Current
Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
4 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
8 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
1
like
10 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized
1 yr ago
Tomorrow comes
Bio
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Anyone is free to interact with Laharl, I fell asleep before finishing the post properly. Now it is done.
Since Laharl is trailing behind, he would probably have to take the initiative, catching up and then making himself known. By the way, just to help you get better situation, I wanted to mention that right now there's only one peak at hand, the Split Mountain from Journey, and the train that the group took here wasn't a normal train but the Railway Gun from Lost Plant 2.
@Lugubrious Could you fill me in on what Laharl must have seen? Or the important stuff he is aware of?
He was present for the first part of the raid on one of the Resistance hideouts, but got annoyed and ditched rather than going underground with the others. Since then, he probably heard that the people he left managed to take down the Resistance, and that the whole this was the fault of the ringleader, who mind-controlled the others into following her orders. The following morning there was a big press release sort of thing detailing the situation to the public, right after which all the PCs (and a number of NPCs) left on the Railway Gun to head for Split Mountain. It's possible that Laharl stowed away and followed behind, which might also mean he meets Ellie, who's also following the team.
@Lugubrious I am back for good, that I can assure you. And being given another chance would be appreciated.
Great. In that case, you can still play as Laharl, or you could try a new character. Due to all the circumstances surrounding his situation however, Frog was lost in the Maw.
@Lugubrious Sorry for the absence, if I could have known I'd have told you. I truly enjoyed this RP. And I'm well aware that I'm out of the RP, but thank you for having me.
Seeing that you're alright eases some of my worries. If it couldn't be helped then I certainly can't blame you. While you are out at the moment, if you think you might be able to be back for good, I'd be happy to extend you a second chance.
The moment that Spindle managed the capture Nick's shadow, the whole thing was a wrap. Everyone with even an ounce of strength to spare joined the assault to lay the hurting down, and none more so than Lorenzo. Despite his complaints about insufficient weaponry, the punkish stranger who sprinted in out of the blue smacked the monster silly with that pipe of his, fighting like he had something to prove. Barney didn't look that gift horse in the mouth, though; with his and Dakota's energy depleted, they needed every strong hand they could get. Besides, if it turned out that the guy spent any more time in this cognitive hellscape than his group, a profound need to vent some pent-up aggression seemed rather understandable.
If Lorenzo expected to actually take this abomination down, however, he was mistaken. Whether through reflection on his own awakening or just solid intuition, Barney knew that nobody's efforts mattered in this confrontation quite so much as Nick's. If Spindle's rushed explanations were to be believed, after all, this was his dark side. The shadow within his own heart, locked up and away from the outside world. Its questions were Nick's to answer, it challenges were his to overcome, and its existence was his to destroy. This thing, he'd realized, seemed to everything wrong with himself, the personfication of the hatred and disgust and anguish deep within, and it needed to go. The young man had already manifested new equipment, the warlike clothes and weaponry that seemingly symbolizes his will to fight, and now, with extreme prejudice, Nick went all the way. With his warhammer he caved in his shadow's cranium in an explosive burst of sticky, chunky tar.
As the remains of its head splattered across the walls of Nick's house, the shadow collapsed in on itself. It sagged and melted like a giant gummy bear left too long in the sun, a defeated and shapeless mass. As it wallowed downward Barney could see Nick behind it, although what exactly the other guy held in his hand, Barney couldn't quite tell. Either way, he could only watch as his new acquaintance crushed the object in his fist. Blue flames swirled outward, washing over Nick before flaring up behind him in a geyser of brilliant light. When it faded, Barney saw nothing at first, but realized after a moment that something stood behind Nick after all--something enormous. Its features and details eluded him completely, other than its poncho and hat, which left the elongated entity so unsettlingly obscure that an inadvertent shiver went down Barney's spine. It seemed more like an actual vengeful spirit than either of the more animalistic Persona's he'd seen so far, but when Nick gave his command, the Dark Watcher complied. It pulverized the remnants of Nick's shadow with a single, unceremonious blow, then disappeared. With it went the barrier of accursed energy all around the makeshift battlefield, leaving the junkyard of lost property worse for wear but finally at peace.
Barney and Dakota moved together to help Nick up, one Persona user under each of their new comrade's arms. "Tell me about it. This stuff takes a lot outta you," the bearded cleric groaned, his own fatigue only worsened by the brief but furious encounter. Nevertheless, he managed to put on a reassuring smile as he clapped a hand on Nick's shoulder. "That aside, you did it, man! Beat the hell outta that freaky thing and got your own Persona. You're one of us now." Saying it like he represented some long-standing, reputable organization was a bit disingenuous, since the Persona-wielding coalition of Rhett & Rynsburger only came into being a few minutes ago, but to Barney it still felt like he'd gained a new brother in arms. Sure, this guy might technically be a stranger to him, but misery makes strange bedfellows, and what they'd already been through seemed like more than enough to plant the seed of a beautiful friendship forged in fire. After going through his own awakening, and hearing snippets of the conflict inherent to Nick's, it sounded like both could use a friend right now.
When a blue glow caught his eye, Barney turned to see Spindle sitting on an overturned wardrobe nearby, arms crossed and a look of approval on her smiling face. "Nice job, fellas! That's one more Persona in the books. Every one y'all get makes it that much more likely you're gettin' outta here in one piece." The police girl turned her attention to Lorenzo, the man of mystery who'd crashed the party at the perfect time. "Howdy! Wasn't tryin' to forget about you or nothin'. Call me Spindle. I reckon you fell through the cracks sometime earlier, huh? Well, I'll be darned. Musta taken a whole lotta gumption to get around by yourself. Still, you oughta buddy up with us for now. More the merrier, right?"
Although Lorenzo's arrival served to further stuff Barney's head with questions, he figured that they could get to the bottom of the situation later. Right now, they had more practical concerns. "More company's great and all, but we're still not out of the woods yet. Do you know where we need to go, Miss Spindle?"
The police girl nodded. "Uh huh. The entrance to the prison. It ain't so well guarded, so as long as we mosey right along the walls, we might be able to slip past." She pointed north through the junkyard, where its miscellaneous heaps thinned and finally came to a stop against another length of chain-link fence. "I'm gonna stay low with y'all so the guard towers don't spot me. Once you got your breath, let's get a move on."
In short order the seven set off along Spindle's prescribed path. With all of them tired from all the action that the Prison of Indictment put them through and three exhausted by their awakenings to boot, they moved slowly and cautiously. Barney could walk well enough by pacing himself and didn't think that reaching the jail's entrance would be an issue, but any run-ins with guards could spell disaster for the group. None of those who met Pondwater face to face could forget the others who disappeared during or after the mad dash through the Proving Grounds, either. Even for their eye in the sky there had been no further sightings of Alina, Harriette, Jin, or Mila. Barney wanted to believe that they could make it on their own, especially after finding out Lorenzo apparently did just that, but this 'cognitive world' was honestly ridiculous. If not for a whole lot of help and a serious streak of luck, he probably wouldn't be around, either. Still, whatever the odds might be, Barney kept an eye out for any sign of the four whenever he scanned his surroundings for guards.
After a good while and a couple close calls, Barney, Dakota, Nick, Caelum, Vincent, Lorenzo, and Spindle reached the prison entrance. Throughout the journey Barney had wondered why exactly the police girl would conclude that their best chance of escape lay at what was probably the prison's most-guarded area, but seeing it for himself explained a lot. Instead of a rode with gates, the great walls bordered a large chasm in the ground, its sheer walls extending a good fifty feet downward to the surface of the river in its depths. As the canyon went further into the prison it got shallower, creating a multi-tiered series of rapids and low waterfalls that spilled outward from an immense reflecting pool at ground level, which appeared to go all the way to the dreadful courthouse in the place's center. The whole spectacle confused Barney until his stealthy procession got closer, nearing the guard booth on the near side of the chasm. Then, a fresh wave of despicable symbolism became clear to him. A bridge crossed the reflecting pool right at the edge of the first waterfall, and a number of shadows crouched atop it, twice as large as any seen so far and wielding huge, shiny fishing rods. Dressed to the nines in flashy, formal attire and wearing big, toothy smiles on their otherwise featureless black faces, the creatures baited their hooks with certificates and degrees before casting their lures into the water below. When Barney looked down, he saw people down in the water, seemingly normal except for the belts, chains, and other such restraints that bound them, forcing them to twist their bodies to swim in a sickeningly fishlike fashion. As Barney looked on, aghast, the people attempted to launch themselves upstream in order to get at the shadows' bait, and the moment any of them happened to grab onto a hook, the shadow whisked the victim up out of the river and into a waiting cage the size of a cargo container to flop and squirm among the rest of its catch.
"Eugh." Barney shudder, trying to shut out the appalling scene on the basis of it not being real. He and the others had taken refuge behind a couple parked vehicles not too far from either the chasm edge or the guard booth, but a couple sentries stood in their way both in and outside the checkpoint. Many more hung around the chasm railing, spectators who would come running at the first sign of trouble. Even if it was neither intended nor expected that prisoners would pass this way, security remained tighter than anyone would have liked. "What now?" he asked. "Are we gonna try to sneak through 'em? Distract 'em? What about the others? They're still in here somewhere. We can't just leave 'em, right?"
Spindle's face betrayed her uncertainty. "...I know," she murmured, pointedly keeping her voice down. "I don't wanna leave 'em, but we ain't exactly fit to scour the place. I wanna say just hunker down here for a bit while I fly up to try an' find 'em, but if we get caught, our goose is cooked." She tried to take stock of all the guards watching the fishing jamboree, but only managed to come up with 'too many to count'. Her Odradek could disable a couple enemies, but based on her testimony couldn't do much against a horde of the things, and the other Persona users couldn't fight right now either. Barney took deep breaths, trying to think of something. This was quite the pickle.
With everything the Seekers faced thus far, from undead hordes to rampant machines to criminal organizations to cosmic horrors, it seemed almost comical that the danger presented to them by the canyon raceway seemed to be nothing more extraordinary than reckless racers. Still, taking a bike to the face at seventy-plus miles per hour, let alone a Goron, was no laughing matter, and the group buckled down for a grueling slog uphill through the dusty, windswept streets of the Redstone City.
After the fourth collision it became clear to Tora that going against the flow of Riders would demand not just constant vigilance and terrific reflexes, but also a steadier hand than he had. As much as he wanted to be the cool guy shrugging off impact after impact as if they were no more than leaves in the wind, his aching wing told him that he couldn’t keep this up forever even if he swapped his shield arm. Every blow against his shield would jar and numb him that much more, and sooner or later his poise would be so shot that another strike would blow his defense wide open and send him bouncing down the mountain like those spherical, white-furred Shiverians. Hiking uphill took it out of the Nopon inventor, Riders or no Riders, and having to repeat even the easiest part of the climb sounded absolutely awful. “Poppi, we need change tactics! Switch to QT mode for evasion!”
The artificial blade nodded, but before she could change she boosted to the right to avoid a whooping, bearded man on skis. Right after passing her, the guy tripped over a rock all on his own, went flying like a propeller, and slammed into a tree only to fizzle right back onto the ground, right as rain, and continue on his way. “Poppi was wondering how long it take Masterpon to tire of getting slammed by cyclists. Happened sooner than Poppi thought.”
Waving his free wing to clear out some dust thrown in his fast by the skier, Tora gave her an incredulous look. “Wait, Poppi already think of doing this? Why not say so sooner?”
His companion smiled. “It look to Poppi like Masterpon want to keep proving how tough he is. Poppi not want rain on Masterpon’s parade.” Before Tora could rebuke her, she began her transformation, reconfiguring into her more agile QT mode in a centrifugal pirouette of scarlet ribbons and orange sparks. Tora looked over at Braum as if to say can you believe her?, but the giant only chuckled as he stepped up to give them cover. With a much larger stature and a much heavier shield, the Heart of the Freljord could do a lot more to defend the team from the multisport menace.
Not far away, Big Band and Peacock seemed to be taking a more proactive approach. After trying to parry a couple Riders and not seeing the dividends he would have wanted from such a risky maneuver, Band made the pragmatic choice of taking the racers’ ability to restore themselves to heart and just punching them instead. With their armor and range his Brass Knuckles could pulverize the bikes of any Riders foolish enough to not swerve out of the vintage virtuoso’s way. Nobody he struck down even seemed to react to getting hit, and of course they blipped back to normal the next moment. Peacock happily followed his example, sending out George Bombs ahead of her to blow incoming Riders out of the way. At one point, a small pack of them detonated all of her bombs at once, leaving a long Rider hurtling straight for her. Peacock just snickered, then pulled her hat down around her head. A hole opened up in the dirt directly in front of the offending racer’s bike, through which her metal teeth extended from her wide-open mouth like a bear trap. It snapped shut on the bike’s tire the next instant, causing the Rider to flip forward and slam straight into the ground. Her bike practically exploded, although it reappeared in one piece right after. Back to normal, Peacock flicked a cigar at the woman as she cycled on by, then dusted off her gloves with a jagged grin. “What a maroon!”
The others dealt with the cavalcade of riders in their own ways. Naturally, the lucky few just flew right over it all, watching the chaos below like pinballs bouncing around in a machine, but the rest needed to employ quick reflexes, quicker thinking, and no small amount of strategy. Going straight up the central avenue through the region, where the various routes through the network of canyons tended to converge, offered the most room for evasion and the best visibility, but it also guaranteed the most traffic. Packing into one of the smaller sandstone corridors off the beaten track, meanwhile, meant a trade-off of fewer Riders but worse conditions for dealing with them. Once Tora, headed up the main path with most of the others, realized how unfeasible it was to physically block the avalanche of racers headed his way, Jesse stepped up to take over defense, and Midna lent a hand. Her telekinesis created a mobile wall of safety for her team that the average Rider could only crash against, but not every reckless daredevil headed her way was created equal.
“Look out belooooooow!” came a boisterous bellow, accompanied by a thunderous rumble growing louder by the second. A Goron, nearly half a ton of rigid stone and muscle curled up into a living boulder, came rolling straight for the procession of heroes. Unable to control his own path in the slightest, the unstoppable force bore down on Jesse’s telekinetic barrier. As impressive as the FBC director’s supernatural feats had been, none could rightfully predict whether or not her defense would hold out against a head-on collision with what might as well have been an out-of-control truck, but luckily they didn’t get the chance to find out. Sectonia added a little magic to the mix, creating a crystalline ramp to send the formidable Goron up and over her teammates, protecting them from harm.
“Nice save!” Necronomicon commended the bee queen. Hovering above the action not too far from Sectonia gave both the Persona and her passenger Mona a bird’s-eye view of the commotion below. “Hope you’ve got more where that came from, though. Raz is right, it doesn’t look like this place is running out of Riders anytime soon. We should hurry!”
Mona crawled over to the edge of Necronomicon’s top and peered down into the canyon paths. “There’s gotta be a better way to do this that doesn’t involve a massive detour,” he muttered, surveying the scene through squinted eyes. His gears turned for a couple moments as he watched the Seekers continue to defend and dodge below. Then something clicked, and his eyes went wide. “Wait, duh! Hey, guys!” he shouted down. “Quit fighting through the trenches and get up on top! It’ll take more jumping and you’ll need to be careful not to fall, but there are pretty much no Riders up here!”
Down where they’d taken cover behind a few stacks of tires, Joker, Skull, Panther, and Fox exchanged sheepish glances. Panther broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Hahah...we probably should’ve thought of that already, huh? Guess we’re all a little short on brain juice today.”
“Man!” Annoyed more at himself than anything, Skull rubbed his head, ruffling his croppy yellow hair in the process. “This kinda crap is why we need Makoto.”
“Perhaps Oracle was right when she joked about us four sharing one brain cell,” Fox commiserated, sounding gloomy.
Joker jumped up onto the tires, then hopped over to a ledge on the nearby cliff. “We can laugh about it later. Let’s get going.”
The Phantom Thieves wasted no time scaling the canyon wall. Since the precarious narrow high roads, with neither walls nor railing to safeguard the edges, were especially difficult to navigate on any vehicle, not even the most daring Riders stayed up there to endanger the Seekers for long. Tora followed suit, rocket-jumping with his Mech Arms and a little help from Poppi, while Peacock teleported up through the use of a portable hole. That didn’t stop her from continuing to throw George Bombs down into the action, of course. With the high road looking a little too narrow and fragile to accommodate his size, Band remained down below alongside Braum, where they took one of the side paths to minimize contact with Riders, even as Braum’s fellow Lakeside refugee the Scout zipped right up to the top. “A to D, skippin’ B and C!”
With the going neither quick nor easy for anyone no matter which path they chose, except of course for the cheating fliers, it was close to an hour before the Seekers finally put the Redstone City in their rear-view mirrors. When they reached the top of the labyrinthine sandstone raceway, and all the arches, columns, and crevices finally gave way to more ordinary terrain, they quickly discovered the source of their frustration. Being the frontrunner, Fox was the first to see the startling line he predicted, albeit more expansive than he expected and flanked on either side by a wooden platform that sported a fluttering orange and teal banner. As he watched, Riders appeared out of thin air on top of those platforms in a constant stream, each barely even stopping to get his or her bearings before heading over to the starting line. In the time that first Seekers to arrive spent taking a breather and waiting for the rest to catch up, the starting horn signalled the launch of not one, not two, but three new Mass Races, each with between sixty and a hundred participants. A few riders loafed around, doing tricks and such, but most exhibited a single-minded fixation on the main event. With the whole concept of Ferrystones still fresh on the brain, Big Band plodded over to examine the flag platforms that the Riders used to warp in, but could determine nothing special about it. If this constituted a fast-travel point, it seemed to be one exclusive to these bizarre sportspeople--if people they even were.
“Everyone okay?” Tora asked, waddling between the various members of the group to check on them, accompanied by Poppi all the while. Even if he couldn’t heal any injuries they may have sustained, he and his companion offered what they could, be that water refills or moral support. The Nopon made extra sure to visit the group’s newest additions Raz and Therion, eager to start them on the road to friendship. “Doing good so far!” he told them. “If friend ever need hand, just call Tora!” A wink and a thumbs-up sealed the deal as far as he was concerned.
Before long everyone had reconvened at the rest area by the starting line. Everyone was hot, dusty, and at least a little bruised or battered, but mostly okay. Already the ambient temperature had grown temperate, which came as a welcome change from the brutal heat of the desert floor. Some ice from Poppi and Sectonia’s antlion’s, along with water from the canteens, helped cool the heroes the rest of the way down and get them ready for the next leg of the journey. Looking back made it clear that they’d already come a pretty long way, both vertically and horizontally. The colors of Tostarena Town already seemed quite distant. When the party turned their gaze back toward the mountain, they could see the snowline not too far off, with white-capped redwoods nestled among crags peering down at them across a sloped field of rocks and low-lying plants. “Making progress, meh!” Tora chirped, trying to be positive despite the immense amount of journey still in store for them. Once suitably refreshed, he and Poppi set off once more.
The trip up through the field of rocks offered no more peril than the occasional shifting stone underfoot, although the heroes did glimpse some wildlife here and there close to the ground. Sandshrews and Diglets poked up from their burrows on occasion, while here and there a woeful-looking Silicobra snaked between the rocks, steering clear of the Diggersbies that lorded over the place with smug looks on their chubby-cheeked faces. Bit by bit they got closer to the redwood-masked cliff edge whose elevation change marked Split Mountain’s snowline, the air growing cooler and more crisp as they climbed. By the time that the rocks finally gave way to rugged grass beneath the boughs of towering redwood trees, Tora was huffing and puffing all over again from the exertion of clambering up and over rocks with such stubby legs. He couldn’t afford to just plop down in the shade and relax, however--not with that strange, heavy, breathy noise echoing through the trees, rising and falling like the tide. Better to be safe rather than sorry, the party hiked a short way farther in search of the source, crunching through autumnal life litter amidst the megalithic forest. On the way Band kept an eye on the cliff face, but found no means of ascent or entry that might grant them access to the winter wonderland above and beyond. Once the group finally tracked down the source of the noise it took them a moment to process what they were seeing, although as always Skull seemed happy to state the obvious for everyone. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, trying and failing for obvious reasons to keep his voice down. “That’s the biggest freakin’ bear I’ve ever seen!”
Out from what could only be a tunnel through the solid stone poked the head of an enormous brown bear, sound asleep. Big Band realized that the sound everyone heard must have been its snoring, loud enough to fill the mountain slope for miles. Dollops of snow lay on top of its head as well as the earth around him, but neither the cold nor the noise of the newcomers seemed to bother him one bit. No matter if they shouted in his ears or bopped him on the snout, in fact, the bear just snoozed on peacefully, the steady inhale and exhale sending whirls of leaves up into the air with each breath. His only reaction to anything seemed to be a slight twitch when leaves brushed against his big, black nose.
At that point the group could disperse through the clearing, able to relax and ruminate on options and alternatives. “If we could get him to wake up and move, we might have an easy way through to the next part of the mountain,” the detective observed. “Trouble is, I don’t think we wanna start a fight, so what’re we gonna do to rouse him?” He glanced at Peacock, who looked like she had an idea, and shook his head to shoot her down without so much as a word in. The girl pouted, crossing her spindly metal arms in a huff.
Just as Nadia hoped, Ace used the myriad of boons given to him to the fullest. Wielding his exquisite blade with the power granted by Kamek, he took advantage of the vulnerable state that Nadia and Junior left the Shark Giant in, and like that one chef back in the Maw’s ghoulish kitchens carved through the sea monster’s scaly flesh with lethal precision. Nadia joined in, wielding her own tail as a sword to hack away at the monster while it struggled, though rather than be blinded by the prospect of revenge, she made sure to steer clear of Ace’s wide-range longsword swings. In a few short moments the intractable fishman lay in malodorous chunks, soon to dissolve, and the Cadet spited what little remained by crushing its spirit straightaway.
You have acquired: Sharq Attack An unusual, albeit novel, weapon composed of a dead sharq stiffened by rigor mortis (and pelagicite ore) plus a no-swimming sign, wielded as a lance and shield. Though its sheer size and top-heavy weight distribution make it unwieldy even by Monster Hunter standards, it puts out appreciable damage with bonus water attack, plus an attractive fifteen percent critical hit chance and blue sharpness on its teeth
Already soaked, Nadia saw no harm in sitting down, leaning back on her arms as the last of her grievous injury faded away. Her chest heaved as she tried to calm her pounding heart. When Ace asked if she was okay, she flashed him a smile. “Yeah, I’m alright.” The Life Gem was truly an incredible thing. A punctured lung in a place like this would typically mean certain death, either through bleeding out, suffocation, both, or infectious disease that followed in the wake of injury, but she’d gotten off with just unbearable agony. Right about now, Nadia’s numbness came as a real blessing. Ace’s lifepowder helped chase away the last of her pain. “Aw, you’re sweet,” she purred, bumping her shoulder against his. “For real, thanks. That got pretty intense for a moment, huh? Just goes to show, it’s true what they say.“ She shot him a mischievous look. “You can tune a guitar, but you can’t tuna fish.” After Ace took a moment to ask a favor of Kamek, the four headed for the hole in the wall to take stock of the situation outside.
The fighting throughout the village center raged on, but cooperation between the scattered heroes appeared to be giving them the edge they needed against their ruthless aquatic adversaries. Naturally, this bore the most fruit against the murloc rabble that had emerged to complicate the various fights around the contested plaza with shameless potshots and vicious attacks of opportunity, forcing a few of the Seekers to prioritize their elimination above all else. Spurred onward by the chance to finally take revenge against the monsters that wiped out his crewmates, Delsin did well for himself despite the abysmal circumstances. His chains whipped against the fishmen as effective crowd control, even if his flames mostly sizzled and turned to steam thanks to both pouring rain and sodden targets. While he got their attention Bowser mopped them up, putting his varied arsenal to work to methodically take down murloc after murloc with cannons, water cutters, poison, tooth, claw, and brute strength. Though he took a number of hits from their seastone tridents, fishbone weaponry, and harpoons, his rampage continued unabated. The few fishmen that managed to escape him fell victim to Rika’s bombardment, and when the fighting concluded Blazermate cleaned up, creating foul thralls from murloc corpses in tandem with cheerfully mending her allies’ wounds.
The efforts of the four to keep the murloc mooks from troubling their allies allowed Link to put all his focus into the fight with Tidehunter, a duel that demanded both his utmost strength and ingenuity. What Leviathan lacked in straightforward stopping power he made up for in cunning and debilitation, making him less easy to take advantage of compared to the near-mindless Shark Giants, and more dangerous to underestimate. The Hero of the Wild not being decimated by Tidehunter’s anchor smash was a relief, but it took only a couple hits for Link and Peach to realize where the monster’s true strength lay. A blast from the princess’s scatterboom already barely put a dent in her opponent, but a cut to her attack power made her shots downright pitiable. Unbeknown to Peach, something about Tidehunter’s hide negated a flat amount of damage from every attack, which applied separately to each of her shotgun pellets, reducing her output to basically zero. In the heat of battle she couldn’t tell what exactly was going on, but it became clear nonetheless that she needed to try something else. Tidehunter was in his element, and had the two right where he wanted them.
While she backed off to wait out the debuffs and figure something out, Link battened down the hatches. He wasn’t about to let this overgrown fish rope him into this lopsided battle of attrition. This was a formidable opponent, possessing not just a power but a plan, yet he lacked finesse. With eyes narrowed to guard against the stinging rain, Link bided his time, defending with ice as well as his blade, until finally his ship came in. When Tidehunter overcommitted, Link slowed down time to unleash his withering counterattack. His dancing blade aglow with the flash of lightning overhead, as he slashed again and again, cutting deeper and deeper, until his sword itself gave up the ghost. As it exploded into shards of light the flow of time resumed, and Levithan’s guttural cry heralded the splash of his anchor into the water. He fought to avoid floundering, found his footing on the slimy bottom of the basin, and lunged forward to crush Link between his jaws, but the Hero was already in motion. His own anchor, dredged up from below by Link’s magnesis, dealt him a sickening uppercut. At that moment Peach leaped from the water’s surface, whirled through the air with the grace of a dancing crane, and with an elegant spin kick launched a torpedo directly into Tidehunter’s cranium.
Its explosion filled Leviathan's vision with stars, and for a moment, punished both from above and below, he staggered. But the Champion of the Sunken Isles would not be done in so easily. His bellow filled the drenched arena as he executed a titanic lariat, pushing through the water with his sheer bulk to send up a mighty wave. The disturbance was enough to knock his foes back despite their shipgirl infusions, and in the moment afforded to him, Tidehunter pounded his fists into the basin floor. Instantly, a ring of tentacles erupted from the solid stone around him, each like a fleshy geyser and strong enough to launch just about anyone into the air. He seized hold of his anchor with his other hand and surged forward to smash Link back down into the ground. As Peach soared she felt a surge of helplessness, but only for a moment--she remembered how Nadia managed her own aerial momentum during the fight aboard Shippy. The princess took hold of Chao Ho’s greatsword-sized fan, wheeled around, and kicked off it midair to send herself into a headlong dive. “Yaaaaaah!” The next moment she struck home with a torpedo-powered axe kick into Tidehunter’s head right where her first explosive softened him up, stopping him in his tracks. Around him the outward rings of tentacles continued to wreak havoc throughout the basin, but Peach kept her attention on the task at hand. Memories of the fight in the Paved Wilderness guided her hand as she grabbed hold of the monster’s fin and focused Grimm’s soul-harvesting power, trying to reach into his body and draw out the spirit within. She took hold and started to pull, straining terribly as he fought her every step of the way, until finally his spirit appeared from his body, radiant with prismatic light that shone through the gloom across the entire basin. Though she planned to shoot it or something, the spirit was like a heavy-duty spring pulled to its limit, and it was all she could do to keep the spirit out. Luckily, she had a hero on hand adept in the art of lethal finishers. “Link!” she growled the clenched teeth. “Do it!”
Not too far away, the tone of Sakura’s fight against the Sea Crawlers had shifted, even with the sudden abduction of the one she called Clammy by Bella. Grotesque and animalistic as they might look, the monsters worked as a capable team; if they weren’t double teaming the street fighter in a double-pronged assault of amphibious might and electrical mayhem, one was shielding the other. It ended up feeling almost like a tag-team match, similar to how she’d seen the popular wrestling R. Mika fight alongside her partner Nadeshiko, but with a lot more oceanic magic in the mix. Bruises, electrical burns, and gashes were accumulating across her body and limbs. Still, Sakura used Arashio’s mobility to fight them toe to toe, deftly avoiding being put into a blender between the troublesome pair, and she landed her fair share of blows. The battle of attrition continued until, with no warning, Clammy’s head erupted from the water right by Sakura’s feet. At the sight of its open mouth and lolling green tongue she braced herself for a surprise attack, but none came. Instead Bella pushed up from below, shoving Clammy’s severed head to the side. Though soaked to the bone and sporting a few new bite marks, the Water Princess looked pleased, both with herself for expertly eliminating one Sea Crawler and with Sakura for hanging in there. “I’m here, mon cherie!” she practically sang, oblivious to Crabby as he charged at her from behind. Before he reached the Seaplane Tender’s monstrous tail burst up from underwater once more and sank its fangs into its unprotected bicep. Bella glanced backward just long enough to make sure she had a good grip before she fired. Before the Sea Crawler knew it, it lay on its back against the rocks, its arm blown off by the blast and sent flying clear across the plaza. Bella rose from the water to stand on its surface alongside Sakura, ready to rush the dizzied crab and isolated eel-ectric down. “Let’s put zese ugly things to rest!”
Meanwhile, Geralt’s struggle against Fizz continued to worsen. Try as he might, the Witcher just couldn’t seem to hit the slippery little squirt, and his prodigious size was quickly revealing the danger of inordinate exsanguination. His Strikers and his bomb managed to do some damage, but nothing decisive, and every moment spent fighting meant more blood lost. Still, as bad as the situation seemed to be, every problem had its solution. Though used to working alone and not without his pride, Geralt made the pragmatic choice to call for backup rather than doggedly keep at it. And Barely had he called for help then a friendly face appeared.
“I got your back!” Mirage called, cruising forward over the water with his pistol drawn. Fizz turned with annoyed scowl and without a like of hesitation hurled a little orange fish at the interloper. With the fight against Geralt going well, he chose to let fly his ultimate ability and Chum the Waters to dispose of his opponent’s reinforcement in one fell swoop. Once it hit the legend, he had only a scant few seconds to make peace with whatever he believed in before a megalodon would emerge from below and chomp him in half. But the bait passed right through Mirage, causing him to flicker and Fizz to blink in confusion. The hologram disappeared to reveal the real Mirage immersed in the water at the fake’s feet, grinning as he brought the barrel of his trusty Wingman out of the water. “Bamboozled!”
The shot rang out and Fizz balked, shot straight in the chest by Mirage’s revolver. The legend got off a second and third shot into the shocked trickster before Hat Kid footstooled off his head and leaped straight for her target, fists extended like a superhero in flight. Fizz dodged to the side only for Hatty to hook a sharp left mid-air and bop him right on the head anyway. As she bounced off, the girl latched on to one of his tentacles with her umbrella’s grappling hook, then soared up and over the frame of the well. “Whee!” From there she dropped straight down, becoming a counterweight that yanked Fizz off his feet and left him hanging above the well. From there, all it took from the Witcher was a well-placed chop from his silver sword to slice the irksome creature twain. As he dissolved, Hatty's hook latched onto the well frame instead, preventing her from falling any further into its depths.
That left just one major foe to deal with: the Judicator. Spinal and his Dhelmise, however, seemed to need no assistance. With the monster a captive audience thanks to its anchor chain around its waist, the Pokemon bombarded it from afar with Shadow Ball and Energy Ball, while the skeleton pirate carved up the body. His scimitar cut around its teal chitin armor and into its verminous purplish meat, or into the wan, sagging flesh of its human half. The Judicator couldn’t keep up with Spinal’s frenetic swordplay, especially with skeleports in the mix. When it attempted to use its trump card and unleash ghastly azure fire from its scales, Spinal brought his wriggle octopus shield up in a defensive stance and absorbed the damage, which his Power Devour converted into green skulls that he shot right back. With the punishment already sustained by Geralt’s efforts, and no minions around to empower, the Judicator was doomed. Spinal finished the fight in decisive fashion with a leap onto its back, where he lopped off one head, then the other, then finally carved its torso straight down the middle, laughing all the while. His Dhelmise then pulled tight its chain, severing what remained of the abomination’s brutalized humanoid torso. The rest of it sagged to the ground, limp, to become a wet pile of ashy sludge.
After that...nothing. The fishing village was quiet, except for the low roar of the surface and the steady murmur of rain against wood and water. Everyone gathered around the well, where the injured reported to Blazermate and Kamek for treatment. No casualties, although with the shacks full of nothing but rot and gunk their only souvenirs -apart from the spirits of the slain- would be their newfound stress and fatigue, and those wouldn’t be healed as easily as the heroes’ bodies.
A small voice echoed up from the well as Hatty ascended, drawn upward by the retraction of her grappling hook. She swung her legs and hopped over the rim, where she waved for everyone’s attention. Once she got it, she pointed downward, indicating that her top hat was telling her that the team’s next objective lay at the bottom of the well, beneath the basin that formed the epicenter of not just the village, but the entire detestable island. Those who remembered seeing the Judicator emerge from it could scarcely relish the thought of encountering more eldritch horrors down below, although on second thought maybe it came as a stroke of luck that the Koopa Troop’s clamor had drawn the monster out of a potential ambush. Nadia wiped rainwater from her eyes as she shivered from the cold. “Well, if that’s the way, then that’s where we oughta go. Anywhere that gets meowtta this damn rain is good in my book.” Realizing that she’d just sworn in front of two entire children, she chose not to elaborate on her feelings any further.
Peach nodded. “Hopefully we’ll have a moment to get ourselves together down there, but like as not we’ll run into more trouble, so everyone stay on your toes. Let’s go.” With any brave volunteers in the lead, the party climbed down the ladder, one person at a time. Being large enough to divulge the sizable Judicator, it admitted even Bowser and Geralt without a problem, and despite widespread doubts the wooden ladder held long enough for each and every hero to get to the bottom.
The ladder took the Seekers down into a grotto of shiny smooth stone, eroded to a moist polish by countless years of flowing water. It featured a great many natural pillars, and strange formations hung down from the ceiling which Nadia found herself not wanting to look too closely at. Despite the grotto’s ankle-deep water, it provided plenty of room for the heroes to get out from the rain and try to dry themselves at least a little. It offered no real danger either, since while more sea maggots littered it and there appeared to be at least two clusters of jellyshrooms, the newcomers could avoid them without difficulty. The most striking feature of the grotto lay on its easter side, where one of the walls abruptly opened up into another cave. It seemed more spacious and well-lit than this one, with a wooden railing to boot, but only when Nadia sauntered over to lean over the balcony did she realize how much larger it was.
With wide eyes she stared down into a gigantic, roughly cylindrical cavern with a floor blanketed in its near-entirety by a carpet of corpse-white sea slugs. The bulbous things lay heaped wall to net-covered wall, masked in places by crude walkways and stairways of rotted wooden planks and illuminated by braziers where more of the creatures burned. Among them were a few handfuls of spiral shells, like the sea maggots but a lot bigger, and the pale shapes that extruded from them seemed to Nadia almost disturbingly human. The nets stretched up all the way to the second floor where she stood aghast, that floor being a strictly manmade affair of wood that circumnavigated the cavern’s upper reaches. To the feral’s further incredulity the whole affair extended a good distance, after which it split into a few branching paths around a single, fog-covered opening. It was a lot to take in. “Good gravy,” she breathed, wrinkling her nose. “And here I thought the last place smelled bad!” She retreated from the edge to give the others a chance to see, wondering just what in the world they’d gotten themselves into.
The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, and the Skullgirl
Content to bring up the rear, Albedo followed Linkle and Frisk in observant silence as the three neared the shadowed mansion, his corgi trotting right by his heels. Considering the possible perils that might endanger an unwary animal on this trail, he had harbored second thoughts on bringing his dog along for the climb, but the faithful creature seemed almost as determined to see this task through as Frisk. Unwilling to remain on Linkle’s sled, he made the ascent under his own power, assuring his owner in short order that he had nothing to fear. Those short, stubby legs meant that the dog would have to tackle any snow drifts literally head-on, but none arose to block his path, and he steered well clear of the cliff edge as the path wound upward. In fact, the little guy kept just behind Albedo and to the left, as if constantly herding him away from the precipice. The alchemist couldn’t help but smile as he watched the adorable beast patter along. Treat must have left quite the impression, he thought.
Only when they pushed through the mansion’s wrought-iron gates, making it scream in protest, did the corgi’s ears flatten somewhat against his head in momentary, involuntary fear. Even if such a thing was to be expected of metal left exposed to the elements long term, the sudden, piercing creak came as something of a shock. As the trio proceeded through and across its frost-coated yard, Linkle regaled the others with a legend from her own world’s history that told of another isolated manor atop another frigid peak. She described it as the home of not just a wholesome yeti couple, but also a certain resident evil, which given the current situation begged the question. “Spooky, hm?” Albedo gave the mansion another once-over. It certainly lacked color and outward signs of life, an austere dwelling of antiquated make where old things once and perhaps still lived, neglected but still a long way from falling to decrepitude. He could find no more traditionally off-putting spectacles like the hanging dolls in the deadwood grove, although now that he looked he could see smoke rising from the chimney to spiral up into the gray-white heavens, a dark stream leading to a turbulent sea. “I suppose it does have that sort of feel about it,” he admitted, picturing skeletal hands pulling back those second-floor curtains to leer down at the new arrivals with vacant sockets. “The evidence would suggest that there is nothing in store for us but Treat, however, and phantoms seem to be the least of her concerns.”
After everyone got their gifts ready, the Skullgirl rapped her knuckles against the mansion’s door, loud and clear. Albedo stood back, present in hand, to give the more genial and welcoming members of his party the spotlight. Given Linkle’s track record and Frisk’s irrepressibly amiable attitude, he saw no reason to believe that they would encounter any trouble showing the wolfgirl that they meant no harm, or even brightening her day, for that matter. In a way the alchemist almost felt guilty; despite being neither a physical or psychological oddity, poor Treat lived alone, and unwanted, unnoticed save for the rabbit-folk whose perennial intolerance evidently brought her constant misery, while he found himself with more undeserved kindness and companionship than he knew what to do with. The affection and care she showed for his corgi stood as all the proof Albedo needed of Treat’s compassionate nature, hidden away like the rest of her beneath the invisibility cloak of introversion. Even if he couldn’t repay the people around him for the consideration given to him, he could pay it forward by helping out this lonely wolf as much as humanly possible.
By Albedo’s calculations, Treat couldn’t have been back for long. She moved quickly, with fear lending wings to her feet, but her pursuers, powered by righteous conviction, followed nearly as fast. The alchemist only hoped that the wolfgirl didn’t conceive of the situation as a chase, hole herself up in her house, and pretend not to hear Linkle’s knocks. The thought of the so-called ‘predator’ fleeing and hiding in fear from her supposed ‘prey’ struck Albedo as exceedingly ironic. Before long, however, his posse’s patience was rewarded. Just a few moments passed before there came the muffled sound of footsteps headed for the front door. A click came from the lock, and with tentative slowness the door slid open for Treat’s face to poke through. When she found Linkle and Frisk with big presents and bigger smiles, her look of trepidation turned to confusion. “H-huh? What do you want?”
The newcomers did not mince words making their intentions clear, doing their best to reassure the flighty wolf that, beyond the shadow of a doubt, they bore her no ill intentions. As they spoke they offered their gifts, which she dumbly accepted as she stood in the threshold lacking any idea of how to deal with the situation. Nevertheless, she did not run away, but listened to her visitors talk. A little explanation, as well as the affirmation of the more familiar faces among the three, sufficed to explain that Linkle just happened to be a newcomer with rabbit ears rather than a member of the reproachable local population. The double offer of presents from beneath Snowdin’s Christmas tree sealed the deal, and when Treat realized her mistake she turned red from embarrassment. “Gahh, I’m so sorry!” she moaned, burying her face in her hands. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Judging you ‘cause you’re a rabbit...well, I’m no better than the others judging me for who I am.”
Of course, that prompted another round of consolation, with even Albedo joining in. “Please, think nothing of it,” he told her. “And if I may, don’t think yourself akin to your persecutors. While it would seem that their unprompted animosity has conditioned you toward self-preservation, you have done nobody any harm. The same cannot, however, be said for them.” He waved his hand as if to dismiss the thought of rabbits from her mind. “But there’s no need to worry. We did not come here to make you feel bad, but to try to make you feel better. Maybe you would like to open your presents?”
Treat sniffed, the words of her visitors making her eyes glisten. “Yes, yes,” she mumbled before clearing her throat. After wiping her eyes, she pushed back through the door. “Come in, this way.”
She led the way through the house, rather nice despite the dolls scattered around and a singular, rather ghastly portrait, but surprisingly cold. In terms of temperature, Albedo could discern no meaningful difference between the interior and the brisk, winter-gripped mountain outside. After closing the door behind them, Treat brought her visitors through the parlor and into the living room on the opposite side, where a single fireplace smouldered with flame. Being the only source of light and heat in the whole place it naturally drew the eye, and on its mantle Albedo found a plaque whose inscription read Little Inferno Entertainment Fireplace, as well as the logo of a company called Tomorrow Corporation. In front of it lay a big sleeping bag covered in patches, stuffed with pillows and blankets like an over-filled burrito. A cookpot sat beside the fire alongside a spitroast, with a small stack of plates and utensils nearby, and on the other side stood a handful of cardboard boxes also from Tomorrow Corporation. Albedo took in the whole scene with a solemn expression. All of a sudden it made sense as to why a disheveled, depressed wolfgirl might be possessed of such a fancy mansion with such striking decor both inside and out. She didn’t so much as live in it, let alone own it, as just camp inside of it--she amounted to no more than a hermit, or even less elegantly put a squatter, a spurned girl in a spurned place. And yet, she didn’t seem to have cannibalized the place, turning anything and everything to her own well-being. Instead it looked as though she’d tried to take care of it, as much as she could. The realization made the alchemist look at her in a new light.
“Um, just a, just a moment…” Treat put down the gifts, then went to open one of the boxes. Unable to suppress the urge to peer in, Albedo risked a peek and discovered a wealth of janky-looking toys inside. Treat took a couple and tossed them in the fireplace, where they immediately caught fire and blazed with sudden vigor. “There,” Treat sighed, sitting down by the fire with her legs crossed. She stared at her guests, still uncomfortable, and waved awkwardly at the couches. “Uh, y-you know, sit anywhere. Best by the fire, though. I’m, um, well, sorry about...this place. Could be better. Could be worse, I mean, yeah…” She trailed off, staring at the floor.
Albedo sat against one couch, not too far from the fire. “Thank you for inviting us in. I think you’ve done well for yourself,” he remarked. “My camp in Dragonspine is far colder and more meager, all things considered.”
The statement took Treat by surprise. “O-oh, really?” She pulled one hand away from the fire to scratch at her neck. “Well, if you’re still cold, I have more fuel for the fire.” As the group watched, one of the toys in the fire burned out, but from its charred corpse sprang a handful of yellow coins. Treat collected them all and added them to a small pile next to a Little Inferno catalogue. Albedo’s endeavor to connect the dots left him wondering how a company that put enough money to buy its products inside its products stayed in business, but if this bizarre perpetual system meant that Treat could stay warm, he decided not to question it.
Once she warmed her fingers up, Treat commenced the opening of her presents. She handled them gingerly, almost reverently, as if she couldn’t believe they were really hers. From the Kreidprinz’ gift she exhumed a tasty-looking fun snack set, within the Skullgirl’s she discovered a darkly beautiful Black Shawl, and inside the Fallen Child’s offering she found the quintessential Bonk Helm along with a pack of Nuka Cola to use it with. The sight of it made Albedo’s brows rise. “An article of headgear that dispenses drink? How clever.” Unable to tell if the presents were good or not, he watched Treat’s expression warily.
He needn’t have worried, however. “I...I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, and...and I don't know what to say,” Treat sniffed, her eyes watery again. This time, it looked as though the floodgates might burst at any second. “But...thank you, thank all of you! I d-didn’t think that, that anyone cared. It’s been so long since...since I’ve felt this happy!” Despite her best attempts to staunch the flow, puffy-cheeked, she broke out into a fit of ugly crying. Albedo looked on, not quite sure how to respond. Was what the newcomers did really that impactful? Anyone could take a gift from under the tree and pass it on, after all. Just how lonely was this girl?!
Albedo's intuition proved to be spot-on, although he also found out that the list of people who wanted to help out poor Treat went beyond himself and Linkle. In fact, the kid who'd just a moment ago been snug in the alchemist's booth with his dog did not hesitate to spring from their seat, then march straight for Grillby's front door with palpable determination. Whether through latent strength, the force of the wind outside, or both, the small child practically threw open the front door, and a shiver-inducing cold front blew through the establishment. Just short of plunging back outside into winter's chill, however, they stopped to look back at the teens currently extracting themselves from the booth to follow suit, and offered an introduction.
Frisk, the alchemist repeated in his head. An odd name even in this World of Light, not for unfamiliarity but for being an ordinary word, and not one typically associated with pleasant experiences, either. Still, if the few minutes Albedo knew them were anything to go by, this Frisk harbored nothing but good intentions when it came to matters of the heart, so he saw no reason not to answer the child in kind. "Albedo," he said simply, offering nothing more or less than his name. On account of the term's more esoteric origin he doubted this child would know, but he shared Frisk's peculiarity of wielding an ordinary word as a name--chalk, the second stage of alchemy's magnum opus, being pure from corruption but yet to awaken.
He didn't blame Linkle for being so focused on the task at hand to introduce herself. Right about now, she probably found herself with quite the inner turmoil. All that talk about her eyes signifying the evil within her, and yet it was her adorable floppy rabbit ears that caused Treat to turn tail. The idealistic young heroine had already been stressed out by her transformation into the Skullgirl courtesy of that malignant heart that beat within her, not to pump blood but against the walls of her mind, As if the stress of becoming the Skullgirl wasn't enough, with that malignant heart inside her beating against the walls of her mind, she'd been freshly scarred by her encounter with Freya. Were he to ask Albedo imagined that the valiant girl might assure him that she cared only about destroyed the Stranger and keeping the good people of this world safe, but another hypothesis hung at the back of his mind. While he couldn't know for certain and hesitated to broach the subject, the alchemist felt sure that more than anything, Linkle feared falling to the evil within. The idea of becoming something evil, a dangerous monster that threatened all she loved, probably caused so much distress that she couldn't stand the thought. As such, the sight of someone afraid of her prompted not just a strong reaction, but an unquestionable obligation to make things right. She was right in that the hospital visit could wait. Albedo nodded his assent, jogged over to grab his coat, then followed Linkle and Frisk outside with his corgo bounding at his heels.
Outside the trio found no sign of Treat, which presented an immediate obstacle. Although still pretty pristine, the snow had seen enough foot traffic to obscure the runaway's bootprints, which would already be troublesome to distinguish from the rest on account of her being a wolfgirl rather than a wolf. With no solid leads to go on they stopped instead at the Christmas tree at the town's center, that beacon of charity and cheer whose perennial communal offerings gladdened every heart, save one. While Linkle rummaged for something suitable to use as a gesture of good faith, Albedo took a different route. Rather than wrack his brain for any half-forgotten clues as to Treat's whereabouts, he approached a rough-looking man with swept-back hair and a long black coat who they passed a moment ago as he strode toward's Grillby's entrance. Unintimidated, Albedo asked if he might know anything about the lonely wolf Treat, and though the man looked neither particularly friendly nor obliging, he pointed southeast.
"You know the little mountain, on the village outskirts?" he asked, his voice as hard and coarse as his face. "Follow the trail going left, up and around. There's a house on the ridge, overlooking the lake. Townsfolk shun it on account of the rumors, so she holed up there."
Albedo thanked him and hurried back toward the others, where Linkle and Frisk were wrapping up their present hunt. He arrived in time to hear her question and took the chance to respond. "The little mountain just outside the village," he told her, not bothering to name his source. "Follow me."
The inundation of warm windows, merry decorations, and small town comfort came to an abrupt end right after the trio passed between the local Food Donkey and Morshu's Shop and stepped onto the mountain trail behind them. Dignified, wholesome pines gave way almost instantly to a canopy of bare, dead branches, twisted like passageways in a maze overhead. Snowdin's cozy ambiance gave way to a heavy silence that permeated the grove, interrupted only by the crunch of snow beneath questing feet and the occasional jeering caw of a crow. Though he looked as composed as ever, Albedo kept a careful eye on his surroundings, alert for any sudden dangers. He couldn't help but wonder why Treat would choose to live at the end of such a spooky path, unless to her it sounded like a better deal than living among hateful rabbits. His eyes landed on a series of porcelain dolls, dangling from the scraggly branches like hanged men. If this wolfgirl wanted isolation, this was the right way to go about it.
Luckily the hike through the deadwood copse turned out to be both uneventful and short, even if it took Albedo, Frisk, and Linkle uphill. The trail brought them out of the grove and onto the mountainside along a sloped ridge, the going made much easier than the trip to the Cold Monastery by the presence of carved steps in the stone. Of course, that posed an inconvenience for Linkle's sled, which made it simpler to carry her gift by hand as she went by foot. With each step a distant but constant noise grew louder, mistakable for television static by a more modern mind, but assignable to only one natural phenomenon as far as Albedo knew. After a couple minutes the snowy ridge both widened and smoothed out, then shortly thereafter terminated at a set of ornate wrought iron gates. Behind the gates loomed a gloomy, austere dwelling of impressive stature, more of a mansion than a house, whatever that rough-faced stranger said. Beyond that lay the waterfall that Albedo and the others heard from afar, a torrent of freezing water from the mountain peak all the way down to the lake far below. Although the ridge afforded the newcomers an amazing view of the land to the southwest with all its snowy forests around interconnected bodies of water, Albedo kept his focus on the lonely mansion where Treat ostensibly lived. He saw two sets of tracks, their boot prints identical, one going toward town and faded by the snowfall, with the other fresh leading straight through the open gates.
Fair, I just put him cuz I wanted to encounter him at some point again :b I'll swap him out for... it feels cheating since I already have The Guyzoch as an 'umbrella', but would the Shadow of Colossus's... colossi, be fine? Or should I single one out?
Special Combat Agent Will Wedgewood, CENTINELS Planetary Secret Service, Blossom City field office, better known as The Crimson Fist...
Wonder-Red!
Origin - The Wonderful 101 Personality - Will Wedgewood is a meek, panicky sort of guy, one who's most likely to cower and run from danger than stand up to it, though he's selfless enough to make sure those around him are safe before himself. In actuality, Will Wedgewood - aka Wonder-Red - is as valiant as they come. Bravery is a trait shared by every Wonderful One, but Wonder-Red takes his dedication and focus to a whole new level. All that matters to him is the mission and the safety of others. Despite impressive marks in training and testing, Red is still a rookie to proper field work, and can carry himself a bit too formally - he seems almost obsessed with calling people by whatever longwinded title he gleans from their interactions, with a very keen memory and eye (ear?) for detail. Background - Forty years ago Earth was invaded by the GETHJERK, an alien armada with hopes to destroy humanity with no obvious motive for doing so. Earth's defense forces at the time barely managed to fend off the attack in what was to be called Earth Defense War I. Needing to better prepare themselves for the return of the GETHJERK, the United Nations created the CENTINELS Planetary Secret Service, a military force formed to secretly recruit and train one-hundred members from all across the world, soon to be known as The Wonderful One-Double-Oh, to face off against the GETHJERK should they strike again. Such an invasion occurred some twenty years after Earth Defense War I - now on equal footing, the alien armada attacked with great numbers and force. It was a hard-fought victory, but Earth Defense War II left the world in one piece still.
Enter Will Wedgewood. A child at the time of Earth Defense War II, his father, Arthur Wedgewood, was a CENTINELS officer, sent on a mission to infect the invaders with a special computer virus. Will, having stowed away on the airship his father piloted, couldn't do anything to stop Arthur's death. The GETHJERK attacked the ship, culminating in Arthur sacrificing himself to help save his son.
Now, another twenty years later, Earth Defense War III has just begun. Will Wedgewood had joined the Wonderful One-Double-Oh, taking over the title of Wonder-Red from the current Commander Nelson, and stationed within Blossom City. At the time of GETHJERK's attack on the city, Wonder-Red, as elementary teacher Mr. Wedgewood, ushered his class to safety before donning his CENTINELS suit, prepared to counter this new, final, invasion.
And that's when Galeem attacked. Neither the Wonderful One-Double-Oh or the GETHJERK would've had a hope of stopping it even if they realized what was happening. But it was the perfect storm. Galeem consumed their world out from under their noses, while they were fighting each other, and that's what ended up being brought into the World of Light: a war. Galeem's influence has dampened both forces for the most part, but the Wonderful Ones are still out there, still in the frame of mind of being under attack, and it's only a matter of time before the GETHJERK come out into the open and spark planetary destruction all over again.
Specialty - Team tactics & coordination, hitting really big things really hard Level - 1 Experience - 0/10 (The amount of EXP required to level up will increase by 10 each level, but rewards get bigger, too) Powers -
Unite Morph - The signature piece of technology CENITNELS has produced is the Unite Morph, which are essentially a series of versatile 'hard-light' projections built into the special CENTINEL-suits each Wonderful One wears. The form, function, and properties of a Unite Morph is coded directly into the suit, allowing whole people to merge together and create the Morph. The more people, the bigger and more powerful the resulting Unite Morph becomes - a good rule of thumb is that the smallest a Morph can be requires 6 people, at 1.5x the size of its wielder. The current available Morphs are:
Unite Hand - Wonder-Red's main Morph, which is as one would expect, a giant red hand. It can do anything a hand can normally do, punch, grab, pull, tickle, etc. At larger sizes Unite Hand gains a set of thrusters to add some oomph behind it, and one unique property it has is being entirely flame-resistant, and can even catch alight with no adverse consequences.
Strengths -
The Virgin Victory - Being a team stationed all over the world and needing to group up at a moment's notice, the Wonderful One-Double-Oh don't have a traditional HQ. Instead, their command center is The Virgin Victory, a flying warship helmed by Commander Nelson. He and his second in command Alice McGregor pilot The Virgin Victory and deliver support to the Wonderful One-Double-Oh, from transport to firepower and everything inbetween. It's currently out in the skies somewhere, with Wonder-Red retaining contact with it, though Galeem's influence is hindering any further use for the time being.
CENTINEL Suit - Wonder-Red, as well as every Wonderful One, has a highly advanced battle-suit at their disposal. Each suit appears different, but at the core they provide the same benefits to their wearer: enhanced super-strength, agility, and reaction time, with the technology itself being able to be used in one three-billionth of a second. It's also what allows them access to their Unite Morphs, so that's pretty important.
Unite Up! - Obviously, the Wonderful One-Double-Oh work best as a full team, one-hundred members strong. As they've all been scattered to the various corners of the World of Light (and out of necessity as getting one hundred individual people in the same place quickly is kind've a crap shoot to begin with), the technology used to make Unite Morphs affords for a bit of corner cutting. So long as there are several Wonderful Ones present, a Unite Morph can be supplemented using ordinary civilians that aren't geared in the necessary suit, letting Wonderful Ones use larger, stronger Morphs while operating at less-than-full capacity. It's a temporary fix, of course, and is liable to strain a participant if done too often.
Weaknesses -
Divided We Fall - To be a Wonderful One is to already be expertly trained in combat against powerful foes. Wonder-Red, and by extension anyone else, can hold their own in a fight if solo, it still leaves them at a very severe disadvantage. No access to Unite Morphs, primarily.
Limits & Faults - While extremely impressive already, Unite Morphs are in no way perfect. The Shirogane Drive used to power them can only hold so much power at a time, restricting the frequency that Unite Morphs can be formed, as well as how large they can get. Too much too often will leave the team unable to form more until they juice back up. On top of that, what the Unite Morphs are made from has some gaps in effectiveness; certain elements, such as fire, electricity, or light-based attacks, can break a Unite Morph right down, and coming into contact with anything too 'spiky' will do much the same. Certain Morphs are able to withstand these conditions, but not all of them.
Infighting - Pobody's nerfect. Now, get about a hundred Pobodies together and force them to be a single unit in a high-pressure situation? There's going to be disputes, arguments, insubordination... you know, typical human things. At best, it's amusing. At worst, a fight amongst the team at the wrong time could lead to things going south, fast.
Spirits -
Guest List -
The Guyzoch - a band of space pirates led by one Prince Vorkken with his righthand Chewgi. Vorkken arrived on Earth shortly before the invasion, meaning he and his group got swept up in Galeem's attack as well. They're out to find the best warriors of the galaxy and bring them into their folds, setting their sights on the Wonderful One-Double-Oh. They have their own Unify Morphs as well, which could prove very valuable to the team... if they can best them. There's also the space cop Immorta, a much more affable ally on her own quest to take down Vorkken, with more ties to the errant Prince than she lets on.
Henry Stickmin - a fellow failer of funny QTEs and a crafty guy who always has just the tool for the job.
Phoenix Wright - ...I don't have a quip for this one I just like the guy.
Inventory -
Wonder-Pendants - pendants worn by every Wonderful One, emblazoned with the team's symbol. These devices allow for the donning of the CENTINEL suit, as well as housing the Shirogane Drive that powers it. Don't have it, can't do it. Easy.
Vulcan Knuckles - Wonder-Red's personal weapon, a pair of custom gauntlets that allow for speedy and precise punches, and act as the basis for his Unite Hand morph.
The sheet is good. Given our discussion, level ups are going to be both interesting and impactful for Billy here. Since Phoenix Wright has already appeared in the RP, however, you can replace him in the sheet's Guest List.
As mealtime wound down, with all who partook in it packed with enough meaty, cheesy, spicy, savory goodness to see them through the arduous ascent ahead of them, contemplation of how exactly to go from here picked up. Poppi didn’t exactly appreciate the way that Mao misconstrued her statement, but even if he argued from a place of selfishness rather than concern for the others’ wellbeing, his pronouncements contained a few grains of truth. If every problem could be solved by just throwing more manpower at it, the entire population of Alcamoth would be swarming festive little Tostarena Town like a plague of locusts, its heroic hordes robbing Deportes Bienes blind and eating the Happy Hongo out of house and home. The image of everyone tripping over one another trying to scale the mountainside made Tora chuckle through his empanada, although in truth he knew as well as the next Nopon that the dangers in store were no laughing matter. When it came time to actually fight the boss he wanted all hands on deck, but until then an oversized party seemed pretty much cost-prohibitive.
Of course, even if everyone reached that consensus, a million questions remained, the most obvious being the question of who would stay behind. Despite the disadvantages incurred by his new upgrades, Yoshitsune seemed intent on making the climb, even if he lacked even the most basic idea of how to go about it. Approaching Jesse for ideas was a stroke of luck on his part, although not for the reasons he might think. Before she said anything Joker, remembering well the many remarkable features of the FBC director’s Tool Gun, interjected with a different idea. “Well, she could tie some balloons to you and then pull them around with her power. But look, even if there’s a way to get you up there like that, you’ll be totally dependent on either a hackneyed mechanical solution or someone else risking his or her own neck to carry you the whole way.”
Mona gave a sagacious nod, his little arms crossed. “This is gonna be risky. We can’t afford to have dead weight. It’d be smarter to stay down here, then back us up when the time is right.” Given that his countryman hailed from the distant past, and lacked any sort of grasp on technology, Joker hoped that Yoshitsune would see the wisdom in his more modern peers’ suggestions.
Big Band shot the cat a brief but pointed look for his condescension. “Although Mona coulda worded that with a li’l more tact, he’s got a point. If anyone can’t fly, climb, or jump good, you oughta think twice ‘bout makin’ the trip,” the trenchcoat-clad detective warned. Murmurs broke out among the group as the team members reflected on themselves, and after a few moments Heavy, Medic, and Blue Poison decided to sit out. Even Ciella reconsidered her participation in the climb, knowing that her greatest asset, her Agito form, couldn’t be employed casually.
As the team of stay-behinds grew, Juan stepped forward to offer some consolation. “Don’t worry, amigos, you won’t be bored down here!” he told them, his voice every bit as larger-than-life as the rest of him. “Loco as it might sound, Tostarena’s got a heaping pile of stuff on our plate we oughta deal with, so any help would be muy bien!”
“Especially from an Al Mamoon official,” Tostada added, her eyes on Ciella. “Naturally, the tourism industry means the town can reward you all amply for your efforts.”
Although what the town’s guardians spoke of sounded rather like something that was beneath her, Ciella gave a stiff nod. “...I suppose that is within my ability.”
With one decision more or less made, Raz had already begun working his thinker about the other piece of the puzzle. If a substantial group planned to stay behind in reserve, how exactly would they go about backing the away team up when push came to shove? He mentioned zip lines and the cannon he spotted in Deportes Bienes, although the team dwarf stepped up to shoot him down even after Midna said her piece. “Unless you’re talkin’ Deep Rock’s stuff, zip lines are for goin’ down, not up!” the Scout reminded Raz. After pushing away from the table he hefted the bright yellow Platform Gun he’d purchased from the sports shop with his own gold. “Didja mean this ‘ere Platform Gun? Well, it en’t exactly my specialty I’ll admit, but it shoots out a loada plascrete that makes a big ol’ disc wherever ya pointed it. Good for us while climbin’, not so much for whoever’s down ‘ere.”
Midna also mentioned the possibility of luring the region boss down rather than bringing the others up, which held some water as far as Band was concerned. “If we can do that, we ought to. Still, we shouldn’t place all our bets on bein’ able to manipulate this thing like that. Otherwise, someone could just fly up, flick its nose, and come right back down. Or hell, just shoot the dang thing.”
Primrose ended up cycling back to the original topic, wondering why the notion of everyone going up in the first place might pose an issue. She also introduced a newcomer, an acquaintance of hers that she’d apparently met here. As Midna chatted away Tora and Poppi couldn’t help but be a little jealous, having missed their own friends since the very beginning of this whirlwind adventure, but neither planned on losing faith just yet. Somewhere, out in this crazy, mixed-up world of light, Rex, Mythra, Nia, and the others were waiting; their time would come.
Since the team’s appointed leader and figure of authority, Fox, seemed to be keeping quiet, Poppi decided to answer the dancer’s question as best she could. “Poppi think big group take more resources, attract more attention, and make communication plus coordination harder. We not have enough supplies or equipment. Also, there higher chance of losing track of individuals, causing collapse or avalanche, and accidentally interfering with one another. If something bad happen, chain reaction could lead to catastrophe.”
Tora shivered, remembering a few narrowly avoided disasters in the icy innards of Tantal. “Meeeeh...Tora even more happy that Poppi going to carry me.”
“Confidence ain’t always enough,” Band summarized. “Now, I don’t claim to be an expert, but even I know that mountain climbin’ ain’t nothin’ to take lightly. I seen a movie or two back in the day that chilled me straight to the bone. The only reason we have a chance in the first place is ‘cause of all the powers and stuff we got. I don’t wanna see any o’ y’all cast your fate to the wind.”
Panther crossed her arms. “That just brings us back to how we’re gonna get everyone up there, though.” Her giant pigtails swung back and forth as she looked around the group in search of ideas. “Can anyone, like, teleport or something?”
Out of everyone present, it was the town guardian Tostada who stepped up first. “Actually, there may be a way for those who make the climb to bring the others up after them.” The blue-skinned heroine headed toward the restaurant’s door, gesturing for the others to come along. “If you’re finished, pack up your things and follow me.
A few minutes later, the couple dozen Seekers stood on the northern outskirts of Tostada Town, gathered upon the red sands at the head of the trail. In front of them loomed the unfathomable eminence, a wall of stone that from their point of view blocked the whole horizon, reaching as far in either direction as anyone could see. For now they stood on the foothills, so it would be a while before the going got too steep, although that meant a great distance yet to go horizontally as well as vertically. Everyone could see the point at which desert red gave way to wintry white, and even what appeared to be snow-laden trees, a narrow but tight-packed coniferous belt of murky green around the mountain’s immense waist. Only by turning around could the heroes grasp the altitude they’d already attained, for from here they could peer outward over not just the rooftops of Tostarena Town, but over the whole of the continent’s Eastern Desert, and thereby take in that ceaseless expanse of wind and sand in which the splendid city of Al Mamoon appeared to be more than a speck. It really put into perspective not just how far the heroes had come, but how far they had yet to go.
For now, their attention lay on the rectangular totems jutting out of the sand at the trailhead. Tied with scraps of cloth that fluttered like scarves in the wind, they stood no taller or wider than fence posts. All of them bore columns of holes carved into their fronts, and though most appeared to be no more than black pits, a handful of the little pillars featured dark blue stones that glimmered slightly with latent power. It was to these artifacts that Tostada directed the group’s attention. “We don’t know much about these crystals, but a number of those who seek to scale this mountain have pried them loose to take on their journeys. Perhaps you can make something of them.”
Sectonia rose to the occasion, eager to flaunt her talent for magical appraisal. She examined the small stones inlaid into the faces of the pillars, then the larger gems that crowned them one apiece. Despite there not being many left to pore over, the Florelia’s ruler came away with a solid idea in mind of just what they were meant to do. The big ones, roughly the size and shape of wine bottles, appeared to be magical anchors capable of receiving transmitted payloads, while the smaller stones boasted the ability to send them wherever they might be. “Like ships bringin’ cargo in to port,” Band analogized. “Looks like we’re in luck. If we take the destination with us, anyone down here can zip right up to it at a moment’s notice.”
The team quickly gathered up the remaining portcrystals and ferrystones, although the grand total came to just two of the former, and eleven of the latter. As they did, Peacock pointed something out about her compatriot’s logic. “Hold the phone, whaddya mean ‘notice’? How’re they gonna see or hear anything way down here? I fly a mean flag, but nobody’s peepers are that good!” From hammerspace she produced a pair of red and white flags and waved them to show what she meant.
As it turned out, the ferrystones didn’t glow if their portcrystal wasn’t available, so that problem solved itself in short order. In fact, with most of the issues figured out, not a whole lot remained to bar them from getting on with it. Few of the Seekers, assembled and outfitted for a grueling odyssey to the split peak of the lonely mountain, could claim that they faced this foe without at least a little fear in their hearts. But this was why they were here--to overcome impossible odds, and save the world.
“The first leg of the journey should be easy,” Tostada was saying. “Between the sand and the snowline it’s mostly canyons and crags. Just keep an eye out for Riders on the way up. They don’t mean any harm, but there’s always a ton of them out racing, and they’re about as reckless as they are committed to winning. Don’t worry about them even if they crash, just make sure it’s not into you.”
“Sounds like fun, meh,” Tora grunted, less than enthused about the prospect of being hit by careless mountain bikers. He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Stage One - Redstone City
From a distance it looked like nothing more that a stony slope that rose from the dunes, pitted and gouged by the incessant scraping of desert winds, but as they grew closer the climbers realized both how wrong they were and how little justice Tostada’s words did the incredible natural wonder that sprawled before them. Before them sprawled a veritable metropolis of rust-tinted rock, a burgeoning expanse a dozen stories high of walls and doors, arches and columns, balconies and galleries, ramps, rooves, and towers, as if an entire civilization had been hewed from the earth by primeval hands. Yet, as far as Tora’s awestruck eyes could attest, very little of it seemed to be manmade. Even as he waddled forward, stepping in and out of the shadows cast by the afternoon sun, he struggled to come to grips with it. By now the Nopon figured he’d be at least a little desensitized to all the marvels this World of Light kept throwing at him, but nope. Thoroughly able to separate the art from the artist, Tora just couldn’t stop being amazed by the wonders of Galeem’s creation.
As such, when the first bike slammed into him at seventy miles per hour, Tora was not remotely prepared. In fact, he’d already totally forgotten Tostada’s words of wisdom, so he only even registered the incoming blur a split second before it struck and managed to interpose his shield in the way. “MEEEH!?” he screamed, more surprised than hurt by the high-speed collision, although the same couldn’t be said for the Rider. The tartan-wearing man launched overhead like a bullet as his bicycle crumpled into scrap metal, soaring straight for the canyon wall. Focused by the realization of what happened, Tora whirled around, his eyes wide with fear. “Oh no, nonono! Tora sorry! Tora…” Just as suddenly as they arrived, both bike and rider blipped out of existence with an effect rather like television static, then reappeared totally unharmed off to the side a split second later. Not even shaken, the supernatural sportsman began working the pedals in a frenzy, desperate to rebuild the speed he’d lost. “...Sorry?” Tora watched him go in complete bewilderment until the biker disappeared around a corner a moment later, not a word uttered, as if the terrific impact never happened at all.
Poppi lowered her hand, glad that the ether barrier she’d channeled to protect her Masterpon hadn’t shattered from the collision. “Now Poppi understand what friend Tostada meant,” she remarked offhandedly. “Please stay alert, everyone!”
The appearance of other Riders all around quickly proved that Tora’s encounter was no isolated phenomenon. Arriving right at the start of a large-scale Mass Rass, the Seekers found not one, not two, not ten, but a hundred Riders to deal with all hurtling through the area. They cruised downhill at high speed, constantly hitting walls, one another, and sick tricks after flying off jumps in what would have been an exhilarating spectacle if the heroes weren’t right in the middle of it. Most of the daredevils sped through on bikes, but some came on go-karts, skateboards, or even skis (somehow), and some weren’t humans at all. The living wrecking balls known as Gorons rolled down the Redstone City’s narrow ‘streets’ with destructive power, easier to see coming but much harder to stop than their human counterparts, and similarly rotund Shiverians bounced through the canyons like giant, fuzzy ping pong balls. All of them seemed to be having a grand old time, too, in stark contrast to the heroes whose progress their sport was making considerably harder. Whether through dodging, blocking, parrying, or other means, the Seekers needed to push through.
Claws flashed like daggers in the meager, sickly yellow light of burning sea slugs, and in their wake spurted odorous, unclean blood. Taken by surprise, the murlocs staggered away from the interloper hurled without warning into their midst, gurgling as they clutched their throats in a vain attempt to staunch the flow. Whether they bled out or not Nadia didn’t care; for now, she needed to focus on the Shark Giant menacing her friend. That Ace had faced bigger and tougher in his storied monster-hunting career she didn’t doubt, but none of them could afford to underestimate their opposition--not here, in this accursed place, swaddled by sickness and infested by horrors of the eldritch deep. She landed on the first floor with feline grace and spotted the pelagic brute, its encrusted anchor held tight as it fought the Cadet man to man. Nadia could hear a whole lot of hubbub filtering in from outside, but for now she managed to concentrate on the task at hand. Ace was okay, so much so that he could still crack jokes, which made her smile despite the circumstances. “Okay, let’s!”
Before they could get to it, however, something happened to Ace’s weaponry. It burst into a virulent green flame, taking both monster hunter and cat burglar by surprise, which given the circumstances led to an immediate, unintended side effect. Unbothered by the sorcerous fire and very, very pissed, the Shark Giant walloped Ace straight through an exterior wall and back into the village’s central basin. After him went Kamek, directing his support to the injured party to help him fend off the murlocs whose animosity turned his way. Instead, Junior came to the rescue, pelting the Shark Giant with both splattershot fire and bioelectricity. He taunted the monster from above, and with a garbled snarl it turned its attention on him, swinging its anchor again and again. Nadia realized that it would be only a matter of time before Junior got hit. As her confusion turned to anger she bared her gleaming fangs. “Nyaow it’s purr-sonal!” Without a second thought, she launched herself forward.
Once in range Nadia closed the remainder of the distance with a Cat Scratch, her claws aimed to rake through the exposed flesh under its arm. She could only guess where this twisted fishman’s protective ribs ended and its guts began, but she went all-in nonetheless, executing a second slash to deepen the wound before she sprang up to deliver an axe kick that cleave into the side of its face. The blow tore out a chunk of flesh right around the spot where its malformed, vestigial eye had been inundated with Junior’s paint, but the Shark Giant didn’t so much as flinch. Instead the oceanic juggernaut swung its arm without looking, as if to swat a fly. Nadia steered clear of the flailing blow with a downward blood spurt, then landed on the monster and kicked off just in time to avoid it twisting toward her. Three rows of teeth clamped down on empty air as she flipped backward, her gymnastic maneuver landing her on the floor a safe distance away.
She clenched her teeth as the Shark Giant turned her way. No longer interested in the annoyance that was Junior, it gathered itself to plow through the shack straight for her. This thing was strong, so strong that it could fight as mindlessly and sloppily as it wanted. Nadia could work with big and stupid and had done so before, but this thing made even the toughest Dagonian thug in Little Innsmouth look like a guppy in a fishbowl. Even damaging it was an issue; clusters of shellfish and tube sponges either adhered to or protruded out from most of its body, creating a grotesque armor that provided an extra layer of protection. Punches and kicks were going to hurt her more than they did it. Then again, even with its attention one hundred percent elsewhere, the best she’d done hadn’t even slowed it down. No matter how Nadia sliced it, this was going to be rough. She steeled herself, and the monster charged.
It crawled across the waterlogged floor of the shack with the speed of a ghost in a horror flick, then threw itself at Nadia mouth-first. She obeyed her panicked impulse to get the hell out of the way happily, dashing diagonally to avoid a toothy demise before she pivoted on her heel to strike the Shark Giant from behind. She closed in with a leap of her own and extended her arms to deliver a flying x-slice, then once back on the ground followed up with a Nail Clipper into a flip slash that brought her back to her feet. The giant began to turn, raising its anchor with both arms to smash Nadia flat, but the feral decided finished her combo off with Claws for Concern, a full-force crescent slash that brought her off her feet with its lunge and into a forward roll. Unfortunately, she misjudged her distance, and her enemy needed to course correct only a little to bring its weapon down on her with cruel might, just as Kamek and Ace re-entered the building.
A yowl of agony exploded from Nadia as the anchor fell upon her. Its force cracked her bones, and its point pierced all the way through her back and into a lung. With a roar the Shark Giant raised its weapon, feral still attached, and swung it in a vain attempt to hit her again. Instead Nadia tore free, flying away limply to crash into the shack’s wooden wall. She hit the ground in a heap, hacking up blood. “...Damn it,” she gasped, her voice haggard and hollow as she rose to her hands and knees. The Life Gem had already begun stitching her together, but her mistake had cost her dearly. A couple more like that and its healing would be too weak to keep her in the fight. With dismay she noticed how little she’d managed to gouge out of the Shark Giant’s body, and with it couldn’t help but despair at how long it would take to bring the monster down at this rate. This just wasn’t a foe she was equipped to fight on her own.
Luckily, she wasn’t on hand. With a longsword made deadly by dual empowerments Ace engaged the Shark Decoy, while Kamek appeared with his retinue of magical clones to extend Nadia the same support he shared with Ace earlier. For a moment Nadia didn’t realize what was going on, but when her healing accelerated and a malefic fire empowered her natural weapons, she didn’t question it. “Purr-fect!” She jumped to her feet, worse for wear but still more than able to fight.
Since the Shark Giant was busy with Ace, Nadia went right ahead and darted in to hack away at its thigh, one, two, three times. When turned on her with a roar and a swing of its anchor she leaned way back, detaching her head as she did, and felt the wind of the monster’s bludgeon in her hair as it breezed by her. She then whacked her head with the flat of her tail like she might a cricket bat, embedding it ears-first into the Shark Giant’s head. This time the brute actually staggered a little, and after putting her tail back, Nadia’s body took full advantage of it with a super-powered Limber Up kick that launched the blood-slicked anchor from the monster’s hand. She then unleashed a sneeze for the riposte, wrenching her head free in a spray of feculent fish goop to sail back over to her body.
Nadia caught her head and popped it on to watch the Shark Giant flail with visceral satisfaction. In this state it was wide open for Ace could go to town, and maybe even finish the thing. Despite the pain that still lanced through her back, Nadia grinned. The tides had turned.
Outside, the battle was similarly intense. After saving Delsin, Link found that the watery battlefield he’d helped to rid of murlocs had become a target-rich environment once more, and nothing commanded his attention quite like the loathsome Judicator. The hellish clamor stabbed into his mind like a poisoned blade, its eldritch toxins rattling the bindings that kept him sane, but the sight of outside assistance in the mix stayed his hand. Though as eager to carve the two-headed abomination into pieces as Link, Spinal recognized a cannon when he saw one, so when Geralt called forth his Ordnance Platform the pirate and his pokemon stepped back for a moment to give him all the space he needed. A second later the deafening report of the Witcher’s Abyssal artillery rattled the fishing village, a thunderclap on par with those of the storm surrounding Carcass Isle, and in its wake came the wailing of the Judicator. With almost half its life erased in a single blast, it howled its pain with not just the drowned voices of its two heads, but a guttural groan from the jagged maw that lurked beneath, or perhaps extruded forth, that damnably human torso. The swordsmen then passed one another, with Link skirting across the basin’s surface to take on the Sea Crawlers while Geralt waded through to finish what he started.
After emerging onto the plaza’s central promontory the Witcher engaged the Judicator in battle. Their swords clashed in the rain, sending up sparks amidst the clangs of silver against bronze. Though the horror fought with surprising ability, especially given the bombardment that left it wounded and shell-shocked, the exchange made Geralt confident enough to fight for real. Spinal joined the fray with gusto, teleporting in and around the Judicator to hack at its leg joints one by one. The monster fought with reckless abandon, spewing out gushes of blight from its mouths and swinging its scales like a flail along with its sword, but it couldn’t compete against the double onslaught. In the span of a few short moments its assailants drove it back toward the well it crawled up from, at which point Spinal’s Dhelmise unleashed its Anchor Shot. Steel chains ensnared the Judicator’s limbs, holding it in place for the others.
When Fizz joined the fight, however, he put a stopper in any plans to dispatch the Judicator quickly. His seastone trident, carefully aimed and swiftly thrust, helped to take down the Quen barrier already touched upon by the Judicator. Once unhindered by Quen, his polearm pierced Geralt’s armor and sank into his flesh over and over, inflicting bleeding. The little squirt moved constantly, darting around to reposition himself for another meaty stab, and if a coordinated attack forced his hand Fizz pulled off Playful Trickster, becoming untouchable for a brief moment as he vaulted to safety on his trident. Over the years Geralt had outmaneuvered many a larger foe with his speed and his wits, which made it all the more ironic to now find himself on the receiving end. Worse still, with its enemies’ pressure diminished, the Judicator took the chance to lash its own back with its scales like a flagellant, knitting together accursed flesh to heal some of the damage already dealt to it.
Meanwhile, Link attended to the monsters that emerged from the body of Scylla in the eastern harbor pit. He loosed an arrow at each to mixed results, getting the most mileage out of the shots that hit Eel-ectric and the tongue of the Hermit. Tidehunter cared little for the arrow embedded in his chest thanks to his Kraken Shell, which due to its negation of a flat portion of any physical damage dealt to him, made him incredibly resilient against low-damage attacks. The shot did, however, get his attention, and with a snort the burly leviathan waded Link’s way. Four to one made for poor odds, Hero of the Wild or not, but after another moment Link found himself in good company. Sakura arrived to push the Sea Crawlers into the shallows, which left Tidehunter all to Link until Peach arrived to back him up, her fusion with Chao Hu keeping her above the water. Tidehunter did not turn away from the two-on-one fight, for even if his damage output turned out to be inferior, he was confident that his wealth of debuff-inflicting abilities would tip the scales in his favor.
Sakura’s fight with the Sea Crawlers featured an explosive start, and though the street fighter managed to get her foes moving toward where she wanted them, her limited visibility didn’t tell the whole story. For instance, she didn’t notice that ‘Crabby’ reduced the damage of her explosive Hadoken to all three using its Coral Shield, but zoomed in to engage all three. Before they could surround her she put her new skill to use to deftly avoid Crabby’s haymaker, V-Shifting out of the way of its blow, then maneuvering it into the shallows. That put her at odds with all three at once, although her eager smile never left her face. The battle was on.
She kicked Crabby and ‘Clammy’ in sequence, but by the time her foot had connected with the latter, the former was on the offensive. Even if Sakura’s remarkable strength cracked its chitinous armor, the sheer crustacean bulk beneath absorbed physical attacks well enough to leave it almost totally unfazed. It unleashed a ground pound, the pressure wave kicking up debris and water in equal measure. Through the tumult flew a lightning-charged bubble, launched by ‘Zappy’ from afar, to explode on impact Both attacks, meanwhile, gave Clammy an opening. It lunged for Sakura in an attempt to clamp down on one of her limbs or even her head with its own, only to fall short. Sakura uppercut its rock-hard jaw in return, taking some damage to her knuckles and also triggering the electric aura placed on it by Zappy, shocking her. As Sakura and Clammy landed the relentless juggernaut Crabby attacked again, followed by a lash from Zappy as he used his electric eel like a whip. When he got back up, Clammy did not rush in again, but opened wide his four-hundred-pound head to spew a poisonous cloud in the area. Each of the three Sea Crawlers, it seemed, had a trick or two of its sleeve, and together all three could apply so much pressure that even a whiz kid like Sakura could barely keep up.
Bella's arrival put a sudden stop to the Sea Crawlers' bullying. She burst from the basin to snap the jaws of her leviathan tail shut on Clammy's human body, then dragged the monster into the water with her. In a miniature maelstrom she began her death roll, inflicting constant grievous injury without giving the enemy a chance to so much as get its bearings. When the poison cleared, only Crabby and Zappy remained before Sakura.
The Chalk Prince, the Fallen Child, and the Skullgirl
Albedo did not anticipate the child breaking the silence he’d allowed to settle back over the small group in their booth by the window, although in all fairness Frisk had broken the ice earlier, too. No researcher worth his salt would forgo re-evaluation of prior conclusions when presented with new evidence, and even if just with a few words, this youngster seemed to be challenging Albedo’s conclusions about their nature. Maybe it wasn’t introversion that prompted Frisk’s typically taciturn demeanor, but a sort of considerate deliberation. Nobody could provide a better example of shyness than Treat, after all, and when juxtaposing her distance with Frisk’s nearness Albedo could see quite the contrast.
Then again, maybe he was making mountains out of molehills. His new acquaintance had just commented on Linkle’s eyes, describing as ‘cool’ what would probably be scary or at least ominous to the average middle schooler. Having observed her eyes himself, Albedo found himself in agreement. Of course, his definition of ‘cool’ better suited the brisk air that permeated the foothills of Dragonspine, but he knew the colloquial meaning, and irises that shone like rubies, inlaid with patterns resembling the matching halves of skull, struck him as fascinatingly novel. Still, Linkle couldn’t accept the compliment even for the sake of small talk. She could not disassociate her eyes from the evil that created them. So rather than chime in his consensus, Albedo stayed quiet, still except for the effort it took to take another sip of his cocoa. Did she truly believe that the Skull Heart’s touch conferred the irreparable taint of evil? In the alchemist’s mind he could thwart that hypothesis, convinced by ample evidence that Linkle possessed a good heart still, figuratively if not literally.
“Purity is a rare phenomenon.” he said softly, murmuring into his cup. “Oftentimes so much as to be merely conceptual. Nobody is pure good, nor pure evil. Every one of us is a mixture, diluted by countless sources. And yet, does what someone’s made of truly define what someone is?” He fixed his seafoam-green eyes on Linkle’s vivid red rubies. “People are remarkable creatures. That one is merely the sum of one’s parts...to me, that sounds like a hasty conclusion. As long as humans can choose, they can be more than the cards dealt to them.”
After that came the arrival of Treat, followed shortly by the arrival of the corgi on Albedo’s chest, then the arrival of Frisk to endow the friend-shaped animal with a sweater-clad embrace. Given the dog’s position, that meant getting up close and personal with Albedo too, yer the child betrayed not a hint of hesitation. Although momentarily frozen by indecision despite the mounting temperatures from the trio of heat sources, the alchemist decided to repay the gesture of friendliness in kind and display no aversion; he did no more than tilt his head away so that his chin wouldn’t impact Frisk’s cranium. If his time with that joyous rascal Klee taught him anything, it was that children wore their hearts on their sleeves. Maybe all of them liked doling out hugs as much as she did. “How...sweet,” he breathed, trying not to disturb either of the little ones making his booth their home.
Linkle’s encounter with Treat, meanwhile, took a different turn. Having her ears called ‘cute’ made the wolf girl smile despite herself, but when Linkle unveiled her long, silky rabbit ears, Treat jolted as if jabbed by a cattle prod. “Oh!” she squeaked, her eyes wide with fear as unwarranted apologies spilled out of her like spaghetti. “S-sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize..!” Without another word the girl backed off, averting her eyes from Linkle as if even her gaze might be an insult of some kind, until she could turn tail and dash out through Grillby’s front door. Albedo watched her fluffy tail flap back and forth until Treat ran out of earshot.
“Ah...that’s unfortunate,” Grillby remarked, rubbing his fiery head. “It’s my fault for forgetting. Apparently, before moving here she lived in a village of rabbit-folk like you, miss. As far as I know they treated her worse than dirt.” The gravity of his words made it clear that there was no pun intended. “Feared, distrusted, bullied, ostracized, the works. The rabbits in Snowdin aren’t much better. They’re so sure she’s just biding her time to eat them that they don’t think twice about making her life hell, and there’s not a thing anyone can say to convince them otherwise. But she’s got nowhere else to go, so she just shuts herself up inside. Living around bunnies has made her one lonely wolf.” The fire elemental gave a mournful shake of his head.
Albedo mulled over the information. “Routine cruelty from rabbit-eared people would explain the reflexive flight response, I suppose.” He glanced at Linkle, confident in his assessment that she could not let another mischaracterization stand. “I would hazard a guess that you’re not okay with such a state of affairs?”
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.<br><br>Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.</div>
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