Lugubrious

World of Light

Team Mao

Location: Al Mamoon Northeast - Rocket Inc.
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Mao’s @Potemking, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Joker, Fox, Necronomicon, Braum

Without wasting time on deliberation, Joker’s two allies engaged the Resistance fighters that threatened his plan to go after Nastasia, and as ever Mao did not hesitate to get his hands dirty. Protected by his shield, Braum was just about invincible from the front, but with only scattered pieces of that navy blue armor on his person he could not boast an impregnable defense from other angles. Being much, much smaller than his target, the little overlord had only so many options when it came to picking a target, so with sword in hand he struck at Braum’s calves. After all, human fragility means that a single slice through the right tendon would topple the big man where he stood. In the heat of the moment and poor light of the arena, however, Mao only realized that his opponent happened to be wearing greaves when a metallic clang rang out and the impact jarred his hands.

The failure of Mao’s surprise attack alerted Braum to his presence, and as the demon backpedaled to avoid a guaranteed counterattack, the Heart of the Freljord spun to deliver it. The weight of his enlarged shield meant he couldn’t lift it fast enough to strike normally with, so instead he left it standing there and came at Mao with a giant hook. He poured enough strength into the dizzying punch to scatter Mao’s teeth across the arena, but the blow came slow enough that the overlord could flee the danger zone and live to chew another day. A second later his longsword carved through the air once again, this time aimed for a more exposed part of Braum’s body. The hunk of scrap metal that slammed into Braum’s back, nearly doubling him over, gave Mao the perfect opportunity. But even then he couldn’t catch a break. His steel drew blood, but even with demonic might stopped short of bone, stymied by dense muscles, tough sinews, and formidable gristle. And even as pain twisted his face, Braum threw his diminutive opponent a manly smile. “Come now, friend! It’ll take a lot more than that!” He then grit his teeth, and with bulging muscles lifted his oversized shield high enough to slam it into the ground, creating a tremor strong enough to throw Mao off his feet if he didn’t jump. In a way, his efforts seemed almost more like showing off than a real attack. Not every human, it seemed, was made of tissue paper.

After hurling some debris into the fight between Braum and Mao, Jesse turned her attention to settling her score with Sven. He’d hindered her with an unwelcome transformation last time, but without a brainwashed defender getting in her way, the FBC director saw no reason to change her plan. This time, it went off without a hitch. Electricity flew far faster than glass vials, and the old alchemist couldn’t prevent Jesse’s reality-altering revolver engorged his already-sizeable midsection. After only a handful of shots his stubby legs could no longer support him, at which point his last ditch attempt to throw a potion at Jesse caused him to teeter forward onto his stomach, where he could to little but wheeze and wriggle, totally defeated. Even then the parautilitarian took no chances, recycling the metal she’d pelted Braum with to nudge her corpulent opponent further away from the fight.

Joker, meanwhile, had reached his target. Though he’d launched into a sprint the moment he’d landed after jumping off Braum, kicking up sand with each footstep, he slowed as he got closer. In his peripherals he caught sight of billowing mist as it filled the colosseum. Remembering Ciella’s attack from the conference room, he readied himself for any purple circles or blue charged shots, but other than that did not trouble himself too much. It wasn’t just caution that took the wind from his sails right now, either; rather, the sight of Nastasia all alone invoked a mixture of contempt and pity. Without any allies left, the little secretary was trying to pick up one of the alien rifles a Vandal left behind, but it was too heavy for her. She couldn’t so much as get it out of the sand, let alone wield it. Joker approached at a saunter with his hands in his pockets, watching without sympathy as Nastasia strained to raise the weapon. “Out of bodies to throw at us?” Unceremoniously Joker kicked the rifle from her hands to slide across the floor, and when his own hand came down it held his new revolver, leveled at his enemy’s head. It was empty, but she didn’t know that, and a gun offered a lot more intimidation than a knife. Sure enough, Nastasia fell flat on her rear, whimpering. Though pretty sure by now that she needed to get her hands on his head in order to brainwash him, Joker remained a good six feet away. “Game over. Release everyone you’ve enslaved and announce your surrender, or else.”

The next few moments, however, made it a challenge to keep his focus on Nastasia. As it turned out, despite Jesse’s best efforts, Sven’s part in the battle had yet to conclude. Sectonia, generally annoyed by her nemesis and frazzled by the explosion of his Chaos Lance after she’d blinked out of the way of a direct hit, decided to take a little revenge for being used against Ciella earlier by doing a little using of her own. Sven craned his neck upward in confusion as the giant wasp appeared before him, only to disappear again a moment later. Her departure, however, revealed a sight that made his eyes go wide in terror. A nebulous vortex of distorted space, like a malignant rift in reality itself, bore down upon him like a bowling ball careening toward a lone pin, but something in Sven’s gut told him that he wouldn’t be spared. Spittle flew from his mouth as he shrieked, his panicked voice pleading, “Shadow, stop! STOOOOOOOOP-!”

His cry for mercy gave way to a wordless howl of death, but only for a brief moment. The next he was gone. Destroyed. The Chaos Burst tore through the arena’s metal floor, leaving a hole in its wake. A moment later Shadow flew back out, totally ignorant of what happened, to engage Sectonia once again. “All you do is run!” he snarled, and after curling up he launched himself at his foe in another Spin Attack. This time he did not use Chaos Burst, but relied on his Spin Attack’s homing ability to chase Sectonia down wherever she fled and slam into her like a spiked wrecking ball.

Neither Shadow nor Sectonia got very far. After Ciella disappeared into her mist, Midna got busy trying to prevent whatever she had in store. Thanks to the healing received from Mona’s persona she could hustle over to the fight by the arena entrance without too much pain and enact a plan to reveal the Agito before she struck. The beat of her Twilit Vibrava’s wings swirled sand into the air, reminiscent of the storms she’d endured while fighting the Flygons the previous day, and Midna fanned the flames with some extra sand pulled from her own realm. Despite her front-row seat to Sven’s disturbing demise, she managed to whip up a bonafide sandstorm, purging Ciella’s mist from the bottom-most portion of the colosseum. With her machinations laid bare, the Agito couldn’t possibly launch her surprise attack.

It was a clever plan. But the wrong one.

Right on schedule, Ciella revealed herself, but not among the combatants at the bottom of the arena. Instead, she appeared at the top in a spinning flourish, then with wings fanned out and claws outstretched, began a quick charge. In front of her a gargantuan purple AoE appeared, covering the whole arena except for the areas beside and behind her. It filled much, much faster than the circular ones created by Hail of Arrows, almost fast enough that someone could blink and miss it. “Sink into the abyss of despair!” Ciella cried, and she fired.

A hundred arrows blasted forth, a veritable spike wall of water that stretched from floor to ceiling, flooded the arena in a single colossal wave. They pierced everything in their path, including support columns and the arena’s walls, creating so many holes that the entire structure groaned under the weight. Heroes and villains toppled end over end, a huge chunk of their collective vitality depleted in an instant.

After a few moments, a wounded cat reached out a plaintive paw. “Zorro...help him!”

As Mona’s Diarama went off, Joker coughed a mixture of blood and water, then got up to his forearms and knees. Soaked, sandy, and nearly skewered, he still lived, but his first thoughts were not of himself. “Fox? Fox!” Remembering his friend’s acid burns, he feared that not enough of Fox’s health remained for him to survive Ciella’s onslaught. His panicked gaze, however, landed on his friend’s outline, hurt but alive as well. “You made it!”

Breathing heavily, Fox nodded. “Before it struck, Mona managed to restore me.”

Joker’s eyes landed on the little thief. “Great job, bud. Seriously. Make sure you heal yourself up, too.”

“Sure thing,” Mona replied, wearing a smile despite his sorry state thanks to the rare praise.

The Phantom Thieves rose shakily, watching Ciella as she flew over. Assured of victory perhaps, she maintained her composure, even as that vicious spark still burned within her eyes. Nastasia saw her too, having staggered to her own feet ahead of most of the others and noticed the lack of barrier about her person. “My overshield…” Unprotected and alone, she looked around in fear until her gaze landed on a black-and-red hedgehog. “Uh, hello? Earth to Shadow? Save me already!”

Shadow grunted in anger, but he could not disobey. He teleported to Nastasia’s position, and the secretary jumped up to cling to him like a koala.

Gnashing her teeth, Ciella extended a claw. “No, you don’t!” A chunk of ice appeared above them, being one of the fastest attacks the Agito could get out, but even as it fell Shadow and Nastasia disappeared into distorted space. It devoured both ice above and floor below, and as Shadow propelled it forward from within Joker was forced to dive headlong out of the way, lest he share the same fate as Sven.

“Drat. I was so close…” As he got to his feet he realized that the arena itself was shaking dangerously. The damage already done to the support pillars and walls plus Ciella’s assault and Shadow’s destruction of the floor combined to make the whole place a lot less structurally sound. Entire sections of ground had been cut out by now, limiting the space non-fliers had to work with. How a hypothetical falling floor would interact with the Ciella’s Feral Shroud Joker couldn’t say, but he didn’t want to find out. “We’re on the clock.” A quick look around confirmed that Ciella seemed to be focused on the last of the Resistance, less a fight and more of a hit-and-run chase. It looked like Shadow couldn’t keep himself and his boss inside that black hole of his for long, although that hardly made up for him being able to pull all this crap in the first place. Whenever he emerged, disoriented by his blind charge, he invariably executed another Spin Attack at the nearest enemy that became another Chaos Burst on the way. That could be capitalized on. But how?

Joker’s assessment terminated on the spirit of Uncle Sven, floating above a section of uneaten ground. “There,” he said aloud. “Necro, tell me everything you say about that morph potion he used on us.”

After deflecting an incoming call with a muttered we’re kinda busy right now the Persona complied. “Based on my scans, it was a total physical change. No attack, no defense, none of my buffs, nothing. You were basically helpless. Are you thinking…”

“That’s a win condition,” Joker nodded. “If we can just tag them with that power, we can beat them.”

Necronomicon contacted him again. “Hate to rain on your parade, but there’s no guarantee that anyone’ll get that power from fusion. Even your luckiest Persona could end up with, I dunno, just that bouncy potion.”

Sighing, Joker readied his knife. Mona and Fox stood by his side. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way then.” The Thieves ran and jumped their way across the arena toward where Ciella and Shadow were going at it. This was the final stretch.

Tora and Poppi

Level 9 Tora (56/90) Level 9 Poppi (56/90) Level 4 Big Band (12/40)
Location: Al Mamoon Northwest - Obelisk Temple
Primrose’s @Yankee, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Yoshitsune and Sora’s @Rockin Strings
Word Count:

The news that the other half of Yellow Team was neither picking up nor returning Fox’s call was all that Tora and Poppi needed to ready them for another long run. When asked if the rest could help them out sans their resident space animal, they collectively stood behind Skull’s response. “Yeah, no sweat! We can go another couple rounds!” The boy smacked his fist into his palm. “You go on ahead while we mop up the rest of those Resistance jerks!”

“Take care now,” Panther added, addressing Fox, Band and Goldlewis together. “Make sure those goons don’t try any funny business. We’ll be back before you know it.”

Arms crossed, Azwel looked indignant. “Goons!? We’re right here, you know.”

Ignoring him, Tora jumped into the air, pumping his wing like a fist. “Meh-meh, let’s go!”

With the dutiful Es as their guide to the main base and Sora as extra firepower the Seekers ran off, leaving the stay-behinds, Grimleal, and Lautrec to sort things out. Throughout the proceedings the knight, freed from his jail cell down in the Khamoon dungeon only to be apprehended by the Grimleal as a precaution, had kept quiet, but after watching Yellow Team go he approached the remainder to explain his own situation and plead for his release. As it turned out, the Resistance had captured him while he was minding his own business and locked him up, waiting for their boss to come and hypnotize him. With Robin reluctantly backing him up, Lautrec received both a pardon and his release from Kan-Ra, and the embraced knight strode away with his brazen armor gleaming in the afternoon light.

---

It didn’t take much running for Tora, Poppi, Primrose, Yoshitsune, and the others to start feeling the fatigue accumulated by all their running and fighting since lunchtime. Luckily, Skull and Panther had a solution ready, which the dancer recognized as the same that rejuvenated them after their post-palace hospital visit. Al Mamoon, the fair desert city of anachronism, featured more than a few vending machines along its dusty streets, and the Phantom Thieves came to a stop in front of the first machine they found. “Okay, just a second,” Skull said, retrieving from his pockets the coins dropped by the shadows encountered in Madarame’s Museum of Vanity. “It ain’t just ‘cause I’m thirsty, either. This stuff’s got power in the Metaverse. It’ll perk ya right up, for real!” The machine rattled and dispensed an Udagawa Soda, which he pulled out before turning to Panther. “Whaddya want?”

“Uh, Earl Green for me.” Once the Thieves had their drinks, they stepped away from the machine to down them in a hurry. Sure enough, the beverages restored some of their health and spirit, replenishing enough stamina that they could fight at pretty much full strength again.

Though healthy as could be, Tora liked the sound of more energy, and stepped up to the machine next. He scoped out the choices while he scrounged up money. His options were Second Maid, a sugary lime juice, Manta, a salty-sweet juice cocktail, Earl Green, an energy drink based on tea, Ultimate Amazake, a liquid dessert of fermented rice, the banana-flavored Udagawa Soda, Miso Starfish (which appeared to be invertebrate brine in a can), and Dr. Salt NEO, a workout supplement. Predictably he snagged an Ultimate Amazake, which proved to be just a little too sweet for even his rather immature palate. Still, it did the job. He felt refreshed and ready to run.

Being relatively fresh himself Sora need not try anything, which was lucky since he had no money on him, but unless the rest wanted to lag behind they needed to slurp something down quickly. After that, they were on their way. Short and very quick, Es turned out to be difficult to follow, and holding back to make sure nobody got left behind didn’t fully solve the problem. With the work day drawing to a close the streets were crowded with people on their way home from their jobs, out shopping, or on the hunt for a place to eat. After a while of dodging and jostling Tora and Poppi nearly lost Es after a super-sized duo of futuristic wrestler and blue-collar alien separated them. “Not so fast!” Tora wheezed, running out of the way of a snake-in-a-mech. A musical fracas by the side of the street momentarily distracted him, but the Nopon managed to reorient himself on Es’s mop of blonde hair. “How much farther, meh!?”

“There,” Es deadpanned.

Not much farther ahead stood Rocket HQ, the office building that housed the Resistance’s primary headquarters. Judging by the skeleton crew of Grimleal acolytes, Yellow Team had come to the right place. Once through the open doors they came upon a scene of utter havoc, with acolytes here and there picking through an office space utterly demolished by breaking waves and wanton weapons fire. Laharl reclined in one of the few remaining office chairs, somewhere between sulking and relaxing. Tora ran over. “What you doing here?” he asked. “Where everyone else?”

Without a word the surly demon pointed in the direction of the stairs where he last saw Mao’s team. The rest was up to the Seekers.

Ms Fortune

Level 4 Nadia (97/40)
Location: The Maw
Blazermate's @Archmage MC, Bowser's @DracoLunaris, Ace Cadet's @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Mirage’s @Potemking, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 1634

Practically the moment Nadia went quiet, Mirage spoke up. He cut through the panic-fueled indecision and quickly got the situation back into perspective, noting the various options at hand before choosing one for himself. Rather than deliberate further, Geralt -looking a lot more mad than Nadia had seen him thus far- started barking orders. Nadia knew they had the right idea. There wasn’t time to stand around and think about what to do; they just needed to do something. With their numbers, they could afford to spread out and try some of everything. Ace seemed really out of sorts for some reason, appearing pretty much normal despite his accounts of changed arms, but the others leaped into action. The Koopa and Blazermate started attacking the door. Link, Geralt, and Mirage, armed with various weapons from nails to knives, fretted not about their own lives but forged onward into the unknown, squeezing themselves one after another inside the vent.

Nadia found herself envying their decisive selflessness, wishing she had it in her to be so noble. But self-deprecation could come later. Now was the time for heroics. “I’ll go around,” she announced. “Gonna claw those assholes’ eyes out!” As the boys and Mimikyu disappeared into the narrow passageway she turned tail, putting the locked door toward the south in her sights. Since Blazermate seemed more focused on Bowser and son’s attempt to beat through the door by force, Nadia decided to get the key. As she scampered toward the door she held her magnet up toward the central table, willing it to show the same power it revealed while fighting Moreau. Obligingly the key slid off the edge and into her waiting grasp. Though a little wet with blood for her taste she held tight long enough to chuck it at Kamek, who’d positioned himself right below the hanging padlock. A young koopa might not be able to do much, but he could grab and jump, and with all the energy his starving body could muster Kamek leaped upward to drive the key home. As he dangled he wrenched the key sideways, which both unlocked the mechanism with a satisfying click and slipped it free from the latch. He fell straight into Nadia’s arms as she ran below him, and with a swift kick the door swung inward. Though a small victory, the efficiency of the whole maneuver, having taken only a couple seconds, hyped her up. “Nice! One step at a time!”

Two steps into the next room Nadia’s feet flew out from under her, and she went down. A last-second toss spared Kamek a full-bodied splat onto the ground, hard enough to drive the wind from Nadia’s lungs. As she gasped the feral looked around, trying to figure out what happened. The ground was weirdly slick, and it quickly became apparent why.

This place appeared to be a washroom, its tiles soaked with soap suds that gathered into foamy drifts around the sinks piled impossibly high with dirty dishes. Still recovering from her fall, Nadia had a moment for an incredulous stare at the precarious pillars and pots, plates, and bowls, stacked way, way higher than even the tallest chef could reach. Her upward gaze brought her attention to a large porthole window above a white cupboard, although she couldn’t see anything beyond it but a deep, dark blue, occasionally interspersed with bubbles. Outside? she mused, having almost forgotten that this whole place was one mammoth submarine. Maybe her time on the docks of Little Innsmouth explained how she’d gotten used to the gentle heel of this place in the water. Her examination of the place also turned up two more doors to the east and west, with the westward one accompanied by what looked like a food delivery cart. If her spatial awareness served her well, that door led out into the hallway the crew originally came in through, the same one that bordered the dimly-lit cafeteria on one side. A big, smelly bucket labeled ‘scraps for Moreau’ on the other side of the door suggested that the kids weren’t the only ones served by that cart, either. Neither were the chefs the only ones at work. Throughout the washroom a crew of living forks and even a couple toque-wearing koopas seemed to be hard at work, so busy soaping and scrubbing that none gave more than a cursory glance at the intruders

Since none of them felt like getting in the way, Nadia focused instead on the other door. Going eastward, it granted access to a room directly south of the one the butchers fled to, which hopefully offered a north-facing door of its own. As she rose to her feet, however, Nadia realized that getting over there might be tricky. The soapy tiles might not warrant a second glance from those heavy-set chefs, but for a lightweight child they presented a real issue. Kamek might try asking the koopas for help, but time was of the essence, and Nadia planned to solve this problem herself. But how? Even if tiptoeing or dragging herself on her belly worked, the kitten knew, it would take more time than she had. Could she climb up onto the counters and go around the sinks, maybe? Or…

A lightbulb went off in Nadia’s head, and with a smile she knelt, then reached back to switch on her fan. The next moment she was sliding right across the floor like a hovercraft. In doing so she cut the trip down to just seconds. Ahead of her she could see light pouring both beneath the eastward door and through its keyhole, but rather than faceplant while trying to jump up and get at the knob with soapy hands the feral fixed her eyes on the slot on the side at head height. Dirty dishes came through to land on a small conveyor belt and be dumped into the nearby sink. Trying to jump would lead to another painful fall, but Nadia already had another great idea. Man, I’m on a roll! She shut off her fan, then while still sliding took it off and put it in front of her. After climbing on top she got boosted up to the conveyor. From there she could fetch her fan with her magnet, then push it through the dish slot before squeezing through herself. She nearly got stuck halfway through, no doubt thanks to all the food she’d gobbled up, but a little extra effort popped her through.

Nadia landed with a roll, realizing the moment she hit the ground that it wasn’t tile, but carpet, and a narrow stretch of carpet at that. She found herself on some sort of wide balcony, mostly wooden planks, that overlooked a long, two-story hallway running north to south. Speaking of north, Nadia looked that way to see no door leading into the kitchen where her friends had been taken, and smacked the carpet in anger. “Rats!”

A curious grunt sounded out from the other direction, drawing her attention instantly. Her eyes went wide as she spotted another hideous chef, twin to the first. Where his brother's face stretched wide, however, his mushed inward, forming a fishlike pucker beneath a mop of greasy hair. Having been leaning against and looking over the balcony in the southeast corner, a lit cigarette in hand, he looked over slowly enough that Nadia could skitter away just in time and hide behind a decorative vase. Her tail protruded, but the chef didn’t seem to notice. Instead he gave a heavy cough, put his cigarette out on the railing, and turned to take hold of a meal cart behind him, laden with a very large, bulbous sack. He pushed it into the room to the south and closed the door behind him.

That left just one option. Nadia scurried over to the balcony railing, where the carpet that extended in front of the washroom door proceeded over a bridge across the hallway, no doubt the way the second chef came in. As she crossed she spotted a dumbwaiter on the floor below, left side, right beneath the butchers’ kitchen. “Bingo!” It was currently open, with a few Volbonian waiters removing its contents to distribute throughout what Nadia just now realized must be a massive Japanese-themed restaurant. She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, I hate sushi.” Then again, what this place actually seemed to be serving revolted her a whole lot more. Furthermore, she recognized the decor--the same sort that she saw at the Maw’s entrance. The realization lit a fire inside her. We must be near the top! Once her friends were safe, they might actually be pretty close to escaping! She glanced back as the Runaway dropped down behind her, then looked back at the path ahead. Nadia just needed to get down there without breaking her ankles or alerting the staff. She couldn’t fit or break through the bars of the railing either, so that meant traversing the restaurant itself until she found a way down.

After crossing the bridge, however, she found that the trip might be a whole lot easier said than done. The moment she stepped inside the dining space she beheld a scene of breathtaking gluttony. Rows and rows of Guests, the same sort that waddled out of Tyl Regor’s sealab, sat hunched in booths and benches that creaked beneath their weight, shoveling food into their faces. Whenever one even got close to running out, a Volbonian came by with a ‘fresh’ platter to top off their never-ending feast. The sight robbed Nadia of her appetite, although she gulped in apprehension. It wasn’t hard to imagine one blindly snapping her up as she climbed by. Still, she had no choice. For the sake of her friends, the little feral sprinted onward.

---

After padlocking the door, Larry and his calloused accomplice hurriedly tied the hands (and in Bella’s case, the tail) of their new meat before hanging them by their ropes over the blazing cookfire that dominated one wall of the two-story kitchen they’d fled to. “No wiggling now!” Larry cautioned his catches. “Unless you wanna roast early!” Laughing, he sauntered off until a sudden uproar alerted the cooks to a concerted effort to batter down the door. “Huh?!” Taken by surprise, Larry motioned toward the stretch-faced chef. “C’mere, gimme a hand!” Together, the two dragged a laden cupboard in front of the door, blocking it so thoroughly as to crush and chance of smashing through. “Bahaha, no need to rush!” Larry cackled, patting the shelf. “Once we’re done with the appetizers, we’ll grab you for the main course!”

His laughing trailed off as a racket resounded up from the nearby stairs, and a moment later Chef Antoine appeared. “What the hell’s all this ruckus?” he seethed, wiping his fingers off on a bloody apron. “You both should be working, we’re barely keeping up as it is! The King of Cuisine does not disappoint!”

“Just some extra ingredients,” Larry leered, poking Bella in the tummy. As she whined, Sakura might realize for the first time that her friend looked both taller and heavier than she remembered. If she’d been a girl of four before, she now looked maybe six, or even seven.

Her attention shifted back to Antoine, who did not look pleased by Larry’s suggestion. “Lunatics, what use is meat like that? Woeful that it is, our clients care not for quality, but quantity! We must focus on greater portions!”

“Some King of Cuisine you are!” Larry shot back. “We oughta be proud of our craft!”

“Craft? What craft!? A back-alley bloodletter like you wouldn’t know quality meat if it hit you in the face!” Though smaller than the butcher, Antoine got right up in the man’s face. “And if you don’t finish your fillets right this instant, I’ll show you exactly what I mean!”

For a moment there was silence, save the crackle of the flames and the simmering of the cookpots. Then Larry turned away in a huff to head back to the giant fish he’d been cutting up for Fujimoto’s sushi, grumbling under his breath. Antoine glowered at the blocked door before addressing the stretch-faced chef. “Come with me downstairs. I need you to handle the pot roast.” The two departed, leaving Sakura and the Abyssals alone with Larry. In anger the butcher struck his cleaver against the bars of a cage filled with Aggrolls, Minimakis, and Noodlers, then grudgingly returned to his task.

---

The trip through the vents turned out to be more complicated than any of its crawlers would have liked. A few feet brought them to a T-junction right in front of the vent’s opposite end, but rather than a hatch it terminated in a grate, screwed on both very tight and from the outside. From there none of them could do much but take in the kitchen’s smells and the chefs’ argument, then turn to go down the other way. After another dozen feet it turned right and sloped downward at a forty-five degree angle, steep enough that it would be tricky not to fall straight down. At this point the sheer coldness of the metal also started to take a toll, hurting any exposed skin that came in contact with it. Nevertheless, the little heroes carried onward, making their way down to the main kitchen’s first floor. There the frontrunner found a miracle: a hatch rather than a grate. Through it he could emerge beneath a counter. They were in.

Immediately there was a problem. Beneath the counter lay five mousetraps, arrayed right around the vent. Three of them offered chunks of cheese, and two morsels of meat, but the cheese in particular provided a strong temptation thanks to its potent small and far less dubious origin. Unlike the food in the cafeteria, Mirage couldn’t just ignore this. It lay right in his path, demanding confrontation. Still, simple mousetraps would not be the end of the vent-goers’ story.

Once past them, the heroes had only the entirety of the kitchen’s first and second floors between them and their friends. On the first floor they spotted Antoine, stretch-face, and yet another chef hard at work, with the unfamiliar face single-mindedly focused on making sushi. Once he finished a batch and plated it, he pushed it into a dumbwaiter and closed it, causing the other side (presumably facing a restaurant of some kind) to open. The others worked on dishes of their own, including a jumbo-sized meaty lasagna and a huge pot roast. The roast featured a slab of meat far too large to be a child, but that did little to abate the newcomers’’ fury. They thought only of revenge and a way forward, but even that turned up a couple issues. Scattered around the place were Scalding Coffee Cups, superheated caffeine spirits that served double duty as chef stimulants and pest control. Though quite hot, they presented only a minor threat compared to the duo of Tempura Wizards who busied themselves using their magic to transform otherwise worthless scraps of food into tempura. It didn’t take a genius to intuit that the same might apply to any unwelcome guests. Still, with all of the stuff around there were a huge number of both places to hide and potential weapons to find, offering the heroes many ways to go about their business.

Old Mill

Location: Frozen Highlands - Alpine Skyline / Wildwood Glades
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy

Albedo paused and quietly turned to face Linkle as she approached the cats. Though she possessed only good intentions, she did not let them off the hook easily, but instead did her best to make them realize the foolishness of their actions. As she revealed to them the degree to which she could have destroyed them and went on to describe the brutality a less merciful victim like the Stranger might inflict, the fuzzy burglars listened with round eyes and mouths agape. Her final words of advice provoked a vigorous round of head-nodding, the young gang thoroughly intimidated and ready to mend their ways. When Linkle asked for Albedo’s pouch, which the alchemist himself actually forgot about in favor of his sketchbook, one cat returned the stolen coinpurse sheepishly before scampering off to hide behind her toy drum.

A moment later the Skullgirl joined Albedo on the edge of the cat burglars’ loft, and received from her new friend an impressed nod. “Well done,” he told her, his voice soft and flat as ever, but Linkle could tell that he meant it. With the situation handled the duo, delayed but not aggravated by the feeling of totally wasted time, could leave the old mill behind. Without a windglider, getting down wasn’t as easy as it could have been, but neither Albedo or Linkle had too much trouble. Plus, during the descent they divert more attention to picking up pons, and by the time the pair reached terra firma all their climbing had amassed them a decent stash. “That’s probably enough for another badge, if not two,” the alchemist observed. “If you want to ride back over to the village and get them, feel free.” He held his chin in his hand as he looked out through the crisp alpine air at the lively little mountain town. “I had considered sketching the village from afar anyway, so I would not mind.”

Whatever Linkle decided to do, the next step of their journey lay on the opposite end of the old mill’s plateau, and it began by taking hold of the flagline that plunged downward into the sea of clouds that blanketed the misty valley. As he descended, hanging once more for his life from a mere rope, Albedo could feel the air getting steadily warmer. It remained cool, but no longer freezing, and he could appreciate the change if not the manner in which he encountered it. Before too long the clouds swallowed him up, and for a few moments he could see nothing but pure, unadulterated white, in every direction.

Then came the color.

Click for music

Emerging from the whiteness in a puff of fog, Albedo descended into a valley of breathtaking splendor. Below him stretched a forest of bone-white trees and vivid scarlet leaves atop a blanket of gorgeous wildflowers, their petals crimson, azure, indigo, and violet. Mossy green boulders dotted the tough, golden taiga grass. The flagline came to a stop at a tree in the front yard of a quaint little hut covered in clovers and yellow flowers, its white-bearded dweller out front tending to his garden. The sight of Albedo, moving gingerly among the flowers as if afraid to dispel some beautiful illusion, made him chuckle. “G’day,” he said, holding up a paw in greeting as he leaned on his hoe like a staff. “Lovely bit o’ forest, eh? They call ‘em the Wildwoods. Some folks live here ‘n there but for the most part it’s pristine. Makes every day a blessin’.”

“Indeed.” Albedo looked around slowly, trying to take it all in. “No matter what my time in this world amounts to, I expect I won’t soon forget this.”

With a soft smile, the gopher held onto his stick. “I reckon you won’t.”

His mission momentarily forgotten, Albedo left it to Linkle to inquire about Freya.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Barney Rynsburger

As he barreled toward the demonic storks that stood between him and the grand courthouse doors, Barney found himself hoping that the shadow judge was right about one thing: that in life or death situations, even the most ordinary person could do amazing things. Although he couldn’t explain it, something had fired him up, reigniting that tiny bit of fight buried deep within him. Where just moments ago he stared death straight in the face, resigned to a messy end between the grisly canines of the Stygian monstrosity that Pondwater called Naberius, he now ran headlong into danger in the hopes of a new lease on life. Maybe it was the example of the courageous police girl, emerging suddenly from ominous, half-remembered dreams to confront the monstrosities with a wink and a smile. Maybe it was spite that fueled him, a semblance of the same anger that burned red-hot in the hearts of Nick and Jin against Pondwater’s callous philosophy. It might be adrenaline, or he really might be crazy. Barney couldn’t say. All he knew was that he was doing this. Dream or not, he was going to live.

The Shaxes both reacted once he got within range. Bright orange glyphs formed in the air around them, gathering some sort of power. Forced by the circumstances to just roll with it, Barney did not shy away until, one after another, both demons spread wide their wings to launch their offensives. Two blades of dark energy, awash in bubbling darkness, rose like shark fins from the ground and raced toward him. They ripped forward fast, but not so fast that Barney couldn’t realize that they traveled in perfectly straight lines. Rather than take his chances trying to withstand the accursed waves, the young man stepped off the line, allowing both to go right by. Without sacrificing any momentum he carried onward, barging right past the first Shax before it could strike back. It let out an horrid squawk of protest, but it was in the past, and Barney looked ahead to the doors. He tightened his arms around his head as he charged past the second shadow, dimly aware of movement in his peripherals. Nasty claws sliced into his tartan jacket and raked his sweater, but did not penetrate his thick clothing. A sudden pain lanced his upper forearm, right below the elbow, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The next moment Barney left the monster’s effective range, and another moment brought him right into the courthouse door with a slam.

As he began to push Barney realized an unexpected problem. It was heavy. “Aghhh, come on!” he growled through gritted teeth as he heaved his weight against it. He noticed nothing of the sort coming in, although considering the impact left in the concrete by the captain’s baton, the guards must have remarkable strength. Enough to make opening this door look easy. For Barney it proved difficult but, as the groan of the hinges announced, doable. Knowing the Shaxes could come at him any second, he shoved the grand door shoulder-first with all his strength. A crack of orange, dusky light appeared, and quickly the opening grew larger. With a grunt of triumphant exertion readied himself for a final push and to slip through.

At that moment, however, he heard yelling from behind him, and Barney couldn’t resist the impulse to look over his shoulder. What he saw took him by surprise, although in retrospect it shouldn’t have. The others had followed him. Even after Pondwater’s condemnation to all but certain death and being sandwiched between two groups of monsters, not a single one of them had slumped down, defeated. Instead, though battered and mentally taxed, they followed in Barney’s footsteps and made for the exit.

Though much smaller than Vincent, Dakota had risked his neck to help the older man out, the sight of which shot a pang of guilt through Barney for forgetting all about him in his rush to save his own skin, even though Vincent did get everyone else hurt. Together the pair hobbled straight for the storks that the bearded frontrunner left behind, with Vincent even mustering up a burst of energy to strike out at his attacker’s eye. With a screech the Shax flapped its wings, exposing its blood-red head and serpentine neck enough for the criminal to shove it away. Though it floated in the air under its own power the demon reeled, giving the duo an opportunity to get by. At the same time Mila clashed with the other one, whipping her leather jacket at the Shax while it lashed out with its rending beak and claws. Those same weapons snagged in the tough material, allowing Mila to stretch out its limbs as she swept by. With both shadows momentarily discombobulated Nick, Jin, and Caelum stormed through, avoiding direct confrontation. For a moment Barney feared that the schoolgirl, frozen by fear, would be lost, but Harriette risked her own life to take Alina by the hand and pull her along. She even bounced a couple shoes off the head of a Shax, delaying its recovery from Vincent’s push. No matter how they did it, in heeding the police girl’s words, the would-be defendants showed that they craved life just as much as Barney did.

In Barney’s moment of hesitation he noticed something else, as well. A growing pain in his arm drew his attention to the spot that the Shax pecked with its beak, prompting a double take. Thanks to his adrenaline it hurt a lot less than it looked like it ought to, but it turned out to be a pretty bad wound. Blood gushed from a stab wound at least an inch deep, and the sight of it shocked him. “Ahhh...ahhh!” He clapped a hand on top of it, squeezing down on his torn jacket to try and stop the flow, but his mind buzzed from more than pain. He’d already been hurt, but just now things were really starting to sink in. Dreams and nightmares could be vivid, but they were ultimately as ephemeral as the imagination that crafted them. Things were unclear, constantly shifting, and seldom held up under scrutiny. But Barney’s breathing was ragged. He could feel the warmth of his blood, taste the subtle smokiness of the air streaming in from outside, hear every panicked footfall as the others ran his way, and see the steely glimmer of the police girl’s needle as she struggled against the demons behind them. This was too real. Maybe it wasn’t reality, but despite all his self-assurances, and the fantastical spectacle around him, this couldn’t possibly be just a dream. Something in the very core of his being told him that lives were really on the line.

Barney glanced back at the others, hesitant, but only for a split second. He knew what he needed to do. Earlier he didn’t want to consider the possibility, but now he had no choice. It was past time he started actually doing the right thing. As Vincent and Dakota approached he redoubled his efforts, pushing the door not just wide enough for himself, but for the rest as well. Once he had it open he pitted his full weight against it to keep it that way, and with his hand waved the others through. “Come on, come on!” he urged them. Only once everyone made it did he let go, and as the door swung back he glanced one last time at the police girl. She stood alone, surrounded by monsters on every side, with the Pondwater’s shadow himself bearing down on her. A dark shape much larger than the judge himself loomed behind him, and though Barney could see little in the brief instant afforded to him, something about even that momentary glimpse made his skin crawl. Then the door slammed shut, sealing everyone else outside.

Once out in the open Barney quickly realized two things: that what seemed like an age had in reality been less than thirty seconds, and that everyone had a long, long way to go before they could even start considering themselves ‘safe’. The Penitentiary of Indictment stretched before the group in all its inhumane misery, crawling with awful activity, and this time Barney couldn’t keep it at a distance for long. He, and everyone else, would need to confront the Proving Grounds as they sought to take the police girl’s advice. Get your sorry butts outta here, she’d told them. But where to?

Not to the right. The massive ray from the colossal searchlight atop the courthouse had settled in that direction, and as Vincent’s ill-fated flight earlier revealed, there could be no escape once in its glaring glow. Barney half expected it to sweep right on top of him any second now, but for the moment there seemed to be something wrong. It twitched violently, flashing red in a manner that suggested some malfunction. From here Barney couldn’t see the beacon itself, but he remembered what the police girl said. “She took out his ‘Vision’...the light!” he realized. “He must not be able to track us. Not until he gets back up there, at least. We oughta get as far away from it as we can!”

Since the docks formed a dead end in front of them, going left seemed to be the only option. Barney jogged away from the courthouse doors, trying to find somewhere, anywhere that the group could go. He took in the row of buildings across the Proving Grounds, identifying a few odd buildings out scattered among the jailhouses. His eyes settled on the small cathedral that he spied earlier, before entering the courthouse, and it struck him once again how bizarre it was that a godforsaken place like this would have such a facility. Then again, if this place somehow symbolized the real world as he suspected, maybe it stood for the little chapel squared away in a corner of the Barclay campus? Either way, right now the escapees needed a safe place to hide away from the guards. How exactly they would actually leave this hellish plane and return to the real BWU was a bridge the group could cross when they came to it. Barney raised his voice to offer his suggestion only to get cut off.

“Freeze! Hold it right there!”

Speak of the devil! From the direction of the beacon’s flickering light, more bow-legged, hole-faced guards were running. Judging by their cattle prods, they’d been monitoring the prisoners before the alarm was raised. Luckily they didn’t seem too fast, but there was no more time for deliberation. “Crap!” Barney practically exploded. “Run for the hills!”

Though he hardly intended to be a leader, he led by example. Though his wounds made running hurt, Barney had stamina to spare after a day of mostly sitting around, and with surprising speed he took off toward the left. Maybe it was his bias showing, but he didn’t really have a lot of options, so he fixed his eyes on the cathedral. Something about it called to him, and given the circumstances trusting his instincts seemed as good a plan as any. After just a few seconds he left the pavilion and entered the Proving Grounds. All of a sudden he felt like he was in a corn field. The chain link fences, topped with barbed wire, rose higher than he did, and the moment he ran in between two pens the alerted guards were sure to lose sight of him.

Of course, that left the guards who roved between or kept watch over the inmates themselves. Though his nerves told him to run like the wind, Barney heard running footsteps ahead of him, slowed to a walk to avoid attracting too much attention. A line of chained inmates trundled along the same path directly to his left, so close he could touch them, but not one among their number acknowledged him in any way. They just marched onward, their helmets bowed, focused solely on the inmate directly ahead. As the footsteps grew louder, nearing an intersection between pens, Barney ducked into the prison line. He hid himself as best he could, with the fence on the left and two inmates on the right. Though terrified that his red tartan jacket would give him away, Barney watched two guards run right by him. Hopefully anyone behind him followed his example.

The prison line marched on. Through the fence to his left Barney could see the machines, rigorously pumping unknown, venomous-looking fluids into the ports on the prisoners’ helmets, whilst sucking money out through the front. It was revolting, and though the inmates suffered in silence, they did not do so without consequence. Here and there Barney spotted shriveled husks, human bodies somehow deflated in an almost cartoonish fashion, like balloons. Some had been thrown over strung ropes like towels, giving a whole new meaning to the phrase hung out to dry. So too were the racks of ownerless helmets. It occurred to Barney to grab one for a disguise, but there were none handy, and his prison line was just about to enter one of the pens under a watchful warden’s eye. He slipped out and made a run for it, keeping as low a profile as he could. He got into a cycle of waiting, watching, and dashing, able to distract himself from the wound on his arm for now. If he could keep this up without being spotted, he could reach the cathedral in just a couple minutes.

World of Light

Alrighty, thanks for sating my curiosity. Kiryu is accepted!

World of Light

@Potemking Unsurprisingly, another great sheet. Everything seems to be in order. What really does seem like an implausible inability to kill is a double-pronged sword and one I'm sure will be interesting. I just have one functional question. To what does extent does Kiryu's refusal to hit females apply? To just humans? Humanoids, like say, Zora? All females of all species? Just sentient species? What about machines like Blazermate? A weird question I know, but one that bears asking.

World of Light

Ms Fortune

Level 4 Nadia (97/40)
Location: The Maw
Blazermate's @Archmage MC, Bowser's @DracoLunaris, Geralt’s @Multi_Media_Man, Ace Cadet's @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Mirage’s @Potemking, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 1813

Easy, Nadia, the excitable feral told herself, taking one breath at a time. Though certifiably creepy, this chef wasn’t nearly as bad as Moreau or Bongo Bongo. Getting around him might be tricky for a cutlet-sized child, but she had food in her belly and fire in her heart. I can do this. “We can do this,” she said aloud, correcting herself in a whisper strong enough for her gathered allies to hear but much too weak to reach the chopper’s ears. With renewed vigor she could afford to wear her most confident smile while she not just broke but totally annihilated the tension. “The steaks are high, and we don’t wanna risk a meat ‘n greet, but we’re stroganoff to make it through.”

Rather than waste time making her allies reconsider the value of their lives with terrible puns, Sakura got right down to business. The savvy girl shushed Nadia with a finger to her lips, then emerged from hiding with a plan of attack in mind. Spurred on by both the restlessness of hunger and an even stronger desire to contribute, she maneuvered across the room in search of a distraction. Nobody really knew what the plan was, if one even existed, but it was clearly time to hustle. After the chef proved to be pretty much fixated on his work, the rest of the children fanned out even more, crouch-walking to various hiding spots to avoid the telltale slap of shoes and soles against the cold tile. Assuming that the gaggle of kids would be heading for the unlocked door, rather than try and tear the chef away from his butchery long enough for someone to grab the key, Nadia circled around behind him going north. She almost scurried over the meat parcels piled up in the northwest corner, but realized that their paper wrappings would crinkle if touched, and settled for padding with almost cartoonish delicacy across the open floor.

Keen-eyed as ever, Nadia spotted Sakura as the brunette hefted a jar, and in a flash she realized what was about to happen. Using drawer handles like a ladder she rushed up onto a nearby countertop, then dove into a (mercifully empty) pot. Then a terribly loud crash shattered the peaceful quiet of the kitchen, and a sound erupted from the chef that froze Nadia stiff. It was loud, sudden, like the blast of an elephant, an abrupt yet windy scream that sounded almost as afraid as it did angry. With that outburst the chef spun around, cleaver in hand, and slouched forward toward the source of the noise. As they felt the ground hudder with every footfall the children scattered through the kitchen shrank into their hiding spots in fear. A moment later the chef came to a stop in front of the smashed jar, looming over the wreckage. In apparent frustration. He scanned the counter, looking back and forth. After a moment he seemed to note the shadowy space beneath the countertop, just behind the debris, and with a grunt he knelt down to extend a pudgy arm and feel around down there for any unwelcome visitors. When his search turned up nothing, however, the chef gave a frustrated grunt and stood. With his loathsome head mere feet away from Sakura’s hiding place, he reached up sausage-like fingers into the folds of his chin, then beneath them, slipping underneath a layer of doughy, jaundiced skin to scratch at the flesh beneath. If the small street fighter risked a peek, she could catch the most fleeting glimpse of much darker, gray-blue skin underneath what could only be a ghastly mask.

Just then the east-side door slammed open, a commotion far less expected than the reaction of the chef. Into the room barged an even bigger butcher, albeit one more identifiable human. Foregoing the proper if rumpled chef’s attire of his coworker, he favored a shirt soaked by both sweat and blood stretched thin by his remarkable girth. “What was that noise?” he demanded, looking straight at the malformed chef. “You drop something again?”

The chef made an angry noise, somewhere between a growl and a honk, which left the newcomer irate. Two missing front teeth added a little hiss and a little spit to everything he said. “Bah, why’d I bother? Bumbling fool. Keep this up and you’ll be the next main course! Ahahahaha!”

Bellowing another elephantine retort, the chef reached an arm across the counter and swept up a whole stack of bowls, slinging them across the kitchen. Being made of cheap wood they clattered harmlessly against whatever they hit, be that the tiles, the door, or Larry Chiang himself, who laughed it off. “Ahaha, that’s right! Just like that...HEY!”

He thrust an accusatory finger right at Sakura, who in a most unfortunate turn of events the chef had unwittingly revealed. Whether she took off running or attempted to fight, the chef turned and lunged with impressive speed, seizing the wriggling girl by the throat and ankles. Like the jaws of a bulldog his meaty mitts locked around her, totally immovable.

The Abyssals reacted immediately and without hesitation. From her vantage point Rika appeared with guns at the ready, while Bella emerged from hiding with a spin, looking over her shoulder as her tail prepared to fire. Nadia, still hiding in her pot with only her fingertips, folded-back ears, and upper head over the rim, watched as the Abyssals took their shots. Just as planned, Rika blasted one of the hooks to knock off its load. With the nearest being one on the hookline, that meant dropping a meat parcel right onto the chef’s head, crushing his toque in the process. At the same time Bella shot the chef right in the chest. With an alarmed yell he flinched, staggering backward from the tiny explosion, but he did not drop Sakura. Larry, meanwhile, drew back his off hand and with a grunt of exertion hurled a kitchen knife straight at Bella. She got out of the way not a moment too soon, and the blade embedded in the wooden leg of a table behind her, but as she readied another shot Larry lowered his head and charged like a bull, arms extended. “MEEEAT!” he howled, zooming across the kitchen. Before Bella knew it he clasped a hand around the throat of her leviathan tail and hauled her into the air, dangling like a hooked fish. In his other hand hung Rika, grabbed by her gauntlets. “Live ones!” he marvelled, sounding surprised. He gave both a good, violent shake, quelling their struggle. “That damn janitor must be getting lazy!”

Nadia’s grip tightened on her pot. Part of her, maybe figuring that these crazy cooks could only hold so many kids, wanted to leap out and join the attack. If everyone struck at once, their numbers advantage would surely put them on top, right? But at the same time, her heart was beating wildly, like a drum in a hailstorm. Larry had just inadvertently let slip a small but crucial detail about the meat, one that chilled her to the bone. And even if she managed to shoulder that terrible knowledge, there were more practical concerns at hand. These enemies were tough, strong, fast, and perhaps worst of all, clever. When it came to horror, not being an idiot meant even more for predators than it did for prey. What could she honestly do?

Then again, could she live with herself if she did nothing? Although she’d known them for less than a day, these people were her friends. How in the hell could she cower and let these freaks turn them into hamburger? No doubt the others felt the same. Not one of them would stand idly by. As all the cafeteria kids except the Runaway fled Nadia clenched her teeth and leaped from the pot, her fan held up like a shield. “Hey, uglies!” she yowled, running over to a few loose carrots. “Over here!” With one airburst at a time she sent the carrots flying, a volley of orange missiles.

As soon as children started appearing in force, wielding various weapons, Larry reconsidered the situation. The arrival of Blazermate, however, sealed the deal. “Gah! They’re everywhere!” The outburst of his fellow chef caught his attention, and when he made a run for it, Larry followed suit with another armored charge. Nadia ran after them, not even thinking about what would happen if she actually caught them, but it quickly came to nothing. Amidst a hail of projectiles the butchers absconded, slamming the eastward door behind them. Nadia slowed to a stop as she heard a padlock click into place on the other side, at a loss for words. Just like that the children were alone again, down three of their number, and armed with the knowledge that the three little girls might end up as mincemeat any second.

“Ahahaha, you kids settle down, now!” came Larry’s voice from the other side. “We’re gonna take our time makin’ the most of our fresh meat! Just sit tight and wait your turn. Hahahahaaaah!”

With the way east sealed only two options remained. One was the locked door to the south, the key by the cutting board now unprotected. The other, Nadia realized as she looked around, was a tiny vent not too far from the door. She scurried over and yanked it open, but even after leaving her fan behind, she realized that she could not squeeze through. By the smallest of margins, she was too big. “Grgh!” she grunted, trying in vain to fit her shoulders inside. Even if she somehow manages to clear the entrance, she’d be too stuck to advance any further unless painfully shoved through one centimeter at a time. “I can’t…guh!” It took some help to pull her back out. When she stood, frustrated, she realized with a little surprise that she stood taller than any of Mirage, Link, or Geralt. “Wait, what? I thought...I mean, nevermind! We’ve gotta save ‘em! Hurry and squeeze through”

Peach laid a hand on her shoulder. “Just a moment,” she squeaked. “I want to save them as much as you, but not everyone can fit through there, and those butchers could be waiting right on the other side! If we blindly rush in we could be throwing our lives away!”

“But we’re practically throwin’ theirs away if we don’t! Ugh!” Nadia kicked at a nearby table leg in frustration, predictably stubbing her toe. “Ow, oogh!” She shook her foot out and winced after placing it, her anger plain to see. “Well...what are we gonna do? Push through? Go around? Look for a key? This might be the only way in!”

Doing her best to keep her composure, Peach did her best to come up with an answer, giving the others a chance to do the same.

Infactorium: A New 4Xpansion (Overlord RP) [DISCONTINUED]

Thanks for the notice. I wish Enkryption a swift recovery.

World of Light

Team Mao

Location: Al Mamoon Northeast - Rocket Inc.
Midna’s @DracoLunaris, Sectonia’s @Archmage MC, Mao’s @Potemking, Jesse’s @Zoey Boey, Joker, Fox, Necronomicon, Braum

Evade Ciella, overwhelm the opposition, and take the hypnotic mastermind Nastasia down--the mission was simple enough, if not easy, and since every second counted the team got right to it.

Reunited from their separate brawls all across the alien colosseum by the Agito’s wide-ranging Floor of Despair, most of the Seekers ran at full tilt straight for the cluster of still-standing Resistance fighters, and none more so than Mao. The demon had noticed a certain bothersome someone way out of position, and with one victory already under his belt Mao powered through his wounds to run Fuse down. Another grenade flew his way, but by now Mao knew what to expect, and with a high-flying maneuver he came down on Fuse in a brutal plunging attack. In pragmatic fashion he threw restraint to the wind, counting on a follow-up Friend Heart to undo the lethal wound inflicted by his swordblade, saving the life of the unfortunate grenadier. And in a lucky break, things turned out exactly the way Mao planned. Overwhelmed by the physical shock of being dumped at death’s door only for it to slam in his face, Fuse collapsed, and Mao could rejoin his allies’ charge with barely a break in the action.

Though almost as scared as she was impressed, Necronomicon offered Mao some praise for his work. “Whoa. That was a risky move, Mao, but you really pulled it off!”

While her compatriots moved in for an all-out clash with the Resistance, Sectonia kept her focus squarely on Shadow. They’d been mutual thorns in each others’ sides throughout the entire conflict, though whether out of a desire to spare their teammates a particularly troublesome opponent or just out of spite was up to interpretation. Either way, neither planned to back down now. Shadow could feel that the climactic moment had appeared. Now, he knew, he’d squash this bug once and for all. “Alright, bee-yotch. You’ve had your fun, but playtime’s just about over. Any last words?”

As a matter of fact, Sectonia did. Though aware of the fact that Nastasia had him under control she made her best attempt to try and incite a rebellion, playing on the ego that so clearly oozed from his every pore. With a double dose of mental manipulation at play, however, Shadow was unmoved, as he quickly demonstrated. “Oh? How about I claim your spirit as a trophy once I’ve dispensed with you? Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. In fact, if you blink you might just miss me. Chaos Boost!”

A burst of red and white power surrounded him, becoming a swirling aura. He raised his hand in what was by now a familiar motion, but rather than a Chaos Spear he brought forth a much larger Chaos Lance, which he hurled at Sectonia. Though it seemed dodgeable, if she tried anything less than a dedicated attempt to avoid it, she would soon find that this attack need not hit her directly to be effective. Once in range it exploded, detonated mid-flight by Shadow with enough sheer power to stun anyone it hit. Shadow then threw himself forward in another Spin Attack. En route, however, he tapped into his Chaos powers once again. “Chaos Burst!” Around him space itself distorted, creating a miniature black hole that the hedgehog then hid himself inside. Totally untargetable, he guided the singularity of destruction Sectonia’s way, limited only by his inability to see where he was going whilst within distorted space.

While Sectonia tried to deal with that, the two sides down below closed in. Braum raised his shield, and though Reinhardt would have joined him, his broken shield’s partial regeneration meant it would break too fast if deployed too early, so the knight kept it in reserve for now. That turned out to be a mistake. He scoffed at gunfire and shrugged off low-level spells thanks to his futuristic armor, but one well-placed shot from Jesse’s tool gun shrunk him where he stood. The process was so disorienting that he could hardly react in time to the second jolt, and before he knew it the giant paladin stood no taller than a Weimaraner. At that point Jesse’s tunnel vision would have earned her a sound punishment under normal circumstances, but a quick appraisal of the enemy force told her that they sorely lacked in the long-range department, so she did not relent. Instead she battered Reinhardt with a projectile, failing to send him the hundreds of feet she envisioned, but dealing a chunk of damage nonetheless and, more importantly, removing him from the fight. One down, three to go.

She turned her uncanny gun on Sven, but by then her laser focus left its mark. Rather than the alchemist’s belly her enlargement ray struck Braum’s shield as the defender practically flew in front of his ally, and before Jesse knew it Sven had soared into the air. “That’s enough, lassie!” Flying above Braum’s head, he let fly a Chaos Quaff, an enormous glass jar of liquid sorcery that shone a distractingly radiant yellow. With low energy, no hovering, and not enough time to switch to Balloon again, there wasn't much Jesse could do. The bubbling brew shattered at her feet and splashed across a wide area, dousing her, Mao, and Joker in its magic. Instantly the three were polymorphed, transformed into adorable creatures. Mao became a horned critter, Jesse a marshmellow cat, and Joker a sheep, all three fluffy, small, and utterly harmless. That left only the Dragonborn and Fox still standing, two on three. Sven landed, shaking potions with both hands and ready to fight. Funny he might be, and homeless definitely, but he was not to be underestimated.

Braum slammed the ground, causing a fissure to form, and through the resulting instability Sven charged. He flung vial after vial, creating small magic explosions with each. Though incredibly hindered in their new forms the polymorphed trio had to dodge as best they could, but even then only a couple seconds passed before Sven whipped out some Acid Flasks. “Yah!” he cried, hurling his caustic concoctions to sizzle and sear. But the gleam of a prismatic blade cut one short, and though drops of burning acid struck his face and clothes Fox stood firm. He sliced through the second vial, and as the third flew straight for him he assumed a counter stance. The smash of glass against his head triggered a brilliant flash, and when his katana slid back into its scabbard Sven flew back, his belly covered in cuts.

Victory was short-lived. Fox fell to his knees, scorched by acid. “Gyagggghhh…” he gasped through gritted teeth. “That did not...go according..to plan!”

Seeing him in distress, Braum charged forward. The brainwashed guardian shoved the wounded Sven aside and ran straight for Fox, his enormous shield poised to smash him to a pulp. The Dragonborn jumped into help, but his lightning and swordblade found an immovable object, and he too fell by the wayside. Just when Fox’s death seemed certain, however, the effects of the short-lived Chaos Quaff wore off. The afflicted poofed back to normal, just in time to save Fox’s skin and take down the last enemy between them and Nastasia.

Joker reacted fast. “Jinx, Riot Gun!” His new Persona appeared in a burst of maniacal laughter, unleashing a torrent of gunfire from her minigun. The bullets hammered Braum’s shield, doing no damage but imparting enough force against its increased weight that she slowed him down. While this happened Joker charged, sprinting into and then up the wall of stone before him. He rolled over the top and came down with a stomp right to Braum’s nose, stunning him long enough that Joker could springboard off him and toward his real target: Nastasia. Sven and Braum were the others’ to deal with.

All the while, Midna did her best to hog Ciella’s coveted attention all to herself. When yelled at from the shadows but not attacked, the Agito covered her momentary bewilderment with a thundering repartee. “Your threats, empty as your head, ring hollow!” she resounded. “The hypocrites of the so-called Resistance--murderers and scoundrels who stained their hands with the blood of innocents and decreed it righteous! And your miserable band, so convinced of your own strength, but undone by a simple ploy I showed you once already? Hah! I despair for you all!”

Wherever Midna’s voice issued from, Ciella immediately turned to loose a five-shot spread of enchanted water arrows, their azure glow strong enough to scrub the shadows in their vicinity. They bounced off the floor, pillars, and walls, ricocheting unpredictably. If Midna revealed herself, however, Mona could patch her up with a burst of healing from his dashing Persona’s Diarama. When nothing happened for a while, however, Ciella’s fury died down, and though alert she stopped firing off arrows. “As I thought...a fangless phantom, cowering in the dark! Well, come on out if you dare. I’ll put you out of your misery!”

For a moment the ‘fight’ between Shadow and Sectonia caught her attention. In her eyes both were enemies, and neither expected a third party’s interference. In that moment Midna finally appeared, a spin tile in hand that unceremoniously hurled the harpy right into one of the arena walls. It hurt her pride more than anything else, but Ciella’s frustration was palpable. “Grrah!” she snarled. “Impish brat! Every second of my time you waste, your precious friends falter, and the enemy inches closer to victory! It’s past time I ended this. Mist Veil!”

A wave of fog expanded outward through the arena, and despite her gigantic size Ciella disappeared completely. In the eddies and swirls of mist her movements could not be cleanly discerned. In mere moments the Agito would appear to release her devastating attack. Everyone needed to finish this now.

Tora, Poppi, and Big Band

Level 9 Tora (56/90) Level 9 Poppi (56/90) Level 4 Big Band (12/40)
Location: Al Mamoon Northwest - Obelisk Temple
Primrose’s @Yankee, Fox’s @Dawnrider, Yoshitsune and Sora’s @Rockin Strings
Word Count: 1892

Though the Grimleal construed their offer as a choice, for most of those present, it was really no choice at all. Not able to discount the possibility of further executions on Azwel’s part, and more wary now of the sneering Kan-Ra, Tora and Poppi instinctively took a protective position in front of the other fallen Resistance fighters. They felt bad enough about the deaths on their own hands during the life-or-death battle minutes ago, and with their former enemies now defenseless, they refused to allow any more killing. Likewise, Goldlewis and Big Band -formidable obstacles by themselves, let alone together- kept an eye on the strange bellows they’d been acquainted with. The Grimleal, however, seemed to give the matter no further thought. When Fox moved to treat Robin with a friend heart, neither Kan-Ra nor Azwel batted an eye. Instead they made for the dungeon entrance, but as the researcher left, possibly to summon the acolytes, the sorcerer remained behind.

Groaning, Robin picked himself off the ground. With a sleeve he wiped at his face as if trying to clear away the remainder of the fog that clouded his mind. When his eyes finally blinked open, they landed on a familiar vulpine face. “Ah…” He rose into a kneeling position, massaging his neck as he did. Though a changed man since Fox last met him, he looked at the pilot with recognition in his eyes. Thanks to a sharp mind Robin was quickly piecing things together, but the weight of so many realizations and memories still made it difficult to formulate his thoughts. “I...forgive me,” he said at last, looking between Fox and the Phantom Thieves. “Even if my mind was not my own, it was by my hand that much pain was wrought, and for that I can only offer my deepest apologies. I know not how you dispelled this hex, but I am exceedingly grateful, nonetheless.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Skull told him, his jovial manner making it clear that neither he nor Panther took it too seriously.

His friend nodded, her smile encouraging. “Yeah, no problem! This kind of thing’s been happening, like, literally all the time.”

The sight of blonde pigtails reminded Robin to look back down at Tharja, who still lay at his side. He leaned over and laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking softly, but she barely stirred. After a moment the tactician looked back at Fox, his plea easily guessed. “I hate to ask more of you when you’ve already done so much, but if at all possible I would want Tharja restored, as well.” A conflicted but telling expression took over his features. “She’s become...well, rather important to me.”

“Heheh, good mornin’ heartache,” Band chuckled, before growing serious. “Don’chu worry ‘bout a thing, Mister Magic, we’ll get her fixed up. In fact, I bet we’ve all got some heart to give, right folks?” With a look around the detective conducted a quick headcount. “Three, four, five. Not so bad, as long as we spread the love around. Don’t want anyone gettin’ too beat.”

Poppi raised her hand for attention. “Six actually, friend Band. Poppi trapped gun lady in jail cell.”

“Oh, yeah!” Goldlewis snapped his fingers. “Knew I was forgettin’ somethin’. Jus’ be careful, she’s still got ‘er gun in there.”

After considering all the potential subjects his team could free, Tora gave a grimace. “Do friends really need heart big baldypon? He very nasty to Rose-Rose!” With a resolute shake of his head the Nopon put his wings akimbo. “Tora not do it!”

“Don’t be childish,” Big Band scolded him as he moved toward the titanic ninja. Copying what the others did, he managed to produce a friend heart on his first try and slap it into Earthquake’s gut. As the bandit stirred, Band continued, “Even if the guy’s a scumbag, he was under both the Resistance’s brainwashin’ and Galeem’s control. We don’t get to call the shots when it comes to people’s lives.”

“Meeeh…”

“Ga-what now?” Goldlewis scratched his head. “Uh, either way, I don’t think any of these guys’re gonna get justice ‘round these parts.” He glared at the Grimleal. “Not with varmints like them around.”

Like it or not, Big Band came to the same conclusion. Whether corrupt or just cruel, the administration led by Validar was one he couldn’t abide, and from the looks of it the rest of the Seekers felt the same way. “We’ll jus’ have to take it up with Validar. And be ready for anything.”

As the Seekers spread out to distribute liberation, with Tora and Poppi going to tear down their handiwork in an effort to take care of Daisy, Robin remained at Tharja’s side. She, Sora, Es, and the Witch Doctor still needed a heart from someone or another, and the tactician waited to see who would step up to the plate. A nudge at his side prompted him to glance over and see Drippy, returned from his hiding place, and though Gleaming he lacked the hypnosis placed on all the Resistance members. “Looks like we’ve still got a shot to expose that rotter Validar, eh?”

“Perhaps,” Robin replied, uncertain. “If it were up to the Grimleal I’m certain all your lives would be forfeit, brainwashing be damned. Validar might spare me only so that I might become a vessel for the Fell Dragon, Grima. But I’m not going to let that happen, and it would appear that this odd group may be our salvation. The campaign of the Resistance may have been a sham, but given the strength and moral fiber of these ‘mercenaries’, revolution may yet come to Al Mamoon.”

Drippy nodded enthusiastically, jungling his nose-lantern. “Tidy! Don’t you fret mun, we’ll have ouer day yet!”

Once the former Resistance members had been restored, that left just a couple loose ends. One was the embraced knight still imprisoned closer to the stairs, but Tora and Poppi concerned themselves with a more personal matter. They held the spirits of Beast and Dante, one apiece. “Fight was very tough, meh” Tora told Big Band when he caught the detective’s quizzical look. “If Tora and Poppi not go all-out, we probably die.”

It was an excuse Band heard more than enough of during his time on the force. Crooked cops could spin up any excuse to explain away their dirty deeds. But neither the rotund inventor nor his companion stank of corruption, and Band gave them the benefit of the doubt. “I see.” He bent down to give the dwarf’s spirit a closer look. “Looks like a tough cookie. You gonna fuse with him?”

Tora shook his head emphatically. “Meh-meh, no way! Tora have dream other night that Tora fuse with old beardypon. Get weird legs and human nose! Blegh! In future, Tora only accept things with same shape!”

“Well, Poppi not want him, either,” the artificial blade declared, her own decision already made. She glared at the spirit of Dante with unconcealed contempt. “And not want this guy. There more important things than strength.”

“Why not break ‘em, then?” Band suggested with his eyes on Tora. “Your guy had a hammer, right? Might pack more punch than your dinky li’l wrench there.” The Nopon agreed and crushed Beast’s spirit, and a moment later Poppi followed suit with Dante’s.

For Tora and Poppi

Weapon acquired:
Ukonvasara
A war hammer wielded by Vikings and Norse raiders in ages past. Said to be the magic weapon of the Finnish thunder god Ukko, they’re said to strike like lightning and contain the power to both heal and harm. This blunt weapon does indeed inflict some shock damage on contact

And:
Eryx Chip
A core chip for Poppi QT that changes the Mech Arms, increasing their strength and utility. Bearing the same twisted, demon-red appearance as Eryx, these Mech Arms shoot missiles enhanced with demonic power, and their striking ends are the fists of actually functional hands, allowing Poppi to grapple with them as well as punch

Tora waved his new hammer around, a little disappointed. “It got much shorter, meh.”

“This actually really good,” Poppi observed, having changed to QT mode to try her new Mech Arms out. “Less unwieldy, more destructive, and can actually grab and hold things.”

Meanwhile, Skull was checking out the spirit of Charnok that Panther recovered. “You’re not gonna absorb him too, right?”

Panther shook her head, bouncing her giant pigtails around. “Nah. I get the feeling that if I fuse with any more reptiles, it’s gonna be messy. Only spirits that are both cute and strong from here on out!”

“Yeah, makes sense. Ooh, then what about her?” Skull indicated Es.

He received an incredulous look from Panther for his efforts. “You just want me to be shorter than you again.” Another possibility dawned on her, one that turned her expression highly judgemental. “That...or you want me bigger in another way...”

Skull shook his head wildly as he waved his hands, trying to placate her, although the slight reddening of his cheeks gave the game away. “N-no way, man! I was just thinking, she was pretty, um, pretty...uh, strong! And really fast too, with that giant sword! Y-ya know what I mean?”

At about that time Azwel returned with his acolytes, providing an escort for both Seekers and Resistance members alike. It was time to return to the surface.

Tora freed Goldlewis. Poppi freed Daisy.

---

After a long trek back up through the Temple of Khamoon, including an exhaustive number of stairs, the afternoon sun fell upon the group once more. Tora blinked as his eyes adjusted, having been deep underground for a little too long, and stretched. “Meee-eh! So good to get back out in open!” He brushed some dust out of his hair before looked around. “What now?”

“Now, we will return with the prisoners to the palace,” Kan-Ra informed the team. “I can only imagine that it is your destination as well.”

“What is it?” his comrade asked, having heard his name.

Kan-Ra grinned at him. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t mean to address you. How foolish of me~”

As the researcher brushed him off, glowering, the sorcerer returned his attention to the others. “As I was saying, I can only imagine that the palace is your destination...also. Whether to collect your reward, or for other reasons. Although, your friends that went to join dear Ciella may not yet be done. Who knows how that turned out.” Not once did his leering smile diminish. “Rest assured we will watch over the prisoners until you all return, with the final third of their number.”

Every word eking out of the not-mummy’s mouth made alarm bells go off in Band’s head, but he did have a point. Since the boss of the Resistance wasn’t here, as Robin made plain on the way up, that meant she would be facing the other team. He did not trust the Grimleal with the captives, but he didn’t want to just assume that the other team had things covered, either. With time of the essence, he came to a decision. “Goldlewis, Fox, whaddya say we keep our new friends company while the rest run on over to the other base?”

Poppi tapped a metal finger against her cheek, thinking. “How we know where other friends are?”

“We need guide,” Tora answered, his eyes on Kan-Ra and Azwel. “Either Grimmypon help, or let Resistance member help us.”

With his arms crossed, Azwel looked displeased. “We are hardly beholden to you, my ovoid friend!”

“Now, now. I’m sure we could spare an acolyte or two to lead the way,” Kan-Ra smirked.

Band realized something. “Nuh-uh. Not gonna take a chance on ya leadin’ us on a wild goose chase. Seein’ as I’m somethin’ of a law officer myself, I’ll just take a captive into protective custody.”

For a brief moment it seemed as though an ever-so-slight shadow passed over Kan-Ra’s smile. “...Suit yourself.”

After a moment’s deliberation Es received the nomination, and in just a few moments more the former team Kan-Ra was off.

Ms Fortune

Level 4 Nadia (94/40)
Location: The Maw
Blazermate's @Archmage MC, Bowser's @DracoLunaris, Ace Cadet's @Yankee, Sakura's @Zoey Boey, Mirage’s @Potemking, Link’s @Gentlemanvaultboy
Word Count: 1278

Blind and deaf to the world beyond her dinner table, Nadia savored her sardines for all they were worth. She popped in several entire fishes in at once, urged by her hunger to gulp them down quickly but able to eat just slowly enough to enjoy their salty, fatty oils, and the flavor of the tomato juice they’d been packed in. Still, in no time at all they were gone, and Nadia reached for the next closest morsels. She crunched up a carrot, wolfed down a wedge of cheese, and annihilated a tuna steak and had her claws on another sardine tin before she finally paused. “Oof,” she murmured, more from weariness than anything, and with a relieved sigh she stretched out to rest for a moment.

Though by no means stuffed and not even full, she felt infinitely better. The dire emptiness that made her take leave of her senses had calmed for now; the beast had been appeased. As she lay there Nadia took another, better look around the cafeteria. Most of the gaunt, unfamiliar kids still hid themselves in the shadows away from their boisterous guests, but one boy with hair covering his eyes approached them. Via pantomime he made clear to the new kids both his resolve to get out of here and a method by which they might do so, which gave the Seekers who refused to eat something else to hold on to. By Nadia’s estimation, Geralt, Link, Mirage, Sakura, Rika, Kamek, and of course Blazermate had yet to give in to their appetites, which cut the group approximately in half. Nadia, Bowser, Junior, Mimi, the behemoths, Glenn, Peach, and Bella, meanwhile, had partaken.

Did the feral wish she could have controlled herself? Naturally. She couldn’t help but flush a little in embarrassment when she pictured the others watching her binge. But she was a simple girl of simple pleasures. Good company, good sport, and good eating were what kept her blood flowing, aside from the Life Gem, of course. One of Little Innsmouth’s many axioms rang true in her mind. Food is life. Dying of a curse in the future could really suck, but that was then, and this is now. If there was any chance of overcoming this nightmarish place, she needed strength for the road ahead. She could not bring herself to regret her decision. As the others made for the kitchen door to unlock the way forward, she picked herself up from the table and hopped down to the floor, the unopened sardine tin held under one arm like a bookbag. With it, she could stave off hunger one fish at a time going forward, or even save the life of someone who collapsed from starvation. Nadia made just one more stop, recovering her fan from where Junior dropped it in his mad rush for food, as well as the magnet that slipped from her grasp earlier. It stuck to the side of the fan, and with the makeshift straps still intact she put it on like a backpack and scampered over to join her friends. Even after she arrived, however, she still didn’t notice that she was subtly, almost imperceptibly, taller.

It took a little boosting to reach the doorknob, since this place still seemed larger than it logically should be, but the key fit the lock. Tension filled the air as it turned, inner mechanisms sliding steadily, until finally there came the all-important click and the padlock dropped to the ground with a thump. The kitchen door swung ajar, a pale light pouring through. The Runaway slipped through the gap, paving the way for the others to follow. Behind them, a handful of the most intrepid children among the captive lot pressed up against the Seekers, willing to risk an uneasy fellowship for the sake of escape. One by one the quiet, nervous procession filtered into the new area, wondering just what fresh hell awaited them this time.

But all they found at first, when the wooden planks gave way to neat brown tiles, was an innocuous larder. With shelves full of sauces, spices, wines, raw vegetables of dubious freshness, and other cooking ingredients, it held little in the way of horror. Nevertheless, the hookline carried onward overhead, the packages that dangled from it swinging side to side softly as they traveled. The Runaway followed them through the open doorway, where a short hall formed a right-facing T-junction, and made a right turn. Treading as softly as she could, Nadia followed him, but she could not avoid glancing straight ahead in the direction the parcels went. There, she saw a small room of a much more grisly nature. Parcels littered it, some bent oddly, and a big one poked out of what could only be a meat grinder, which the hookline passed right over. Splattered gunk smeared the floor and walls, and from the pots and buckets of unidentifiable meat sludge by the grinder issues such a revolting smell that Nadia’s lip curled. She hurried on her way.

When she reached the next room, however, she stopped cold. Before her stood a much bigger, better-furnished meat processing center, a far cry from the deplorable grinding room next door, and it appeared to be the terminus of the hookline. A huge heap of cheesecloth-wrapped parcels stood in one corner, and rows of meats, from sausage links and hams to steaks and racks of ribs hung from hooks above the counters. In the constant gentle motion of the Maw they swung in unison, strangely hypnotic. Nadia’s eyes, however, lay not on the butchery, but the butcher.

He was a grotesque spectacle. With folds of doughy flesh about as yellowed as his ill-fitting uniform, a rumpled chef’s hat atop a blobby, distorted face stretched like clay to a hideous, sagging broadness, and eyes that bulged from their sockets as they stared listlessly in to different directions, he bent single-mindedly at his task. Again and again he hacked into a hulking mass of meat with his cleaver, splashing murky blood across his cutting board, pausing only to bury his hands in vats of salt and pepper to rub into the flesh by way of seasoning. In terms of height the horrible cook outstripped Blazermate by a decent margin, and in a way he unnerved Nadia more than any of the monsters that preceded him. Bongo Bongo had been a terrifying apparition, but existed so far beyond the norm that Nadia could scarcely internalize it. Moreau had been a wretched thing, and in his mutated form awakened a primal fear in the way that only an apex predator could. In comparison this just seemed to be a gross man with a big knife, but the way he was so uncannily almost human, but not quite, made her skin crawl.

At least he had yet to notice the uninvited guests piling up on one side of the butcher room, already spreading out to hide beneath tables and counters. Nadia wondered if they had enough manpower, child forms taken into account, to actually fight this grisly chef. Still, if she could sneak past, that would be her first choice. There appeared to be two exits: one continuing east and one to the south, which featured a deadbolt lock. The Runaway’s pointed finger indicated a shiny key by the cutting board on the table, but Nadia wondered whether or she could grab hold of a parcel and ride it across the room eastward if she clambered up the pile toward the hookline. Either way, the frontrunners would need to do something fast. There were too many would-be escapees to avoid detection for long.

Old Mill

Location: Frozen Highlands - Alpine Skyline
Linkle’s @Gentlemanvaultboy

When Albedo looked to his new friend he originally expected no more than a few spitballed ideas, but he soon got a lot more than he bargained for. In an oddly coincidental turn of events, Linkle recognized this place, if not from her own experience then at least from legend, and she wasted no time proving it. It became obvious that the obstacles of this section of the Old Mill would be no trouble for her, but in terms of exactly how the cheery Skullgirl managed to surprise him once again.

Rather than try her luck with the fans and falling objects ahead, Linkle manifested the power of ice, creating a frozen mass that promised to rise beneath the pair as long as she kept pumping magic into it. It was the exact same trick she’d pulled off to seal the Stranger in the ravine outside Snowdin, albeit in far less intense circumstances. With all the conventional running and jumping Linkle had done, Albedo had forgotten she possessed such an ability, perhaps foolishly, although the alchemist did not allow himself to waste any time with self-reproach. Nor did he make unproductive comparisons between Linkle’s icy elevator and his own solar isotomas, since while her method outperformed his in height and permanence, it also incurred a greater cost. Instead he rode silently, grateful for the warm coat that protected him from high-altitude winds and glacial chills alike, and waited to make the cat burglars’ acquaintance.

Linkle and Albedo arrived a few moments later, leaping from the top of the iceberg straight into the sneaky thieves’ hideout. Although little more than a corner loft with two sides open to the rest of the windmill interior, it managed to be a cozy little place. There were cushions, books, games, all sorts of things probably stolen from passers-by. The round window that provided a stunning view of the Alpine Skyline even featured curtains. So sudden and unexpected was the intruders’ circuitous method of entry that it took the cats completely by surprise. After seeing the sword in Albedo’s hand they jumped, yowling, and ran to hide among their pillows, toys, and curtains, but the paws and tails sticking out made their attempt all the funnier. Clearly the pint-sized pilferers never thought anyone would make it up here.

When he realized that the cats intended to do no more than cower, Albedo shrugged and went to retrieve his sketchbook, lying neatly on top of a small pile of other reading material. Linkle’s crossbows, meanwhile, could be retrieved from where the felines playing with them dropped them, that being on the floor. “Somewhat anticlimactic,” the alchemist observed idly. “But for the better. I doubt they’ll mess with us twice.” He moved to the edge, considering a way back down the mill, the possibility that Linkle might want to interact with the cats further lost on him.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

It's go time! With a little help everyone's got a chance to make a break for it. You've got liberty to both handle the flight from the courthouse and beyond it. It's a big prison, but with the Warlord's Vision down you can forge your own path out of the place. Coordinate an escape route, follow the leader, or whatever, but though the guards aren't that fast there are enough scattered around the grounds that it would be unwise to tarry for too long, or let yourself get cornered. If you find somewhere to lay low, however, you'll lose your heat and can stealth around.

There are a handful of landmarks in the prison grounds that may be familiar to you. Some, like the cathedral, the entertainment hall, the Egyptian temple, and the suburban home don't seem to fit the place, seemingly little worlds in and unto themselves. There are a couple more subtle anomalies though, like the open prison cell full of bodies, and the underground passages. Could one of them offer refuge or escape?

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Barney Rynsburger

Like electricity the pronouncements of the yellow-eyed adjudicator crackled among his gathered captives, and though spoken evenly they charged the very air with tension. It left several of them numb, too overloaded by the brute force of heavy truncheons and inhumane exploitation to be shocked by Pondwater’s callous philosophies. Barney kept himself as still and harmless-seeming as possible, firmly convinced that despite this man’s reasonable, even affable exterior, he would not hesitate to visit terrible cruelty on anyone he branded ‘guilty’. That was the fate that had befallen the inmates outside, after all. The thought that he could be made to suffer so thoroughly and utterly that he lapsed into total silence terrified Barney to the very core, far more acutely than any dream or nightmare should be able to.

As he and a few others quivered, however, others got jolted into action. In what was becoming typical fashion Dakota found his voice first, and Barney marveled at the former singer’s courage. He spoke aloud the implication that the judge laid before them all--that they too would be judged, their innocence or guilty confirmed. Pondwater gave a stiff nod. “Precisely,” he replied, lifting an index finger off his gavel to tap his nose. “In this very room, I will preside over your trial. You all should count yourself fortunate, for not all receive the honor of my personal arbitration. The typical defendant is jailed for a period of their own choosing, between two and ten years. The greater the sacrifice, the greater potential gain, naturally. Like theirs, yours will be a trial of the spirit, determining your strength, endurance, and willpower, but it will be much faster. Lucrative, no?”

Wait, what?! In a judgement where the sentence was imprisonment, the trial itself was imprisonment? Not a matter of litigation or evidence, but a trial in the Herculean sense, where the court subjected the defendant to the same tortuous existence as the condemned? Barney reeled from the revelation, but the knowledge that ordeal in store for him would be something else reigned him in. Of course, that just left one question. What exactly would it be? At this point, the young man couldn’t even hazard a guess. Anything was possible. All bets were off.

He glanced over at Caelum when the formal youth asserted himself, as best he could, given the circumstances. When he spoke up the sentries’ eyeless faces stared right at him, like guard dogs ready to lunge, but they made no motion without their master’s say-so. Pondwater himself, wearing a curious expression, sized Caelum up. Though he’d managed to mentally compose himself somewhat, he could only look so dignified while smeared with his own fluids and disheveled by time spent on the ground. The judge angled his head and stroked his beard. “Are you sure? You have the look of a man who’s been beaten, and not just by my guards.” He drew closer and leaned toward Caelum’s face, challenging the bloodied teenager to look him in his eye. “Fine clothes, a noble bearing. Someone brushed by greatness..? Hm. Perhaps,” the shadow intoned, “You are indeed an accomplished, well-adjusted young man, your future bright, your ducks in a row. Or perhaps you are merely pretending. Failures are those who would rather cover up their shortcomings than get rid of them. Those who care only for appearances, wearing masks to hide the scars beneath. Is that you?” Pondwater shrugged as he retreated a few steps. “The truth, as they say, will out. For before you is a chance to absolve yourself of guilt. I want you to show me the truth of your words.”

At that point, a very small voice reached him, but in the tomblike silence of the courthouse’s grand foyer it could scarcely be missed. The judge’s eyes, one piercing bright yellow and one black behind the lens of his glasses, fixated on Alina. “...I beg your pardon?” Pondwater asked, his voice rock-hard. “Perhaps I didn’t quite hear you. Surely, that wasn’t a refusal.” He clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. If you don’t take a test, you still fail, my dear. To be so far gone that you’d plead guilty straightaway, without so much reaching for the light...well, I’m afraid we don’t give points for honesty.” He nodded at a guard, who slouched forward to grab Alina like a child painfully tight around the middle and pick her up. As Pondwater approached, the guard held her at just the right height to whisper in his ear, which the judge held an expectant hand up to. “Now, what was that you said, again?”

Before Alina could reply, she was saved by a far less subtle outburst. Slowly Pondwater turned to face Nick, his luminescent gaze stony, as the crass boy repudiated him. If the guards looked irritated by Caelum, they practically fumed now, their batons held tight in clenched hands ready to crush bones into sawdust. When Nick finished, however, Pondwater stepped away from Alina with a wry smile, and the guard holding the girl put her down. “Where you are?” the judge repeated, bringing his gavel up onto one shoulder as the other slid into a pocket. He sauntered a few steps forward, drawling, “No wonder. It is clear you’ve clothed your naked guilt in the morality of the slave, dredging up enough self-esteem to live on by hurling pitiful defiances at your masters. But no matter how you self-aggrandize, it is still the masters who call the shots. In our world, you’ve gotten nowhere.”

In one fluid motion the judge swept the gavel from his shoulders and plunged it, head-first, into the ground at his feet. The sound of the impact filled the whole courthouse, and as one the guards moved to line up on either side of Pondwater. When the shadow spoke again, he did so with booming bass. “However, you chose a few of your other words far more fortuitously. For your trial is now in session, and fighting tooth and nail is precisely what I ask of you all.” He gestured to the rows of minions. “These guards mistreated you. Hurt your bodies and, worse, your pride. If you are not beyond hope, then surely, you burned against them. To strike them down and claim victory over those who dared to bring you down. Well, now is your chance to assert yourselves!” The judge smiled grimly, holding up a hand. “Lay them low and defend your innocence. Or die, and be proven guilty!”

He snapped his fingers, and in uniform the guards began to spasm. Their bodies twitched and swelled violently, as if they were possessed, their uniforms melting into shadow. With a final lurch their heads snapped backward, and one after another the pits in their faces discharged an explosive burst of inky, oily blackness. The murky, smoky geysers rose like mushroom clouds, dancing shapes forming and unforming within the haze. Then, just a second later, they came.

Barney recoiled as freakish things emerged from the dwindling clouds. The first thing he saw looked like a wretched, mutated bird, with a greenish, featherless body like a plucked chicken, gangly limbs, and a serpentine neck that coiled around itself. A blood-red face bearing a long, swordlike beak hid behind wings with gleaming, bloodshot eyes. After swooping down from their clouds the four Duplicitous Storks hovered in the air, limbs twitching fitfully as their loathsome necks wound and unwound.

Bizarre as they were, however, Barney ended up paying them little mind. Malformed cranes could still conceivably have a place in reality, but the next monsters to appear could not. They were gruesome, bodiless amalgamations, their leonine heads nestled in a ring of goat legs with too many joints, curled spider-like in all directions. Two pairs of bronze, glinting spider eyes stared out from regal faces with manes wreathed in fire. They also floated in the air, and as they turned like wheels the Lionhead Doctors half-snarled and half-bleated over the roar of their flames.

Most alarming of all, however, was the nightmare that sprang from the husk of the guard captain. It leaped down from the cloud and skidded to a halt, a three-headed beast with raven-black fur and plumage. A canine body and forepaws gave way to the dark feathers of flank wings, a tail, and rear talons, but all Barney could focus on was the violet inferno that surged from the monster’s three sets of horns. An object floated above each head in the blaze as if fuel for the fires, but they did not burn away, and the creature’s crimson eyes smouldered almost as brightly as the Night-howling Rhetorician pawed the ground, baying in a cacophony of sordid voices.

Through the chaos the judge’s voice resounded. “Hahaha! Magnificent, are they not? Shax, Buer, and my faithful Naberius! And though impressive they are but the least of the challenges my anointed must face. Destroy my servants, and you too may one day take your place at my side!”

At some point, Barney had hit the ground, though he couldn’t remember falling. Just the shadows called Shax would have been bad, although maybe he could have theoretically managed by grabbing and wringing their necks. The sight of the three Buers filled him with both terror and revulsion, but even then, with his life on the line, maybe he could have done something. But when Naberius appeared, it was all over. Standing as tall as a cow, the monstrosity loomed over him like the specter of death, more fearsome than any terrestrial predator on earth. All Barney wanted to do was run, but his legs, convinced that the hound would lunge the instant he turned tail, wouldn’t work. “W-what the hell!” he burst out, somewhere between a yell and a stuttering wheeze. “We’re just normal people! We can’t fight these monsters!”

The judge held up both hands, one curled around the shaft of his gavel. “In life-or-death circumstances, people are capable of incredible feats of courage and strength. They show you who they truly are!” He pointed the head of his gavel at Barney. “And since you’ve shown yourself to be a coward, we might as well start with you. Naberius....GAH!”

All of a sudden Pondwater’s shadow doubled over, clutching one eye. He held a palm to the side of his face with the mask-lens, leaning on his gavel with the other hand for support. As Barney watched, baffled, a terrific crash sounded out from above. He looked up to see a blue, humanoid blur plunging through a glass window, and just a moment after he scrambled out from beneath it the unknown intruder slammed down on Naberius with the force of the whole fall driving a long, silver sword through the monster’s central head.

Barney blinked, stunned, as the stranger looked up and toward his group of defendants. Instantly a lightbulb went off in his head, a surge of recognition and remembrance. That royal blue uniform, the glasses, that distinctive hat over black, scruffy hair. A black tie and shorts with a utility belt over dark leggings. Heavy-set to the point of being portly, but energetic and confident. It was the police girl from his dreams.

“You!” For a moment Barney couldn’t formulate any coherent thoughts, struck as he was by tonal whiplash. In just one moment he’d gone from certain death to irrepressible gratitude for this unlikely savior, and somehow that led him to one realization that he somehow couldn’t dispense with.

She’s so cute!

She grinned at the group. “Me!” Her expression then turned serious, and she told them, “You guys better run while his Vision is out! I’ll cover ya as best I can!”

“Feculent pig!” Pondwater’s bellowed insult echoed through the courthouse. He’d risen with clenched teeth, still clutching one eye, and extended his gavel toward the humans. “Kill them, you imbeciles!”

The Shadows started to move. Reaching down, the police girl seized the bottom of her sword where it protruded from the bottom of Naberius’ jaw. With a hearty pull she wrenched the middle head sideways, snapping its neck, before she executed a graceful flip in front of it. Her weapon, which Barney suddenly realized was a giant needle, flashed between the remaining heads, dealing both a painful slice before she kicked it right in the middle. As the oversized dog stepped back, whimpering, a fireball from a Buer on the left blazed within an inch of the girl’s face, but she managed to lean back in time.

A quick duck to the right saved her from a Buer that hurled itself at her like a buzz saw, and with remarkable speed her needle came up to clash twice with a Shax’s beak. Once put off-balance it fell victim to a well-placed slug from the police girl’s other arm, but a rain of bubbling curses forced her to dodge away. She rose from her roll and hurled her needle like a javelin into the face of the third Buer, and all the while she kept that ear-to-ear smile. “Yes!” A silvery gleam in the air revealed the presence of a silken thread, and when the girl gave it a yank the Buer went flying. “Yeeeeeehaw!” Whooping, the police girl spun the monster around like a giant yoyo, battering away the rest of the enemies. When the needle finally came loose, sending a pile of shadows tumbling toward Pondwater, she chucked something after them with her other hand. Only after it pinged off a Buer’s forehead did Barney realize that it was a grenade, and with another tug of her string the police girl pulled the pin.

A fiery explosion shook the courthouse. The monsters disappeared in the blast, and Barney, who’d been still as a statue while staring at the fight, jolted awake. Looking back at everyone yet to make a run for it, the police girl waved her hand in the universal get away motion. “What the heck’re y’all waitin’ for!? Get your sorry butts outta here!” Behind her, the smoke was clearing, and a quick headcount would reveal that she had yet to actually kill even a single enemy. As she turned back to face them, Barney turned tail. Though practically delirious with confusion at everything going on, this girl had given him a chance for survival, and thanks to it he pulled himself together enough to run with it. He was loath to leave this girl alone, but she could handle herself, and he would be a hindrance. Instead he did as he was told and began a mad dash for the front door.

In the way were two Shaxes that had managed to make their way around the main fight. Escaping meant getting around them and the dark magic they’d tried against the police girl, but this time Barney didn’t back down. He couldn’t--not now that the chips were down and he had a chance of survival. “Gang way!” he thundered, and with his head shielded by his arms he charged forward.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Barney Rynsburger

For a moment the nature of the questions posed to the group of captive intruders both took Barney aback and put him at a loss for words. The gavel-bearing doppelganger didn’t offer any earth-shattering revelations of course; what he asked really wasn’t anything special. Rather, Barney couldn’t for the life of him figure out what to say when faced, in such a surreal location under bizarre circumstances, with what seemed to be a mundane security concern.

Should he tell the truth? Well, in a broader sense, yes, but right now the urge to not be killed, beaten, put in a money-sucking helmet, or otherwise made to suffer (more than usual, anyway) was conducting his train of thought. What did this austere, imperial judge, so calm and well-kept despite being the ‘boss’ of a facility that treated countless humans like livestock, want to hear? That a bunch of random people fell from the sky? In the real world a story like that wouldn’t fly, but considering everything unreal about this place maybe it would hold water. Then again, what exactly could Barney tell this guy instead? Even without the psychological battering ram that was this nightmare world pounding his head, he wasn’t creative enough to come up with a convincing fib. His mind raced for the right answer, but the wheels were spinning, going nowhere.

With Barney overthinking this it fell to the more impulsive individuals among his not-so-merry band. Dakota took his shot straightaway, and as a straight shooter he delivered the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The judge stroked his beard as he listened, stone-faced despite a tale that would be beyond incredulous by any conventional standards. When Dakota suddenly reached into a pocket for his phone Barney experienced a momentary jolt of terror, afraid that the trigger-happy guards might interpret the motion as going for a hidden weapon and jump on him, but the watchful sentries held their positions. Maybe they weren’t as quick to jump the gun as he thought--or maybe they just wanted to look professional in front of their boss. Either way, Dakota offered the judge the video recording from earlier as proof, which he deigned to watch for a few seconds to see for himself the truth in the former singer’s words.

Emboldened by what appeared to be a reasonable attitude on the judge’s part, Jin offered a few words as well. A very slight look of interest crossed Shadow Pondwater’s face when he heard the word ‘school’, but he ended up declining the janitor’s list of cracks. Something seemed to have dawned on him, and along with it came a certain assurance. “No need for that. I believe I understand. Given the circumstances I suspected something like this, in fact, but I’ll confess to being surprised at just how many of you there are. This is not an everyday occurrence, oh no. Quite the stroke of luck for the both of us.”

After seeing the way he talked, Barney found himself agreeing with Mila completely. "Yeah, one hundred percent," he whispered back. One thing in particular that the judge said took him off guard again. “Just a moment, if you don’t mind? You mentioned the circumstances. Has this happened before?”

“Oh, yes,” the yellow-eyed Pondwater said, wearing a pleased smile. “I wouldn’t even call it terribly rare.”

Barney couldn’t suppress a shudder. An irrepressible question surged up from within him. “...Why?”

With one hand on his gavel Pondwater raised the other to gesticulate artfully as he replied. “As you are all no doubt keenly aware...our reality is a cruel one. An existence of ceaseless competition. Everyone wants to succeed and be happy, but there are far too many people out there for that to happen, yes. Many will stumble, trip, and fall. And even those that don’t at first may fall later, if their success was not by their own merits. Simply put, there are those who have what it takes, and those who do not. Winners and losers. The worthy and the unworthy. The innocent and the guilty. To answer your question, this place is one where people, of their own free will, come to be tried. Where those who can withstand the crucible emerge radiant with success, welcomed among my anointed and bound for greatness...and where those guilty of failure are sentenced.” He gave an offhanded shrug. “Naturally, wherever there are failures, some are bound to fall through the cracks.”

Barney stood still, mouth slightly ajar, as he mulled over the alarming information. It was a lot to take in, and phrased in a way that made it difficult to parse, but the more connections he made the more horrified he felt. Suddenly the prison, the inmates, the machines, Pondwater, and the placement of it all made a freakish sort of sense. Fittingly enough for a dream, everything was suddenly starting to seem so disgustingly symbolic. Barney could only shake his head in resignation. What kind of drugs did I get slipped to have a fever dream like this!? “I need to wake up already,” he murmured to himself.

The motion and noise caused the judge’s brow to furrow. “Hm? You disagree?”

Barney’s own brows shot up. “Oh! Uh, no, sorry! Just, uh, thinking about...my job.” He looked warily at the menacing guards, into the dark pits where their faces should be. This time he didn’t dare move a muscle or mutter anything, feeling like he was going crazy.