeypot on the uncommunicative side, so after a quick exchange of pleasantries he hauled himself back up with Poppi’s help. Once back in his regular sitting position, he noticed that there appeared to be a storm a-brewing up ahead. Clouds of sand dancing on the wind had been ever-present since entering the appropriately named Sandswept Sky, but this one left the rest behind. It stretched from the desert floor hundreds of feet into the air, less a cloud and more a wall, and it was really moving--it billowed and whirled with remarkable speed. And the tracks led right for it. “Uhh…”
As if on cue, shouts from Gnorbu belted out of the intercoms in the third and fourth train cars, though Tora and Poppi were near enough to the engine to hear the ‘pet outright. Drawn by his voice, they also saw for the first time that both the merchant and the engineer sported ropes tied around their middles. “Everyone brace yourselves!” Gnorbu called. “We’ve got an upswell ahead, right over Hollow Heights! Normally we tie the stuff we transport down, but today’s a special case, so hold onto something if you don’t want to fly! And believe me, you don’t wanna sail away over Hollow Heights! ...And despite my joking tone, I am deadly serious, so buckle up, for real!”
Though a little on the nervous side already, Tora chuckled. “Aha, well, at least we not need worry, right Poppi?”
His companion’s brows narrowed as she zoomed in on the storm ahead of them. “If wind really strong and sand thick, Poppi may not be able to find or catch if Masterpon go flying.”
Tora winced, his nervous laugh back in full force, and focused forward. The train bore down on the upswell with surprising speed, too much speed really; it seemed like he barely got any time to mentally prepare himself at all before the swirling chaos loomed right in front of him. He gulped and rolled into his stomach to wrap his wings around the honeypot, while Poppi -less than confident herself- grabbed the back of his overalls. Inexorable as death, all-devouring the wall of sand raced toward them. It swallowed the engine, then the second car, and the duo were inside.
A scream tore free from Tora’s throat as he hurled from the honeypot, ripped away by the sheer force of the wind. Poppi hurtled away right behind, her grip on Tora’s clothes locked tighter than a drum. Only after a moment did her processors kick in and she twisted to right herself, thrusters at full power against the overwhelming wind. Luckily she could see inside the storm just fine, with everything darker and yellower than normal but otherwise pretty much fully visible, and thanks to that she could orient herself toward the train and boost its way with everything she could muster. She fought the wind with every ounce of energy her Ether Furnace put out, and still for the few terrifying moments her hand stretched for the edge of the caboose it didn’t seem like she was going to make it. Her hair flapped like mad, her furnace burned, and something big missed her by centimeters as it flew by. Finally she managed to bring her fist around literally punch into the train car’s bronze piecrust, making a handhold she could lock into. Necronomicon had a similar idea, holding onto the third train car for dear life with all of her tentacles. Tora wailed the entire time, and only after securing herself did Poppi realize she’d been screaming too. When she actually looked around, she could scarcely blame Tora, either.
To either side of the tracks the ground had fallen away. The train was racing on a bridge of iron girders across an immense hole in the ground, with no bottom visible no matter how deep Poppi looked. To her surprise, the edge of the hole were not sheer cliffs, but stacks upon stacks of girders, struts, and columns holding up the ground, with sand piled high at the edges and spilling over in places like waterfalls. The supports extended into the darkness beneath the ground in every direction as far as she could see. ‘Hollow Heights’, she realized, truly did not do this place justice. From the infinite depths the freakish winds welled up, dancing like manic revellers and piping through the miles of rusted supports like some insane god. It took a little while for Tora to tire himself out and quiet down, but his wild heartbeat never slowed, and Poppi never unlocked her grip. She couldn’t feel any elation at having narrowly escaped death--not when she remembered that thing that nearly hit her earlier. Together with Necronomicon they sailed behind the train like a bizarre flag, and waited out the storm.
You have Acquired: Armor Plate x2 - A specially crafted plate of metal. Once attached to someone’s gear, all non-critical damage will be rerouted to it instead of the wearer, until the armor breaks. If not totally broken, its remaining durability can be added to with additional armor plates Toy Submarine - a replica submarine with no special qualities Swimming Trunks - a common piece of male swimwear, gray and purple Black Glasses - a held item that boosts the power of Dark-type moves by 20% Raging Fang x2 - a tooth permeated with deadly mana, and useful for crafting strong weapons
No sooner did the Harbor Demon Princess appear than the nearest couple dozen shipgirls turn their weapons her way, too galvanized by fear and instinct to realize that was just what their enemy wanted. A voice roared over the Navy communications using one of the Commander-level override lines. “Don’t forget the small ones!” whoever it was bellowed. “They’ll slaughter you up if you focus on the Demon!” Still, the new threat could not be brushed aside. Everyone who could turned their weapons’ the monsters way. In reply the Demon lifted up one of her oversized arms for use as a shield to protect her head and chest. Exploding shells and sprayed bullets made quick work of her sodden sleeve, but dealing damage to the arm itself presented a challenge. As solid as rock and without the propensity to chip, the hardened flesh of her arm soaked up all the punishment the Navy could dole out like it was nothing. Unfazed, her main cannon adjusted the last few degrees, and fired.
A couple hundred feet from the Jackdaw the ocean exploded as if a bomb had gone off just beneath the surface. With a grunt of annoyance the Harbor Princess started adjusting her aim. The waves from the giant shot rocked the Admiral’s boat, giving wings to the feet of the deckhands as they raised anchor and unfurled sail so that the ship might get in motion. The thunderous sound that rolled across the water roused Nadia from the stupor in which she clung to Blazermate’s dispenser like a hungry kitten to a pant leg, soaking up the healing she desperately needed as she shut everything else out. For a moment she was possessed by the fear that Shippy had been shot, but after determining that she was still alive, she let her breath out and pulled her claws out of the dispenser casing.
She stood, having forgotten about her missing piece, and promptly fell over. Just in time Link appeared and tossed the lost segment of her leg onto the deck. With a gasp of relief she seized the part she’d given up on and slapped it back into place. “Oh, thanks a million! And yeah, pretty much.” Now that she was healed she could was finally pulling back all the scattered blood she lost and not feeling quite so woozy. With her restored senses she could remind herself of the situation now facing the crew. Even though they were on the cusp of getting away, an immense new foe had shown herself, and heroes couldn’t exactly leave their allies for dead. Nadia watched Kamek and his clones cooperate to prepare a doozy of a spell, charging a radiant orb of light wreathed in colorful shapes. Though busy directing her seaplanes for defense, Ranger took a moment to send a warning of her radio for the Navy girls, already wary of getting too close to the Demon’s giant mitts, to clear the way for incoming ordnance.
With Sakura and Link doing their best to keep Abyssals away from the boat, and covering fire from both Shippy and the Atomos, the Koopas completed their sorcery to make manifest a brilliant ball of destruction. The boat rocked, and Nadia’s hair and cat ears blew back as the orb rocketed over the water. It annihilated the Abyssal seaplanes in its way and struck the Harbor Demon’s arm in an explosion of magical power. She roared in pain, and her guard with down, with good hand clutching the impact point on the other. Behind her the weapons platform went berserk and for a few moments fired wildly with every cannon at its disposal. The Navy took the chance to get some damage in, but all too soon the Harbor Demon composed herself once more and switched to her good arm hand for defense. Worse still, she registered the little ship and flying craft on the left side of the battle to be a threat.
With the cracked hand she seized another handful of Abyssals and hurled them across the bay. Nadia yowled and jumped behind a cannon to take potshots at the incoming monsters, but a couple dozen Abyssals splashed down both around and on the ship. One of the more fishlike things landed directly on her turret and lunged at her head, but she ejected the head just in time and her foe’s its teeth closed around nothing. Her hands flew up to catch her head, then slam it down between the Abyssal’s eyes. “Fore!” A quick backhand knocked the stunned critter into the drink, but when she saw the next monster flying in, she knew she couldn’t sit back down. “Whoa!” She dove to the side as a Wa-class Transport slammed down like a wrecking ball, bending one cannon barrel like a straw just before leaving a crater in the deck. Instantly the Abyssal’s pod opened wide to release a bevy of Imps, which on a symbolic level distressed Nadia immensely. “W-what the hell!?” If she could make a move before they spread out, though, she might be able to wipe out the whole problem in one go. Dramatic tension coursed through her; it was time for a show.
She flashed her claws and lunged forward as Blazermate’s turret lit the new enemies up. “Furserker Purrage!” Her limbs became a blur as she dealt slice after slice after, catching up entire packs of Imps and carrying them along in the combo. Not meant to take continuous damage like this, the Imps got torn to ribbons. It all culminated in a driving headbutt, her rigid ears made into stabbing points, that slammed the leftover Imps into the Wa-class and pushed the monster right to Shippy’s edge. For a moment the rotund Abyssal teetered on the edge, but just as it brought its cannons around Peach flew up behind it and fired off her scatterboom mid-flip. She landed with a flourish as the Wa-class burned and died behind her, but Nadia darted past to deal the enemy a parting kick anyway. As its half-dissolved bulk rolled into the water, the feral rounded on the princess. “You’re back! Thank goodness, I thought you weren’t gonna make it out there.”
“Me? You guys were getting messed up when I left.” She sidestepped as Destroyer thrown onto the deck let loose a couple wild shots while floundering, then hurried over to smash the thing with the butt of her gun. A To-class clambered up onto the deck only to see both ladies run toward it. Nadia went low and extended a double high kick while Peach threw herself at the monster rear-first. “Ha-CHA!” With a roar the Abyssal hurled away in a burst of weird hearts, its reckless shots bursting against the water. Peach straightened up and brushed a strand of loose hair into place. “Anyway. Everyone! I managed to get some spirits from the supply line. All Navy, rest their souls.” She opened a very pink pouch to reveal five spirits: Chicago, Northampton, Mikuma, Jamaica, and Trento. “If worst comes to worst, the rest of you can fuse and get out that way.” She frowned as Nadia’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”
As gingerly as she could in an active warzone, Nadia took the spirit of Northampton. “This girl...I saw her yesterday, at the game. She was on a date. She was happy.”
Peach averted her gaze to the Harbor Demon. She had tried to show some dignity, but what she saw made her eyes widen. There was no time to mourn. “Um, I’m sorry, but we’ve got a situation. That thing’s aiming at US NOW!”
She panicked as the Demon fired, and the shot hit the water so close to the ship that the resulting wave both drenched the ship and nearly capsized it. Blazermate’s turret and dispenser tumbled into the sea, with Nada right after them. She made a spur-of-the-moment decision and absorbed the shipgirl spirit like Peach before her, but transformed a moment after she hit the water and got wet anyway.
Notable Spirit Consumed: Northampton The host has gotten just a little less lanky, and her skin tone a little peachier. Her platinum-blonde hair is longer, covering one eye, streaked with plum purple, and blue on the inside. There’s a black bow in her hair, and her visible eye is bright green with a barely-visible slitted pupil. Her top no longer goes over the shoulder, relying on straps, and is a little lower cut with a white star on one side. She’s also wearing shiny red boots and gloves that extend up her limbs a ways, and has a Navy tattoo on her left thigh. The host is less upbeat and talkative. This spirit confers the Power Ship Shape, giving Nadia articulate rigging worn on her hips that takes the form of two arms Both arms have small cannon batteries at their extremities and a bladed branch at the midpoints. As long as the rigging is equipped, she can skate along the surface of water. This spirit also confers the Weakness Oil Cost, rendering all new powers and equipment moot if Nadia runs out of oil.
A monster nearly got its jaws around her before Nadia was on her feet. For a moment she marveled at being able to float on top of the water, but no longer. Shippy hadn’t capsized, but it had been way too close a call for comfort. Thanks to the Harbor Princess’s attention, there was a fresh crop of Abyssals preventing Shippy’s escape, and the next big shot might not miss. She skirted around to hide behind Shippy, dodging Abyssal fire easily. Nadia fired her cannons for the first time a marauding Destroyer and slid backward across the water from the recoil. When it caught up and jumped at her she instinctively blocked with her rigging before she plunged the other double blade into its eye. As it dissolved she couldn’t help but smile. Not only did this machinery respond like a part of her body, but its metal bit into the armor of the Abyssals way easier than her claws could. Unfortunately, her new boots and gloves covered a few separation points, and her hair made it hard to see from one eyes, so she quickly clawed them up while on the move. “Alright, back in the game.” With this, she could really do her part.
As Elliot settled down to relax, he spotted the tube-beast once again, floating around the lake with purpose. He elected not to bother it for the time being, but watching it made for an amusing distraction from bothersome sounds, since while the creature seemed to be hunting, its physiology gave it a tough time. Since speed was obviously not its forte, the animal remained as still as possible to wait for fish to blunder close. Neither particularly intelligent or observant, the fish swam into range now and again, but when the tube-beast lunged for them its bulbous shape suffered from water resistance. Many times it splashed down only to come up empty-handed, or empty-mouthed, as the case was. Nevertheless persistence won out in the end, and the ludicrous predator eventually snagged a weird-looking critter that resembled a living airbag. Sure enough, it let loose a pronounced fpppppptt when ruptured, revealing that not only did its bladder contain real air, but that the harmless-looking tube-beast had sharp teeth in there somewhere. It chowed down on the spot, clearly hungry but far from satisfied.
After a bit, Elliot’s wandering gaze picked up something inbound from the northern river. To his surprise, he discovered a much larger and more fearsome creature that appeared to be a blue and gold sea serpent. With struts forming the rough shape of a boat and actual oars jutting from each side, it made for a bizarre amalgamation of creature and craft, but the way it moved its head and vicious-looking claws prevented any doubt that it was alive. The tube-beast, still bobbing for a meal, remained oblivious as the ship-shaped serpent paddled closer and closer. When it finally noticed and let out a cry, it was far too late for the ponderous thing to get away, but instead of fleeing it swam closer. With noise somewhere between a croon and a growl the serpent bent down and nuzzled the smaller creature. After the two shared a moment, the parent banked sideways to reveal a cache of freshly dead fish stashed in its ‘hull’. The young one made a joyful sound and stuck its head through to start munching. Through it all, the two did not seem to react to Elliot’s presence, other than the parent turning a bright blue eye full of menace toward him for a moment. Just you try something, it seemed to dare him.
Provided he did not, and wasn’t satisfied with lying as still as possible in the sun, the Luma Pools still offered plenty to divert him. A rustle of branches nearby caught the attention of the Ukazeer and Ukabi both, and a moment later a funny-looking orangutan in overalls swung out into the open, one hand on his vine and the other on a bunch of bananas. After a final cautionary look behind him, the new arrival began to pull of bananas one at a time and eat them with gusto. He got so into it that he just about fell off his branch in fright when a outcropping in the lake blasted forth a noisy stream of superheated water. The pressure died down a moment later, but now that Elliot’s attention had been drawn to the unusual formation, he could see crystals shining on its outside.
Newly replenished by the delectably sanguine vintage within her now empty tincture, Sephiroth set out across the peaceful beach to reach higher ground. Judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was getting to be later in the morning, which bode ill for one unaccustomed to wasting time with long rest. Just how long had she been out? Still, whatever happened last night, and despite the pitiable state she’d woken up in, she felt never better at the moment. She felt as if she could jump a couple hundred feet, sprint a dozen miles, or wipe the floor with the entire snickering lot of those blasted courtiers in a single sitting--the Blood was just that good. Long after the last drop disappeared its sumptuous tang hung around, filling her with pep. And since there was no time to lose, she directed her newfound energies to finding a way to go.
As with most seasides, the coastal land steadily slopes upward the farther Sephiroth went. Her eyes lay on a stony prominence that overlooked Creature Beach, the twisted palm atop it a lone sentinel staring back at the buried leviathan below. Getting up there presented no challenge, but once she attained that height, Sephiroth found quite the view stretched out around her. In one direction lay the ocean blue, ashimmer in the sun’s brilliant rays. It went on as far as the eye could see, with just a few islands here and there breaking the mold. Many of the little islands seemed inhabited, with a couple quaint houses apiece. Far to the south, across a good few miles of mixed land and water thanks to undulated coastline, she could see the piers towers of Limsa Lominscuttle Town. In the lowlands toward the southeast she could see mists swirling among the hanging branches of cypresses, willows, and mangroves--the outermost edge of the nightmare realm she penetrated and escaped from just a scant few hours ago. Directly east, the land continued to rise, turning to grassland and scattered forests, then to mountains. More foliage awaited to the north, although red and pink a ways off suggested a different variety.
When not focused on the big picture, Sephiroth could spot a couple points of interest. Situated in a clearing to the northeast she found a rustic village of thatch rooves and masoned stone. Unlike with the island houses offshore, however, she could detect the movement of people between the structures. Farther up the beach she also happened to spot what appeared to be a sprawling temple amid the shoals. All in all, nothing that particularly jumped out as a quick route to power, but ample opportunities for someone willing to make the most of things.
After a good twenty minutes of arguing, the team finally reached a consensus that satisfied everyone--namely, the rather headstrong and insistent King Dedede, since the consensus was that everyone else would do the work of building a trade route and he would supervise. Steve voiced no objections, or anything else for that matter. Meanwhile both the fairness-minded Shovel Knight nor an unruly Knuckles made their disapproval known, but agreeing that leaving all the labor to Steve would be even more unfair, they grudgingly agreed to the braggadocious king’s plan. With their excavating prowess the dissenters would tame the land, and across it the angular craftsman would construct his road of packed dirt, bordered by stretches of fence and dotted by Steve’s peculiar torches, which never seemed to go out.
And so, with a broad smile on his beak the ponderous penguin waddled out from Lumbridge, crossing the bridge past the hill where Ryu so often meditated to the sprawling plains beyond. The afternoon sun shone down across miles and miles of rolling grassland, intermittent copses of trees, and the odd geological rarity. From here Dedede couldn’t catch so much as a glimpse of the settlement this route would eventually reach, but it was out there nonetheless, and for his part the king wanted to see it. After all, anywhere inhabited by civilized pigs surely boasted some good eating.
“Raight hea oughta work!” He stuck out his mitten and beckoned at his squad of Waddle Dees. One round minion separated himself from the crowd and handed his king a wooden post, which Dedede planted in the ground. With one smack from his mighty mallet he drove it in. Clonk! “Ahaha! Every journeh begins with a single step, and Ah decleah we’re beginnin’ raight hea!” When he laughed, his belly shook. “Ah say, hammerin’ them posts is heaps o’ fun. If Ah take care uh that, maybe yew belly-achers’ll quit lookin’ at me crossways, hm?” He glanced back at the others as if daring them to start complaining again. Steve, meanwhile, had already started tamping down the soil. Even one touch from his spade seemed able to treat a few cubic feet of ground at a time, which to Dedede wasn’t just magic, but incredibly useful. With him around, an impossibly arduous challenge suddenly seemed like a chore that could be done in time for dinner.
He took a few steps forward then held his waggling mitt out again. “C’mon, gimma anotha!”
One timid Waddle Dee stepped forward, but he wasn’t carrying anything. Dedede’s brow furrowed. “Whea’s the post, son?”
“That was the only one!” his underling quavered. “Steve is the only one who knows how to make them!”
The king rubbed his chin. “Is that right? Weall, Jus’ ask ‘im ‘ow! Steve mah boah, whah doncha show mah li’l Waddle Dees ‘ow t’do that craftin’ o’ yers? Ah kin ‘ave ‘em go ‘n collect whatever ya need, long as they got the tools.”
Nodding, the builder pulled a block out of his pocket and set it down. It expanded into a workbench, and the Waddle Dees gathered around to watch. Steve arranged pieces of wood to make sticks, then sticks and wood to make a pickaxe, a shovel, a wood axe, and even a set of three fences. How he was able to just change raw materials into finished products without hours of labor on each one Dedede had no idea, but it certainly impressed him. “Hot diggety, that’s one heckuva trick! Think ya got it nailed down, l’il Dees?”
His minions offered vague noises of reassurances that proved a little too effective. Satisfied, the king nodded officiously, and extended his mitten to the horizon. “Awlraighty then! Let’s hit the road, boahs!”
And they did.
Naturally the team rubbed up against some friction while trying to put their imperfect plan to work, the hours dragged on, they settled into a productive rhythm. Their process, shaky at first, got better with each leg of the trip across the plains. With his burrowing Knuckles scouted ahead to get both the lay of and the feel for the land, and he brought his reports of obstacles and resources back to Dedede. Though the others had worried -with reasonable cause for concern- that the King might just laze around and let everyone else do the work, he soon proved himself a capable foreman. Once given the details of the upcoming terrain, Dedede dispatched his Waddle Dees to gather wood, dirt, and stone with the tools made by Steve, while he clobbered any hostile wildlife that arose to threaten his minions. Shovel Knight lent a hand to defense and excavation, ensuring bountiful harvests. Some of the materials went to crafting replacements as the Dees’ axes, shovels, and picks broke, but the rest went to construction. With dizzying speed Steve laid down stretches of fence and the cobblestone road, although he left the dirt footpaths on either side to his chivalrous teammate’s shovel. And wherever the team paused to take a break, everyone pitched in to build a rest stop with back-to-back wooden benches beneath a shaded overhang.
Work continued over hill and dale, through wood and crag. The team cut a path across vast fields of vibrant flowers and billowing wheat. They ran into wild animals, cheeky implings, and even lonesome farmhouses. Dedede invariably elected to divert the roads to connect the scattered domiciles, even if they were a little out of the way, explaining that he wanted nothing more than to expand his kingdom even as he imagined the little homes being wiped away by the Land of Adventure’s regeneration. Still, the mercenaries made good progress all through the day and deep into the afternoon, until Knuckles ran back with some news.
Dedede looked up from his half-eaten apple, fetched from the leaves of a fallen tree, to see the red echidna on his way in a hurry. “Hm? Whah yew runnin’ like yer pants on fire theah, fella?”
In a cloud of dust Knuckles slid to a stop. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news, and I’ll save ya the trouble of askin’. Spotted the Hamlet up ahead, finally.”
“Oho, that is good news!” Shovel Knight roared. “My muscles haven’t ached like this in ages, and I’ve shoveled my way through entire questlines!”
Knuckles looked annoyed that he’d been interrupted. “Well, don’t kick your heels just yet, ‘cause before we reach the Hamlet we’ve got a real problem. A canyon that makes that ravine’s we’ve seen so far look like cracks in the sidewalk.”
“Canyon? Sidewalk? Boah, yew ain’t makin’ a lick-a sense,” Dedede said, waddling forward to see for himself. “If theah was somethin’ big like that in the way we woulda been told about it.” But sure enough, once the overgrown penguin crested the next hill with the others at his back, he beheld a rift in the ground of elephantine proportions.
A few moments later, Dedede stood on the edge of the precipice, his eyes about as wide as they could get. “What in tarnation?! It’s dang near bottomless!” He turned around to see Steve deep in thought. “But it ain’t nothin’ t’worry about, ‘cause yew kin just build stee-raight across, raight?”
The silent craftsman’s strange face did not convey emotion well, but his expression spoke of anything but certainty. Nevertheless he placed a workbench, pulled a heap of leftover stone from his inventory, and began to craft slabs, stairs, and walls. Taking what assurance he could get, Dedede gave a nod and clapped Steve on the shoulder. “Good man! Yew git busy, and we’ll pull the road ‘round this way.”
He left after ordering a number of his Waddle Dees to stick around and help out Steve. The others followed suit, less than convinced by a solution that seemed a little too good to be true. About twenty minutes later the road was almost connected, but a loud crack hastened the crew back to where Steve was working. When they arrived they were surprised to see the makings of a sturdy-looking stone brick bridge already well underway, courtesy of the newly-built furnaces beside its anchoring point, but their maker stood by with a somewhat glum expression. A quick exhibition revealed that as strong as the bridge looked, even one block farther out over the void would cause a portion of it to crumble away.
Dedede removed his hat to scratch his noggin. “Yeah, that tracks. Ain’t practical to jus’ keep on buildin’ straight over nothin’. Bridges gotta have support.” When Knuckles gave him an incredulous look that all but said yes, but how did you know that?, the King puffed himself up. “What? I gotta know a li’l architecture so I kin keep buildin’ up mah castle!” Although he looked pretty proud, he didn’t dilly-dally for long, but instead stepped out onto the bridge.
Shovel Knight reached out a cautionary hand, saying “Uh, sire? Won’t it buckle under thy...?” only to get cut off as Knuckles returned the favor from earlier, interrupting him with a sharp shh! Yet nothing happened as the king made his way out toward the edge and stood on the stone promontory.
As best he could judge it, the partially collapsed bridge reached about a third of the way across. He looked over his shoulder as best he could. “Hey, Steve! If Ah kin getcha ‘cross, think yew kin finish the bridge?” At first the builder looked doubtful, but an idea came to him that made him nod. Dedede turned back, stepped toward the edge, and jumped. He ignored the shouts of alarm from behind as he puffed himself up, literally this time, and hovered across the rest of the gap. After he landed on the canyon’s opposite side, he dusted himself off and made the return journey, enjoying the surprise of his teammates the whole time.
Knuckles ran up as he landed. “You can fly? That would have been good to know! All I can do is glide.”
“Thou canst glide?” Shovel Knight’s head jerked between the two of them. “I mayest only pogo jump with mine shovel!”
Steve jumped a short distance into the air, then looked at his feet, disconsolate.
“Buck up, mah boah!” Dedede encouraged him, pushing through the others. “‘Cause today’s yer lucky day. Ready t’fly?”
For a brief moment Steve bore an excited smile, but then Dedede casually sucked him up and took off. Shovel Knight and Knuckles looked between one another, the former shaking his head as the latter shrugged. A few moments later Dedede spat Steve back out on the other side, and though he seemed less than pleased, the craftsman got to work.
They didn’t have long to wait, because as it turned out Steve needed more materials than he carried on him, and only Dedede could bring him what his other teammates gathered. Suddenly the king found himself in the exhausting position of having to hover back and forth, back and forth. “This ain’t fair! This ain’t fair!” he wheezed, tears streaming from his eyes, as the others looked on.
“You can do it!” Knuckles grinned as he shouted his encouragement. “Just think of it as your responsibility as king! You must do what no-one else can!”
“Dadgummit!” Dedede gasped as he landed to drop a pile of stone. He wiped his brow and gulped in what air he could before taking off once more. “Guhh...heavy is the head that wears the crown!”
After what felt like an eternity the two halves of the bridge finally met in the middle. Dedede collapsed, chest heaving, as the others spanned the final section with planks of wood. His Waddle Dees gathered him up and carried him to the other side, and the others followed behind. “Not bad,” the echidna conceded while the penguin was semi-conscious. “If you’re willin’ to go the distance like that, maybe you’re half the king you say you are.” Even with their glorious leader indisposed, Shovel Knight and Knuckles knew break time was over, and alongside the now quite practiced Waddle Dees got back to work.
When Dedede roused himself, he realized he’d been laid to rest in the shade of a small copse uphill from the canyon. He sat up to see the tall, thin buildings of the Hamlet arrayed before him just ahead, the road almost complete. A whole host of pigs had gathered to welcome their visitors. Knuckles poked him in the ribs, and Dedede stood although his bones didn’t feel a thing. Shovel Knight chuckled as he watched him get up. “So, thou art finally awake? Good timing! We mayest make our heroic arrival to yonder Hamlet as one!”
“We’re heah then, ah we?” Dedede shouldered his mallet and smiled. “Let’s not keep ‘em waitin’!” Pausing only to brush the leaves from his royal cape, the king strutted out into the open with his team and procession of Waddle Dees right behind, waving to the joyful pigs. Steve finished up the last of the road as the citizens watched, and after the last cobblestone was laid, the Hamlet gave their saviors a warm welcome.
Quite unlike their compatriots in the Blue Team across the continent, the heroes situated in Sweet Canyon got the chance to awaken and prepare at their own pace. Their mission, of course, remained the same--as did its vital level of importance. A harsher or perhaps just more professional leader might have rounded them all up and marched them all out already, Joker knew, but even with such a heavy burden on their shoulders the team couldn’t afford to be all business all the time. That spelled out a one-way ticket to burnout, and if anything was to be slackened in this world, it couldn’t be one’s resolve.
So it was a little into the morning, about seven o’ clock, when the travelers finally massed in the center of Parnasse. Affected to various degrees by their sugary abodes, they went about their business alone or in small groups. Tora arrived alongside Sectonia, an odd pair if ever there was one, but neither looked ill at ease. Sporting a rather cheery disposition on display, Poppi stood by as Midna had her fill of the leftovers before the Thieves put them away. Questing eyes found a couple newcomers, including the genial Sly Cooper and the less-than-obliging Laharl. As neither obviously belonged here, Joker offered them the chance to join the merry bad for a while, at least until they got back on their feet. When Red arrived she preceded an eyebrow-raising procession. Fat Princess introduced herself with all the necessary pomp and circumstance, at her palanquin-bearers’ expense. For all the self-importance on display, however, the weighty woman brought with her not so much of a crumb of information or reward that the heroes didn’t already have.
While Tora didn’t anticipate that a land of cakes and candies might harbor a monarch, he found himself not in the least bit surprised by what she was like. The impression that this lady did nothing all day but eat and boss her poor subjects around seemed like a very real possibility. Her arrival did, at least, help get Yellow Team on its way. Tora and Poppi waved the chocolatey townsfolk goodbye as the heroes set off, guided two of the townsfolk. Ruki and Gnorbu evidently represented the sum total of Parnasse’s envoys to the outside world, with the former running the train between Sweet Canyon and the city that formed the heroes’ next destination: Al Mamoon. After a few rapid-fire questions at his fellow engineer meant to find out what a train actually was, Tora started looking forward to traveling on one a great deal. After all that running last night he sure wasn’t eager to repeat the feat in the heat of day!
Although according to the Princess it would be at least a day’s worth of gathering before the first shipment could be sent to Al Mamoon, and it was Gnorbu’s job to sell the sweets, he insisted on accompanying the group anyway as a guide. At a merry trot he led the saviors of Parnasse back the way they came the night before, toward the gingerbread railyard. “Over here!” he called, bringing the visitors over to the graham cracker door of a large shed. “We pulled the train in here so the machines wouldn’t smash it!” With a little muscle from Braum and Heavy Gnorbu revealed an altogether incredibly fitting locomotive. Proudly Gnorbu teased it from its housing and into the open, where everyone could marvel at its sweet splendor--and the fact that they’d be smelling desserts a while longer. “Hop on! We’ve got a long ride ahead of us!”
Tora took a moment to look back across Sweet Canyon. Never in his dreams could he have pictured such a fantastical place, but in the end, it fell far short of paradise. Killer machines, amber that could trap a hapless traveler forever, living treats that could turn you into food...and worse, that ever present cloying stickiness. The Nopon shuddered. “Don’t have tell Tora twice!”
Divided among the three different train cars, the heroes climbed aboard, and last-second arrangements were made. Necronomicon accepted Mona as a rider, as his black coat promised to catch another load of sweltering desert sun, and the other Phantom Thieves chose to forego their costumes or their everyday attire. Given the growth come about by her fusion, including her snake tail, Panther didn’t fit her unmodified clothes quite as well, but neither she nor Ryuji seemed to mind. Tora and Poppi opted to sit on top of the honeypot that formed part of the second train car, where they could leap into action at a moment’s notice. Blue Poison, thankful that this honey was fake for a change, cooped up inside, but there was still room for a few more in there. After a short time the whistle sounded. It was time to begin.
The train lurched to life, the heroes got underway, and Tora and Poppi quickly realized they needed to pull off some expert maneuvers to avoid the obstacles dangling in their path. Candy-cane branches, bulbous sugarplums, and clusters of bright red cherries all conspired to knock them from their high horse, but the duo held firm, and Tora even plucked himself a fruity souvenir. Before long the train chugged down a valley between two scrumptious pancake-stack hills and into the desert once more, which left Tora and Poppi with nothing to contend with but the desert wind whipping at their hair. And, of course, the heat. Neither of the dynamic duo missed it, but the one unable to utilize an onboard ice core to regulate his temperature enjoyed the hot surge decidedly less. “Eugh!” he groaned, disgusted. “Hopefully it not far to this Almoo place.”
Regardless, getting back out into the open was a nice change of pace, and being on a train was a blast. Traveling in the sheltered comfort of Vah Naboris was one thing, but here he could really feel the rush of the air For the first time he could really breathe deeply, although he had to turn against the wind to make sure he wasn’t huffing sand. Seeing nothing but syrup and sand for miles and miles did wonders to bring back that feeling of insignificance from before. Tora looked down to see stone supports beneath the tracks, which explained how the rails stayed up when the going got mucky. As the toothache-inducing archipelago fell further into the backdrop, the sand got more and more normal, until Tora realized that the group had reached a perfectly ordinary desert once more.
Still, the region wasn’t exactly featureless, as Poppi’s enhanced optics could attest. Off in one direction, she spotted strange lamp-shaped mountains. The couple of structures that surrounded them seemed man-made, but when she zoomed in on the distant figures running around them, ‘man-made’ no longer struck her as appropriate. Farther still the desert rose and turned grayish, becoming a sagging sprawl of buildings long since claimed by the scraping sands. In the other direction, toward the mountains that separated the Sandswept Sky from the Dead Zone, the terrain turned into an expanse of great, stony canyons.
Unfortunately for Tora, where the Yellow Team was right now was pretty boring. It wasn’t flat, and the train did cruise between great dunes, around valleys, and over chasms, but there was nothing really going on. After the first hour the thrill of riding a train had run its course, and he crawled over the honeypot’s front to look inside. “Hiya, meh! Everyone having good time in there?”
With his rather paranoid setup for determining Wiggler lethality laid down, Mirage soon found his attention captured by the sandy lakeside beach. His imagination propelled him to its surface, where its many piles hinted at the presence of unknown goodies just waiting to be uncovered. As his first attempt proved, not every gritty accumulation masked an object beneath, but the intrepid vacationer was not dissuaded. In short order he made his first lucky break, as in one fortuitous swipe uncovered the gleaming brazen circumference of a pirate doubloon! Though chipped it still shone with a fine luster, one that beckoned an eager mind to conjure up exhilarating stories of buried hoards and greedy buccaneers. Of course, his next attempt turned up a crab the size of a dinner plate. Less mean than it looked, the creature sidestepped for cover without even trying for a painful pinch, unless Mirage’s questing hand were to draw too near. Subsequent excavations revealed a smattering of loot; from the sand the hologrameer pulled a spotted egg, a bunch of shells, a fallen coconut, and even a fossilized skull of indisputable hardness.
His loot secured, could also take a look over at his experiment in progress to see the Wigglers back at it again, having gingerly wormed their snoots through the leaf litter to bask in the morning sun once again. Whether or not the trepidatious things would shove through a living being remained to be soon, but there were lots of other places to sunbathe.
Now that he could get a good look, the area west of the waterfall-fed lake appeared quite inviting, even if its sunbathing opportunities were limited. The lush forest continued in that direction, not so thick as to be overwhelming, but filled nonetheless with increasingly aquatic-looking life on land, from coral shrubs to the rare tall anemone among the pink-red fronds.
While I work on the rest of the sheet, how's this for my character's backstory? Five paragraphs was a little intimidating but I think I managed to get something together.
No natural disaster or unbeatable crisis drove humanity to seek worlds beyond their own. No ecological meltdown, no doomsday event, no world-wide war. Humanity still had enough space, for earth still featured a wealth of uninhabited areas. So when Earth's first intrepid few joined Tycho to venture beyond the planet's atmosphere and into space, they did not wonder or refuge among the stars, but wealth. As they found it and work out in space and on other worlds became more normal, colonies sprouted where the seeds of industry took root. Well before the Schon Cluster was a twinkle in Tycho's eye, the corporation bent the frigid outer planets and moons of the solar system to its will, and in one of the cities carved out of those inhospitable worlds Ruben Schuyler's story began.
Like his engineer father and pilot mother, Schuyler was someone who dared. His upbringing was no stranger to hardship, for the colonies lacked the millennia of civilized infrastructure accumulated on earth, but he was taught to meet the challenges that came his way with uncompromising strength of character. With a lot of toughness and a little luck, his family held their own. Their life working as a few of the boots on the ground for Tycho wasn't comfortable, but that dauntless engine of progress offered nothing if not opportunity. More a man of dexterity and fortitude than accounts, electronics, or equations, Ruben honed his skills in the risky fields of construction and then security.
For a time he even served with the Enforcers, but everyone knew that while Tycho still worked the old colonies, they had their sights elsewhere. Tycho had already begun its conquest of the Schon Cluster, sending industrialists and colonists alike, and something in Ruben drove him to long for the frontier all over again—the sense of adventure that was the very lifesblood of the colonies in his earlier years. Unable to secure transfer from his employers, Schuyler resigned and joined an up-and-coming PMC interested in the new frontier. Poised to become the second option for protection on Dumah, wherever Tycho and its cronies might be unwelcome, Hawkwood Solutions gave Schuyler the chance he needed to reach Dumah himself.
Of course, he spent a while as an escort guard for ships going to and from Dumah before setting foot on the place himself, but eventually Schuyler reached his destination. He, and indeed Hawkwood itself, arrived at an important time. Farther than ever from the threat of accountability, Tycho was ruthless in its utilization of the people to rake in the profit. As dissatisfaction with the corporation and rebellious sentiment grew, Hawkwood presented itself as the alternative, a helping hand by the people for the people, and for a time business was very good. Schuyler found for himself a place where he truly belonged, and friends he soon found he couldn't do without. Yet all too soon Tycho turned its eye on the lucky startup competing with their Enforcers, and it spared no expense making an example. Sabotage put an unbearable strain on Hawkwood's operations, and it quickly escalated into full-blown shootouts between Hawkwood troops and the Enforcers across the desert. When it came the killing blow was struck with dizzying swiftness. Hawkwood's troops, branded as undesirables, were left marooned on the frontier, with no funding, no backing, no security, and no escape. Schuyler was one of them, and like the rest found himself faced with a choice as to how to make the best of sorry circumstances. Then again, since his options were the execrable Raiders or the drifting Dusters, it wasn't really a choice at all.
With what retrofitted equipment he could scrounge up Schuyler set out to earn a living for himself as a Duster. Though many of his fellows danced around the lines that ought not be crossed, he set out to abide by the law, if not strictly uphold it. As he wandered across great distances, finding work here and there as a bodyguard or escort, he maintained a loose connections with his former comrades from Hawkwood, with whom he shared the bond of being abandoned together. It's been quite a while now, but as tensions mount across Dumah his old grudge bubbles to the surface, and his service rifle -long since cut down to the size of an inconspicuous pistol- yearns for what once was.
Hey, I am wondering if I could rejoin this roleplay with a different character (tho I might replay Roadhog assuming he isn't being used)?
Hey there! Although I'm not at all against people rejoining, you did disappear without notice the first time. Since then I've had some demoralizing trouble with rejoiners and I'd rather not have someone join if they're just going to leave again. So before you're readmitted, I'd like to know why you originally dropped, and what's different that will lead you to stay this time.
Well, I won't deny that Tora cares more about himself and Poppi than anyone else. However, a good rule of thumb is that if you want interactions to happen, you should be proactive about suggesting them, if not as the character than at least as the player. Can't just expect things to fall into your lap the way you want without coordinating.
For instance, now that its morning for Yellow, I was thinking of having Tora interact with someone. Archmage suggested Sectonia, and I figured that would be a good plan since those two haven't talked much. Poppi is also going to converse with someone but that hasn't been nailed down yet.
Eventually, Poppi realized that no matter how many times she stroked or gently rocked, such mundane actions wouldn’t cut it. Unfortunately, her other options fell just as short. Tora shrugged off pokes, jabs, and even tentative slaps, snoozing blissfully on. The only other method she could conceive of would be to awaken him with a favorite smell, like frying bacon or fresh-baked pancakes, but if the ambient aroma of this dessert archipelago didn’t do the trick she didn’t know what would. Finally, finding no solution save one, she gave a pronounced sigh and grasped the Nopon firmly by his shirt. “Enough snoozing, masterpon! Get UP!” So saying, she bodily hurled Tora across out of the bedroom and into the living room sofa in a spray of cookie crumbs and chocolatey chunks. Eyes wide with disbelief, she watched him flop to the ground amid the wreckage, still snoring. “Unbelievable…”
She knelt by him to get a better grasp in his condition. Naturally, the throw didn’t so much as bruise him, thanks in part to the relative softness of the strange town’s construction. But he was just filthy with the collective candy grime of a night spent in Parnasse. “How in the world is Poppi going to get Masterpon clean…?” she murmured, only for a lightbulb to go off in her head a moment later. She stood and switched, both to Poppi Alpha and to her water elemental core, then spun up her drill shield. With determination borne of the knowledge that she was doing the right thing she pushed aside her doubts and reached for the trigger. “Wakey wakey Masterpon! It time to face the day!”
A spiral blast of water gushed outward from the Drill Shield, waking him up instantly. He gave a burbling wail of protest as the torrent washed him right down the hall. After a few moments of bumping and banging the front door of the candy house burst open in a flood of water. Carried by the tide, a perfectly clean and very wet Tora rolled to a stop on the front porch. “Meeeeh…” he groaned, wiping at his face with his wings. Poppi circled around him, her best attempt to not laugh only mostly suppressed, and received an incoherent look. “Poppi…” His tone was one of very slight admonition. “Tora not order wake-up call!”
“Masterpon might have slept whole day if Poppi not intervene!” The Artificial Blade teased. Despite his rather rude awakening Tora seemed to be in good spirits, so she was too. “Was Masterpon having nice dream?”
Something dawned on Tora, and he closed his eyes and gave a contented sigh. “Oh, yes! Tora dreamed he was eating marshmallow as big as Poppi!”
“That not dream!” Poppi smiled. She disappeared into the house for a moment before she returned to join him on the porch, a clump of white sponge in her hand. “Tora had marshmallow for pillow.”
Quite unable to argue with her logic, Tora winced. “Mehhhhh...no wonder Tora feel so full.” His dark eyes bugged out. “Oh no! Is Tora marshmallow now!?”
Poppi shook her head. “Nope! Check arm!”
The Nopon looked at both arms in turn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. A moment passed before he realized that ‘nothing out of the ordinary’ was exactly what he should be looking for. “My arm! It back to normal! Weird donut arm wear off overnight!” He slumped over in relief, making a tong as his head hit Poppi’s chestplate. “Thank Architect. Now Tora can relax.”
His companion put her arm around him and squeezed. “Well, don’t fall asleep again. It about twenty minutes until we get going.”
“Aw, we leaving sweetyland already?” Tora stood up, shook himself dry, and glanced around. In the day Parnasse looked completely different, with all the little candy details here and there far easier to appreciate. In the night he couldn’t see all the color and cleverness of the place, like waffle-sided planters with gumdrop flowers beneath sugar-frosted window panes, and wound ropes of licorice as the posts for fudge fences topped by sprinkles. It made his mouth water all over again, but with a whole night’s worth of marshmallow in him he thought twice about eating anything else. With no particular desire to go stand in another circle with everyone and wait for a turn to talk, he turned his mind to his equipment, and the machines from the previous night. He pulled out his toolbox and shook it a few times to get the water off. “Good time to tinker with Mech Arms. Want see if possible to add slide rail without messing up missile pods.”
With a nod, Poppi changed to QT mode and manifested a pair of Mech Arms for him. “Poppi go see if friends need help. See soon!” She left without waiting for a farewell, as her Masterpon was already engrossed in his project.
In an unexpected turn of events, letting out all of her frustration through a couple hundred pounds of military-grade ballistics equipment turned out to be rather therapeutic. Short of getting sliced into pieces Nadia couldn’t remember a more intense feeling in her life than the bone-rattling thump-thump-thump of this cannon battery as she wasted monster after monster, emboldened by Heinrich’s passion and her weapon’s visceral kick into a berserk defiance of death. The battle high did not last however, and her adrenaline-fueled rampage tailed off when more reinforcements arrived.
First came Kamek and his cloned company, offering encouragement and a little extra firepower. Nadia certainly welcomed the news that the crew of the Atomos didn’t plan to leave her group to die, but couldn’t afford to focus on what he was doing with his minions at the expense of protecting her allies down below. Some Abyssals were already starting to get the idea that coming at the fallen heroes from the sides meant a free ride to the top of their protectors’ hit lists, and were coming from more creative angles. The five-Kamek band lent their varied magicks to the cause, giving the swimmers more room to breath from all directions. To Nadia’s delight one even seemed to be able to enchant her cannon, and the extra punch helped her nail the pesky Abyssal divers. When the Junior clones appeared she nearly turned her fire on them out of reflex, but put two and two together faster enough to prevent any trouble. Even if the extra help didn’t plan on manning the other cannons, they could keep the immediate premises Abyssal-free. Seeing actual, literal magic still dazzled Nadia to a degree, but now wasn’t the time to get distracted.
She spotted another familiar face riding the waves nearby as well, mostly when her uppercut carried her above deck level. Sakura stuck around to toss Brineybeard a little something special as well, which the badly injured captain accepted wholeheartedly. Really feeling her wounds now that her adrenaline was fading, Nadia could have gone for some healing herself, but since she couldn’t die the medics’ effort was probably better spent elsewhere. It was probably why the others left her alone on deck. It’s just pain, she told herself, trying to steady her breathing and distract herself with cannon fire. Just...pain!”
For all her pain, Nadia perked right up as she heard Link shout, signalling that he wasn’t just alive but offering sound advice. A moment later a couple shapes flew up from the water, big and fast enough to scare Nadia off her cannon with a yowl. Her flashing claws found nothing to sink into however, as she realized that somehow Blazermate and Frog had leaped from the water. Her tension eased as she flashed them a smile. “Oh hey, welcome aboard. You heard the man, c’mon!” A sudden noise behind her made her to one side, and an Abyssal bomber darted by. “Me-ow!” She scooped it up and sprang into the air, the explosive held like a football. One of the Dark Juniors had grabbed an Abyssal in some sort of pincer and was bopping it with something that looked suspiciously akin to a squeaky hammer. She hurled the bomb their way and darted over to her cannon once she landed. “Just aim at the monsters using the holdholds and hold down the red buttons!” she shouted at Frog, who struck her as someone from a time too ancient for weapons like these. Naturally, she was glad to provide an example.
You have Acquired: Maractite Armored Boots - Protective footwear of a rare metal from a secret undersea civilization, harder than steel that exhibits no water resistance nor equip burden while underwater
The fighting around Shippy continued, only a little less brutal for the heroes despite the addition of a few more compatriots. Abyssals continued to assault Shippy from every angle, but with Blazermate back to offset the damage with her healing and the various Blue Team members helping out, the situation was feeling a lot less hopeless. Even as Link, Sakura, and the others slugged it out down below, trading blows with their vicious enemy, Nadia found herself with a few much-needed moments to breath and assess before being forced to turn her cannon on the incoming bomber swarm. All in all, the Navy girls had been doing their thing, meeting the waves and waves of black-and-white monstrosities with undaunted courage, and as the battle moved closer and closer to the Abyssal strongholds Shippy remained at the thick of it. With Brineybeard at the help it looked like the vessel would be able to break free from the fight and head for the inlet soon. “I can’t believe we might actually make it…” Nadia breathed, worried that this statement too might evoke karmic retribution, before that cannon’s thump-thump-thump chased all conscious thought from her head.
Diminished by the saturation fire and dissuaded by both Blue Team’s artillery and the change in their ship, the bomber swarm dispersed to fall upon the battlefield in small groups. Getting dive-bombed still presented a constant threat, but not a disastrous one. And thanks to Geralt’s clever application of his resources, everyone could breathe a little easier knowing that the Helmaroc King would trouble them no more. He found the great bird’s mind simpler and easier to coerce with Axii than his pessimism led him to expect, and without too great a strain on his abilities could bend at least the creature’s flight path to his will.
Even if Shippy was gradually making her way toward the edge of the warzone, the Abyssals did not let up. The minutes felt like hours. Even with the added support Nadia needed to get up to fight off a boarder rather often, and when her cannon ran out of ammunition she limped to the next one. She found it harder and harder to hold down the triggers, let alone aim straight, as the jarring force of the cannons mounted up to numb her hands to all but a pervasive ache. She even felt her mind growing numb up until the point where a high-yield explosive shell struck her emplacement. Everything went dark for a moment, and she regained her senses in pieces scattered across the deck in time to see the cannon battery fall into the water with a splash. “Man..hohh, it’s getting hard...to pull myself together.” With no small amount of effort she reunited her various pieces, but came up one short. “Um, has anyone seen my left calf?” For a few frantic moments she crawled around on her hands and knees. She tried making the lost leg move, but couldn’t feel any solid objects. Just a cold wetness. “Oh, come on,” she groaned, leaning against the cabin.
Her eyes went to a chain explosion in the distance. Some of the shipgirls had reached the imposing seagates of Kwolok Harbor and were leaving their first impressions. Barely had the first few volleys gone off, however, before a calamitous wrenching sound resounded across the waters and the gates were thrown wide. The ensuing wave of water knocked the attacking shipgirls away. Through the opening came a gigantic hand, pale white, with curled black claws bigger than some of the Navy members, and then came an Abyssal that sent chills down Nadia’s spine.
Even kneeling on the ocean’s surface, the Harbor Demon towered at least twelve feet tall. A single horn protruded from her forehead, a truly ludicrous amount of voluminous white hair billowed from head all the way down to the water, like a ship’s sail. Her form-hugging outfit culminated in a pair of monstrous, bafflingly huge hands, which seemed to Nadia to be the perfect size for crushing moderately-sized ships with ease, but still more outlandish was the even more oversized weapons platform behind her. Its armored surface features gnashing maws, runways, and even cranes. Over them all loomed a single long cannon, by far the biggest out of all the weapons featured on the Black Bay so far.
“Who is that knocking on my door…?” Her voice was not a shout, but it echoed over the distance regardless. Her roving cannons let loose a withering barrage at the nearby sea, killing at least one shipgirl instantly. When she reached into the water with her enormous claw, it came up filled with squirming Abyssals. “Sink them. Sink them all!” She bared her teeth and hurled her minions forward. Over the chaos her eyes fell on the far-away Jackdaw, and when a look of recognition passed over her face, her main cannon started dialing in its aim.
The moment Mirage’s hologram even got close to the Wigglers, they shrank back into their burrows like stretched springs. Only after the decoy had been gone for a solid few moments did the bravest among them tentatively jut his nose from his hole, then start to rise back into the air. With varying degrees of caution the rest followed suit, until the whole colony was back where they started.
After a display like that, Mirage couldn’t justify any notions about the creatures being dangerous any longer. If he chose to get closer, he could get a better view at the little guys before they zipped back underground, too. While they looked like snakes from a distance, both in shape and size, a better inspection revealed that they had more in common with eels. Neither squamous nor rugose, they had smooth, rubbery skin, as well as rounded heads and eyes that protruded therein like a frog’s. When out and about they did nothing more than watch and wiggle, not moving even when the occasional bug bumbled by, which clarified preciously little about their behavior. Still, it could be concluded that they presented no obstacle of any sort on Mirage’s quest for relaxation.
No matter where he looked, it seemed like the intrepid adventurer was bound to find new wildlife. After descending to his current location from the higher waterfall cliff, he could get a better look at the lake and its contents. In addition to the tropical fish, some of which seemed to possess downright alien anatomies, he happened to catch a glimpse of a bizarre creature floating on the water. Though it looked like an inflatable toy, the way it moved and followed the flitting fish could mean nothing but that it was fully alive.
Still, the creatures of the Luma Pools hardly constituted all it had to offer. The lake offered sandy banks strewn with shells and conspicuous mounds, which -to an opportunist- might very well smack of hidden loot. There also seemed to be an odd plant nearby with balloon-like bulbs on its stems, stirred by breezes in such a way that suggested the bulbs really would float away if their anchor were so much as touched. Still, all the diversions in the world meant little to a man if he chose to recline in the shade instead.
A few moments of silence passed as the two ate, with Albedo quite unable to conjure up the gusto with which the Skullgirl downed her food. Instead his eyes lay on her, clouded with concern. Though behavioral studies and psychology lay well beyond the scope of his research, he didn’t fail to recognize turmoil when he saw it, and the conflict he sensed broiling inside his new friend just about alarmed him with its potency. The curious part of him yearned to learn just what troubled her, but at the same time he wondered if it was something that a social amateur could afford to trifle with. If nothing else, at least, he could listen to whatever she deigned to tell him, and when Linkle finished her bento, she had a lot to say.
With practiced hands he etched quick, concise notes into his book while giving Linkle his wholehearted attention. If he expected the poignant elements of her backstory to be in some far-off formative years, he quickly stood corrected. Today, it seemed, was quite the day for the poor girl sitting in front of him. She hit him with a number of revelations back to back, and when it was all over gave Albedo a chance to mull over the new information and cool it off to a workable state, like a bowl of piping-hot soup. His categorical mind raced to make sense of it all, but what he said first -after the bartender thanked Linkle for her compliment, that is- came from the heart.
“You have my deepest sympathies,” he told her. “To be deceived in such a manner, punished so harshly for your kindness...such soulless machination is nothing short of despicable.” He shook his head. “In Mondstadt, a somewhat obsessed fellow would occasionally describe his idol as ‘too good and too pure for this world.’ If there was ever a time in which such a description was warranted, it would be for you.” He looked back at Linkle, as solemn as ever, and a little sad too. “This world is an unfair one, and an unjust one. It hangs from unfair strings, and it dances to an unjust tune. But I am sure that the rules that define it can be exploited. Certain things are simpler than they should be, too connected, or connected in imperfect ways. Sewn together in a way that exposes the seams.” He poked her hand as if to make doubly sure she was still here. “If you truly died, you would be ash, but you’re not. This corruptive artifact seeks to control you, but if it was so easy, it would have done so already. And if that fate was inescapable, why would it take pains to convince you of such?” His piercing look swept across her, as if his gaze could flush out the Skull Heart from within her. “And in a rather petty manner too, from how you described it.”
After a moment he turned away, having realized he was starting to stare, and took a drink of water. “Anyway, I’m sure you don’t need me telling you to not give up. Heroes like you must learn that in preschool.”
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.<br><br>Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.</div>