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Lugubrious male Member

Player on the other side

STATUS: Now running: World of Light - Winterland Daybreak, the Sky Unfettered 2 days ago
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Status

Recent Statuses

2 days ago
Current Now running: World of Light - Winterland Daybreak, the Sky Unfettered
1 like
2 mos ago
Now running: World of Light: The Tale of the Dark Itself
5 mos ago
Forever and ever, amen
9 mos ago
Calling out from Scatman's world
1 like
11 mos ago
Called into action - by threats that seem harmonized

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.

Most Recent Posts

In An Idiot's Dungeon Union → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Deliberation about who would be obliged to begin work on the grueling task of dungeon excavation came to an end when Zogi inexplicably reappeared, then volunteered to get busy. Schnupfen was happy to see one of his colleagues take initiative, mostly because it meant he couldn't be press-gangeded into physical labor himself, but truth be told, the sight of Zogi headed off to work filled the shadow with much less confidence than the goblin carried himself with. Even if he could somehow revive himself and therefore theoretically be worked to death ad nauseam, Zogi was not what Schnupfen would call a physically impressive specimen. It would take a very long time for him to perform the necessary renovations to get a workable dungeon layout going, and with the serious lack of muscle among the staff here, progress wouldn't be much faster even if everyone chipped in.

Of course, hard work wasn't Schnupfen's strong suit anyway; he was more of an ideas geist. At least he and the other intellectuals would have plenty of time to put together a plan. It sounded like Muste knew what he was talking about, but before he could put his plans to paper it seemed like he'd need to acquire some paper first. He marched off to check the great outdoors and see what resources the dungeon's surroundings had to offer. Schnupfen considered following him, since he was also curious where he'd been brought into being, but he held back. On one hand, it seemed very likely that it would be daytime outside, which he could not abide. On the other, the Oracle's summoning ritual promised to be much more interesting. It was no overstatement to say that the dungeon's future depended on the whimsy of fate and whatever it decided to materialize from the ether. Schnupfen gave the siphonophore a wide berth, sniffling, as it whipped up a quick boon for Zogi and his kobold compatriot. Just the sight of all those ethereal pickaxes made the shadow's eyes water. "Eugh, those conjurations are making my allergies act up," he complained as he dried his eyes with his rags. "I'll just leave you two to it." He said it as if he hadn't been about to do that already.

After that, Schnupfen turned his full attention to the lightshow and ensuing results of the Oracle's rolls, ignoring Zoppy and Salbjörg. Three freshly-made psychedelic eyes went wide as the sheer quantity and quality of everything that materialized, including items, underlings, and even ready-made dungeon features. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure (manifesting a third arm in order to make sure all three eyes were sufficiently rubbed) before clapping two of his hands together. "Mother Void has graciously withheld her nothingness, for this is certainly something!" Without any further acknowledgement of the Oracle's efforts, he darted over to the pile of goodies for an up-close-and-personal examination. He sniffed monsters and materials alike, like an excitable puppy dog meeting strangers for the first time. Though the naga instinctively shied away from him, which elicited a disappointed tsk, the treant stolidly withstood the nosy ghost's probing. "Hmm..." Schnupfen scratched his nose. "Subtle aromatic terpenes. Floral, herbal notes. A rich, earthy undertone. The musk of turpentine, the resin of autumn pines...a bouquet of inner strength and vitality." He gave an approving nod. The digging crew was now twice as big, and over twice as strong. "You'll do nicely."

He let that hang in the air while he continued to examine. While the amulet and warp bell made him gag, the different traps pleased the Schnupfen greatly. "A pitfall!" he crowed, pinching the pitch-black crystal between two claws for a closer look. "Humble in its simplicity. Undeniable in its lethality. With this, a little push can do what a hundred soldiers cannot." Schnupfen sprouted two more arms to rub his hands together as he licked his fleshless lips in anticipation. "I can hear the echoed screams fading into silence already...all that remains is to find the perfect place to put it."

At that point he noticed the rat stack, currently doing their darnedest to get the Oracle's attention. Though not the disembodied entity the risible rodents wanted, Schnupfen floated over to carefully stroke the topmost rat with an index finger, then help stabilize the rats' formation before they toppled over. "United at last, are we? Though you yet number few, your host holds great promise. I eagerly await the advent of your multitudes, a ravenous tide of fang and fur under which our foes may be crushed." While Schnupfen viewed the rats more as assets than colleagues, he seemed to appreciate them for what they were and what they could be relied on to do.

Of course, he had other matters to attend to aside from rat supervision. Despite not having eyes at the moment, Schnupfen turned to look at Muste when the illithid returned. He asked for the bed, which the shadow consented to with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Take it. The darkness is my mattress, and the cobwebs my sheets." He then watched, his expression dubious, as Muste sketched up a proposed dungeon layout and then levitated it in the air. If Schnupfen hadn't been pitch black, he might have blanched at the lingering enchantment that irritated his nostrils the moment he tried to inspect the scroll. "Bleck...I can't read that." He thought that Muste would use it to give orders to the digging crew, but instead he went over to Salbjörg. "Hm." Since those two were busy playing around with bones, it fell to him to direct the digging crew, didn't it? "Well, someone's got to do it," he decided with a shrug.

He floated over to Zogi and his three pickaxe-touting comrades. For the sake of inspiring the others, he grabbed a pickaxe of his own, which he waved around like a flag using the combined strength of four hands. "Gentlemen, our labyrinth is in there. We need only chisel it free from its stone bindings. Let us begin!" He swung at the nearest wall. The pick bounced off, flew out of his hands, and clattered on the floor noisily. Schnupfen wiped his brow with the back of his hand, then put his hands on his nonexistent hips as he watched the others get to work.
In World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover) → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Esaka’s Middle Tier - Banishing Flats

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (151/150) Level 11 Big Band (51/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1083


Before anyone else could answer her questions and get a pleasant conversation going, Nadia found her train of thought derailed by an exclamation of astonishment from Terry. After taking her by surprise with his sudden loudness, he demanded to know if she knew who she’d stolen from. Which, of course, she did, since she just mentioned the guy’s name. “Uhh…” That question turned out to be rhetorical, though, as Terry began to explain. She remained pretty ambivalent about the Kazuya hype up until the point when Terry referred to her as ‘cat’ for the second time, at which point the dude started to rub her the wrong way. Her body language immediately changed from her typical friendly, relaxed state to a more defensive, annoyed one as she lowered her ears and crossed her arms. His explicit disapproval of her less-than-legal activities only fanned the flames of her distaste.

“Fur-st off, call me ‘cat’ again and you’re gonna cat-ch these hands, buddy. The name’s Fortune, ‘kay? It’s like if I started callin’ you ‘chimp’ or somethin’. Not so nice, is it?” Though she was still smiling, her furrowed brow made her look much more sardonic than gregarious. “Second, I didn’t say anythin’ about stealin’, but -if- I did, stealin’ from a bad guy’s purr-etty much a good deed anyway. And third, even if this dude did come after me, you’re lookin’ at someone who’s taken down three Guardians. And they’re, like, the strongest there is. I think we can handle one devil guy.”

Band watched, silent, as the feral made her retort. While she did have something of a point about the way Terry, a total newbie, treated her, her instinctive defensiveness told him that she might be a lot more guilty and worried than she let on. Plus, she hadn’t exactly defeated those guardians by herself. Her lopsided accreditation of those feats served as an interesting contrast to her saying ‘we can handle it’ if the Seekers did suffer the consequences of her actions. The detective had looked askance at her from the beginning, but now he felt certain that this calico cat burglar was not just selfish, but also reckless. She seemed to be taking advantage of the Seekers’ mission to save the world to do whatever she wanted, reasoning that being an unsung hero made her above the law. Laws weren’t just there to protect victims, though; they also served to protect would-be criminals from themselves.

Whatever the case, Nadia seemed pretty miffed, despite Terry’s apologies. Rather than circle around to the previous subject, she slunk out of the spotlight after recovering her cash and sat against the lobby wall while the others caught up and explained things. She wore a cheerful smile as she pet the dog that had followed Pit in, but Band wasn’t buying it. For starters, now anyone who needed money would have to ask her, and perhaps bargain for it, rather than just take what they needed. He suspected that she regretted sharing what she’d been up to so readily, as if she’d been among compatriots. Maybe she hadn’t dealt with a lot of people from other walks of life before…or maybe, Band figured, he should quit overthinking. With a sigh Band decided to leave her to her own devices, and turned his attention to the others.

Among the various ideas for how to spend the evening, Harry’s plan actually made the most sense to Band. Though reluctant to admit it, he knew that his fighting skills probably weren’t up to snuff. During his time at ASG, he mostly fought undead or criminal elements that the police couldn’t -or simply wouldn’t- handle. He could throw his weight around, and his mechanical chassis housed a powerful arsenal of instruments, but when it came to proper fights against skilled opponents the detective had precious little experience. “I probably oughta do some trainin’ myself,” he confessed. “Or at least some practice. Brass don’t rust, but my fightin’ skills do. I got no delusions about takin’ the title myself, but if I’m gonna be fightin’ anyway I wanna give whoever’s gonna go the distance the best shot possible.”

Since he’d signed up for the World Warrior tournament, the most likely candidate to fight Bison would probably be Sakura. That meant that he and Harry would just need to clear out as much opposition as they could for her, and they wouldn’t be much help if they got knocked out in pools. With that in mind, he looked around at the others. “If anyone feels like beatin’ these old bones into shape, I’d be grateful. I saw some wrestlin’ rings out in the motel courtyard, so we can go a couple rounds out there, once the rain eases up.”

Nadia stood and headed over to a front window, where she pulled the blinds down to check outside. “Looks like it is petering out, actually. ‘Pour’ excuse for a rainstorm, eh?” She turned toward Primrose with a smile, glad to see her friend again even if she’d been preoccupied until now. “If you’re offerin’, I’ll gladly ‘spring’ for a chance to hang out with ya. A tavern sounds pretty good; if you’re plannin’ to dance, we’re definitely ‘inn’ for a good time!” There would probably be food there, too, and with her new funds anyone who stuck with Nadia would be eating like kings. As for whatever else rich people did…the feral would have to figure that out as she went along.

On the way through the lobby Nadia made sure to say hi to Yayama. “Well hello again! That l-eye-lac peeper of yours tells me you got shown the ropes, so welcome to the good guys. Let’s hope you’re better at winnin’ fights than stoppin’ ‘em, eh?” When she stepped outside, she couldn’t help but admire the sky. With the sun starting to go down as stormclouds parted, gorgeous golden rays shone through the glutted gray clouds. That, plus the prospect of hanging out with Primrose, had the feral back in a good mood again. It helped that Juri wasn’t around to annoy her, although not having Junior or Rika back alongside Primrose and Therion was less satisfactory. Still, she knew those kids well enough to know that they’d probably be fine out there on there own, whatever wild adventures they wound up in.

The Midnight Walk - 2.3

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (29/90) Level 5 Heismay (82/50)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2302

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 7/8 | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat


Faced with a winding path through a wealth of troublesome but stationary emplacements, Sandalphon approved of Edward’s pragmatic idea of going offroad in order to circumvent the danger. The team’s tactician left the stagecoach in her hands again, and while that made sense on paper, the archangel’s lack of genuine experience ended up being relevant. She did her best to tune out the sound of popping balloons and steer the Reindrix down the path melted by Edward’s hellhounds through the deep snow, but the beasts -perhaps sensing uncertain hands behind the reins- proved less than cooperative. To make matters worse, the uncovered terrain was rocky and uneven, which led to a great deal of terrestrial turbulence. Anyone still aboard the stagecoach could expect to be rattled, and perhaps even battered by bits of luggage shaken loose from their storage hooks by the jarring. At one point, one of the stagecoach’s eight wheels cracked clean in half after catching in a slanted nook. On the whole, though, everyone made it out in one piece.

Despite the tumult, Sandalphon kept her wits about her as best she could as the Seekers approached the village. When Ganondorf asked about Edinburgh, she glanced at him with question marks in her eyes. “We’re not bound for Edinburgh MagikaPolis. Our destination is Moon Mountain,” she reminded him. “To my knowledge, we would have to cross the sea to reach Edinburgh anyway.”

Heismay watched as Ramattra went over to join the efforts of the monkeys and a TV-headed stranger to thwart the balloons’ ceaseless incursion. Though special bloons joined the onslaught, threatening to overwhelm the defenders and reach the village, the monkeys’ unexpected assistants helped turn the tide and prevent a breach. Thanks to Ramattra’s efforts to physically bodyblock the most durable balloons, the original Tenna and the boss monkey managed to puncture the last lead bloon mere feet from the hamlet’s main entrance. After wiping sweat from his brow, the head ape offered the helpers a pair of banandium gems as thanks. It seemed like the town would be safe from bloons for the time being, but Heismay didn’t relax just yet. Looking back on the new branching path melted through the snow, he couldn’t help but wonder if any hypothetical bloon reinforcements might take a detour around the defenses as well–and what these bloons would actually do if they did reach their destination.



As the Seekers proceeded toward the village, Mokou was the first to get a good look at it, thanks to the fiery flier’s bird’s-eye view. Although fresh snowfall and the dark of the Frozen Highlands’ evernight obscured the little hamlet somewhat, Mokou could make out a couple dozen buildings with the help of the warm lamp-light that emanated through the frosted panes of townhouse windows. This village sat astride a squiggly river where miniature ice floes separated clusters of cold-weather bullrushes and shoals of small tundra trout darted beneath the surface, and the stone bridge over said river served as the community’s central point. The buildings featured uniform white plaster walls reinforced by timber beams, with sea green roof tiles sprinkled by snow. The place had no real gates or defenses, just a couple sections of stone wall between various exterior structures and one or two lookout towers. No two buildings were quite alike, though all featured stone chimneys with plumes of smoke that spiraled up into the dark, cloudy sky, their interiors warm and cozy despite the bleak winter outside. The Midnight Walk itself ran beneath an inn and through the village, roughly perpendicular with the river, and a few of the torch-sized matchsticks that defined its borders were still lit even as they flickered in the frigid wind.

That wasn’t all that Mokou or the other Seekers could see, though. In the distance, not quite between them and Moon Mountain but probably somewhere on the Midnight Walk that promised to lead to White Team’s ultimate destination, there stood an enormous spire half-hidden in the fog. It seemed to stretch all the way to the clouds and perhaps up into the heavens themselves. It was majestic, uncanny, and ominous all in one, and Sandalphon had little doubt in her mind that her team would find their way there.

Since it was technically daytime despite the gloom that blanketed the Highlands, most of the village buildings were open rather than closed up tight, and there were people out and about. Since they still had plenty of supplies the Seekers didn’t have any particular need to stop here, but since the Midnight Walk ran through the place anyway it didn’t hurt to say hello to the locals. There only seemed to be a handful of assorted guards around, and they showed no overt hostility. If anything, the ones by the front entrance seemed surprised that the Seekers managed to circumvent the town defenses, but as long as they were balloons, the defenders took no issue with them.

It was from those first few guards that Sandalphon learned the name of the settlement, that being Gründachdorf, a name amusingly reminiscent of Ganondorf. After two stretches of travel cooped up inside the stagecoach, even a profoundly unathletic archangel like her felt the need to stretch her legs. With Edward back in command of the reindrix as he slowly navigated the ponderous coach through the village, she walked along behind it and took in the sights. Though most of these quaint hovels were small, they were neatly kept, with pleasant flowerbeds displaying all kinds of hardy taiga species, fully-laden clotheslines, and rustic farming implements. She also saw Heismay running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, taking the chance to hone his agility in an effort to break up the monotony of long-distance travel.

The more both Heismay and Sandalphon looked around Gründachdorf, though, the more anachronistic the place became. For starters, this town was home to more than ordinary humans. Many sported clear cybernetic prosthetics or augmentations, some more extreme than others. The village barber, for instance, had both arms and at least half of his head replaced, with an approximation of skin stretched over the black metal of his left arm. There were a few vending machines tucked away around the village, offering drinks like Milky Pop, The Machinetta Americano, Mountain Sparkle Mont Blanc, Potential Blast, and Elixir Carrot.

More notable was an entire underground bar called The Last Gulp, easily identifiable at night thanks to its neon sign. When Heismay ventured toward it, interested in getting a drink, he heard a woman singing down there. He descended the steps to find a large taproom with a bar on the left side and a wooden stage with a piano against the middle wall. The singer turned out to be a husk of a woman, little more than a head and spinal cord atop a three-legged mechanical frame, attended to by a life support drone that looked like something straight out of the deep sea, or another world. Heismay recoiled at the sight, but stood there, spellbound and unable to look away as she sang.

After a few moments, a man with a red and black metal head walked out from behind the bar. “Hey! This is a restricted area.” He looked down at Heismay. “Never seen you around Gründachdorf before. Identify yourself.”

Heismay quickly composed himself. “Ahem. I am Heismay Noctule, former knight of the Euchronian Shadowguard. Now I am but a wanderer, on my way to Moon Mountain.” His words seemed to defuse the situation somewhat, so the eugief carefully continued. “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude. I took this place to be a tavern of some kind. I must’ve been mistaken…”

The man grunted, then looked over at the strange woman. “Enya. You okay?”

She did not respond, nor even acknowledge his presence, but continued to stare off into space as she mouthed the words of her song.

With a sigh, the bartender leaned on the counter, his head oriented toward the floor. “...There was a time that this bar used to be full of people. Now it’s just so empty. Empty and dark. And Enya…same story.” He glanced at the cyborg. “I wonder how long she’ll live. With her body in the state it’s in.”

His story, and his feelings for the poor woman, moved Heismay’s heart. Before he reached the stairs to leave, he turned back. “I know it’s not my place to offer, but…if there’s anything I might be able to do, I would like to.”

The bartender shook his head. “Not unless you’re some technological genius. She’s suffered major AI damage…even if I got her new parts, I wouldn’t…wouldn’t know how to make her better.”

“Oh, is she a machine?” Heismay asked, tentative.

His new acquaintance stared at him quizzically. “No, she’s human,” he said as if it should be obvious. “Like me.”

“Oh.” Heismay bowed his head apologetically. “I must apologize. Where I’m from, there are no such technologies. I am very inexperienced…”

“Then you should keep your mouth shut,” the man interjected. When Heismay went quiet, he took a deep breath and sighed. “Sorry, I…I’m a little on edge. If you do know anyone that could help, I would be extremely grateful. We both would be.”

Heismay nodded slowly. “I’ll ask around.” As he climbed back up the stairs, woefully sober, he looked back over his shoulder. “What is your name, by the way?”

It took a moment for the bartender to respond. “...Su.”

“Farewell then, Su. I pray that I’ll return with good news erelong.” With that, Heismay departed.

Meanwhile, Sandalphon drew to a stop by a church about three-quarters of the way through Gründachdorf. She briefly examined the humble but admirable structure, particularly its elaborate windows, before spotted two women by a small bakery stall in the vicinity. At that point she froze, her pupils empty rings as she stared at a tall, elegant woman with long ears and mint-green hair, clad in a flowing dress, with ephemeral fairy wings at her back. Although it had been a long time since Sandalphon had set foot in an Ilian church, she remembered well the goddess statue that adorned every altar, and this woman was her spitting image. Her mind raced for a few moments as her trains of thought blazed a half-dozen trails at once, before finally retracing back to a single conclusion: that it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Gingerly, the archangel approached. The closer she got, the slower and more hesitant her steps became, but once she reached an appropriate speaking distance Sandalphon found her courage. She swallowed, then called out, “...Ilia?”

“Hm?” It wasn’t the green-haired woman who turned, but her companion, a young woman with flowing white hair and a more sporty outfit somewhere between modern and fantastical, with both black armor and a huge, blocky rifle. She threw a friendly smile Sandalphon’s way. “What’s up?”

Sandalphon stared, motionless. “You’re…Ilia?”

“Mhm!” She put her hands on her hips. “That’s me! And this is Meene, my best friend. You know me?”

After a moment, Sandalphon shook her head. Though she kept an even expression, her pupils were stress marks. “No, I’m afraid not. I think…I must be thinking of someone else.”

Though she raised an eyebrow, Ilia decided to be a good sport about the strange encounter. “Oh, okay! Well, good luck finding your Ilia then!”

“Thank you…” Sandalphon bowed her head, then turned and left in a hurry in order to catch up with the stagecoach and the others.

She arrived at the village’s rear exit just after Heismay, who took the opportunity to report the quest he received. While the Seekers probably couldn’t come back here, perhaps the Avenger could dispatch an engineer or two here later to check on Enya and see what it would take to restore her. Once the rest of the Seekers made it through Gründachdorf, the stagecoach could continue on its way. As they spoke, Sandalphon saw a couple people emerge from the village and stand a short distance away, looking at both the stagecoach and the distant tower. One was a stubbly man in baggy black techwear, and the other a bespectacled woman with a silver ponytail and a futuristic skintight suit beneath a gray-and-brown bomber jacket, which did not look sufficient to protect against the Highlands’ cold. After a moment the woman approached, and Sandalphon turned to face her.

“Hello,” she began in a sophisticated British accent. “Are you lot headed for Spire 4? We happen to be headed that way, but the going is said to be treacherous and we would not mind some company.”

The archangel nodded. “We are, though our true destination is Moon Mountain. I am Sandalphon. May I inquire as to what your business might be at Spire 4?”

“The space elevator,” the woman responded. “An Alpha Naytiba has taken refuge there, and we mean to wipe it out. I’m Eve, by the way, and this is Adam.” The man behind her gave a casual wave.

Their names meant nothing to Sandalphon. “It would be our pleasure to travel alongside you until then.
In World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover) → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Esaka’s High Tier / Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (149/150) Level 11 Big Band (49/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1417 / 1478


It took a few moments just for Nadia to fully take in the sight. The hall before her wasn’t so much a secret passage as it was a gallery for sneakers, each wall no less than thirty feet high and arrayed with athletic footwear of every style and color conceivable. Luminous chandeliers shone down from above, and eight or so shoe-fitting stools littered the vermillion carpet floor. This collection could have easily been part of a posh department store, but with it hidden away behind a secret door, Nadia could only conclude that this must be the personal horde of a single enthusiast: the ominous man whose image hung behind the desk. There were hundreds of pairs of sneakers in here, and she couldn’t even begin to guess how much they were worth, perhaps made even more valuable by who owned them. Either way, the cat burglar had just hit paydirt. “Jackpot.”

Once she got over her amazement, Nadia worked quickly. She’d worked enough jobs to know that secrets often came part and parcel with surveillance, traps, and silent alarms. Thinking quickly, she turned around and made a beeline for the trash bin under the office desk. It contained only a few scraps of paper, which she dumped in order to pull out the white trash bag and fluff it up to its maximum size. Then she returned to the giant-size shoe closet and began to stuff as many matching pairs as she could inside. She seized the sneakers and packed them in until they began to strain and stretch their plastic membrane. That added up to just twelve pairs of shoes, and as much as Nadia wanted to collect more, even she knew not to get too greedy. “Twelve’s still pretty good,” she muttered. “Besides, he’s got hundreds. If I purr-loined a few, I bet he wouldn’t even miss ‘em!”

With one last, longing look at the sneaker smorgasbord, she ran back out into the office with the trash bag over her shoulder. A quick tap of the hidden button closed off the shoe gallery again, and for the first time Nadia began to consider exactly how she would be getting out of here. “Hmm…” Her bag of stolen goodies wasn’t too unwieldy, but it would complicate any exit, especially if other people were involved. Getting back down with the CAT fighters the same way she came up would be trickier with the extra burden and imbalance of the sneaker sack, but she didn’t need to ascend anymore–just to descend without going splat against the ground. That seemed way better than any options that involved freefall or climbing, so the feral jogged over toward the balcony doors to leave.

At that moment, the doorknob rattled. Nadia froze, her eyes as wide as saucers, and the next second someone kicked through the door with a terrific noise. She turned, aghast, to see the very same man whose portrait hung on the front door to the sneaker collection, that man with slicked-back black hair and a trench coat made from purple alligator hide: Kazuya Mashima. The moment he laid his red glowing eyes on Nadia and her bag of kicks, he bellowed something threatening in a language she didn’t understand -the first instance of this happening that she could recall- and transformed into a purple winged demon. With a yell, he fired red lasers from his eyes that swept across the room and straight toward the intruder’s head.

Of course, Nadia popped her head off to narrowly avoid the beam, then turned and sprinted away from him at max speed. “Hey! I’m not devil-ain here!” Rather than stop to open the balcony door, she plowed straight through it with a tremendous crash. Sirens began to go off as she ran for the edge, Kazuya flapped after her. “Harbor Demon! HURRY THE HELL UP!” Her striker appeared in front of her to deploy some CAT fighters, but it was too late. When Nadia heard a heavy footfall and chanced a look back over her shoulder, Kazuya was already there, his deadly fist on its way. “Wagh!” Instinctively she held up the bag, putting it between herself and her attacker.

“Hm!” Kazuya stopped short with an angry grunt, his terrifying strength halted in an instant as he refused to destroy his sneakers, even to slay their thief. Nadia used that second to fling herself from the balcony, followed by the CAT fighters as the Harbor Demon disappeared. Kazuya returned to normal as he walked to the edge of the balcony and laid his hands on the railing. He watched as the feral took the sack in her mouth and used Charge to zip up to and grab hold of the CAT fighters, then glide away between other buildings. “Hmph.” His face twisted into a nasty smirk as he pulled out his cell phone, then began to dial.

A few minutes later, Nadia touched down in a random Low Tier back alley. Her treasure bag hit the ground as she doubled over with her hands on her knees, exhilarated and breathless. “Whew…holy shoet!” She took a moment to catch her breath, then stretched her arms and flexed her sore fingers. Things had gotten dicey toward the end there, but when it came to heists, a win was a win. It did surprise her that Kazuya hadn’t used those devil wings of his to give chase, but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The next part, selling her stolen goods, would be less fun. Hopefully the folks down here in the Low Tier would be about as unscrupulous as she was, and not call the cops the second they laid their peepers on a sneaker. With a sigh Nadia hefted her bag over her shoulder and headed off to find a buyer.



As Big Band prepared to go, he got word from Zenkichi via Linkpearl about Banishing Flats, including the room rate per night. Though he still wasn’t totally used to using the World of Light’s most common currency, Band knew that six thousand zenny wasn’t chump change. He quickly counted up the cash he’d received while playing, and to his relief found that it added up to seven thousand, one hundred and thirteen zenny. It would be enough to last him one night at least, and with how little sustenance his real body (or rather, what was left of it) needed, eleven dollars’ worth would probably actually be enough for dinner.

It took only a few minutes for the detective to track down Banishing Flats, since in a stroke of good fortune, it happened to be right next to the park he’d been playing in. About one step up from a roadside motel, it took the form of a boxy, square building with three floors, but with a theme that became obvious the moment Band saw the giant wrestling belt with the hotel’s logo suspended above the main entrance, and the triple ring ropes in place of both railings and fences. The sight put him in a good mood before he even reached the front door. While seldom able to attend NMO wrestling events in person, he often tuned in to reruns whenever they appeared on TV, and he could appreciate the spirit of the sport. All the action, spectacle, storylines, personas…it was all just good, dumb fun.

How different would things have been, he wondered, if he became a wrestler instead of a cop? If he’d been bound for a big sham either way, at least wrestling would have been fun. He did have a special grab or two in his arsenal, even if he wasn’t a proper grappler, so if nowhere else, maybe he’d fit right in to Banishing Flats.

When Band stepped inside, a miniature wrestling ring bell went off by the door to announce his arrival. Behind the front desk, which was stylized like a sloped commentators’ table, the Mecha Zangief clerk came online. “Privet!” it greeted him in a loud Russian accent, somewhat garbled by a low-quality speaker. It flexed its robotic muscles, performing a few different poses. “What can Unit Two do for you today!?”

A quick look around confirmed no sign of Zenkichi, so Band assumed the other detective must have already left to drum up some dough. He pulled out his newly-gained cash and handed it over in order to pay for a room. Instead of a room key, Band was handed a wrestling belt with the room number emblazoned on the front in what must be fake gold. Since he couldn’t put it on, he grabbed it in a mechanical pincer, then deployed a second in order to bid the Mecha Zangief farewell with a tip of his hat. He left the receptionist to continue flexing and stomped down the right-hand hallway, grateful that his room seemed to be on the first floor and that he wouldn’t have to navigate any stairwells, which he suspected would be neither big nor strong enough for someone like him.

On the way to his room, he passed by a window, and when he peered through it he realized that Banish Flats had a central open-air courtyard that the second and third floors could look down at. It featured a thin, plus-shaped sidewalk in the middle of four genuine wrestling rings, each elevated and outfitted with corner posts and ring ropes. Even though the dark sky heralded imminent rain, there were still a couple wrestlers out there doing their thing. In one ring, a blonde bombshell in studded black leather was grappling with a bombastic, muscular Draph with a red outfit and big horns, while in another, a brawny Frankenstein’s monster was staring up into the sky. When Band followed his gaze, he witnessed an older, tattooed wrestler launch himself from a third-story window and land the mother of all body splashes on his opponent. The slam made an immense racket, and it left both grapplers stunned for a few moments, but after that both managed to pick themselves up and laugh it off. Band shook his head and moved on.

When Band found his room, he held the belt up to the scanner. The light flashed green, and a click signaled that the door was unlocked. He swung it open to reveal a short hall made to resemble the ramp on a wrestling entrance stage, complete with miniature pyrotechnics that went off to welcome him for the first time. On the left lay the bathroom, the right the closet, and straight ahead the bedroom. The four-posted bed actually had corner posts and ring ropes of its own, which he hoped could be detached. Not that he’d have much luck fitting into this place anyway. Band ducked inside, made his way to the bed, unbuckled the ropes on one side, and sat down with a sigh. Thanks to lunch at Pao Pao and his break in the park he hadn’t been on his feet all day, but he still felt pretty tired, and his stay in Esaka would only get more hectic from here.

A few minutes later, Zenkichi contacted everyone again to let them know that he’d gotten his hands on some money and was coming. Band joined in once he finished. “I’m at Banishin’ Flats myself. Just got a room. It’s by a park on the Middle Tier’s northeastern side, overlookin’ the marshes. Look for a big square buildin’, three floors, and a wrestlin’ belt over the door.” He pulled down the blinds with a little mechanical arm to peer out at the park. It was even darker than before, and the winds were picking up. “Better hurry, y’all. It’s gonna be comin’ down in sheets any second now.”

Over the course of the next half hour, his fellow Seekers showed up bit by bit. Nadia arrived toward the end of that period, and by then it was pouring outside in the park. She wasn’t too soaked thanks to the umbrella she ‘found’ on the way, and when she stepped into the lobby she found a number of her allies gathered there at a couple couches around a coffee table. “Heya!” She smiled as she greeted the team, folding up her umbrella. “You know, with how hard it’s comin’ down out there I figured most people would head indoors, but there’s actually tons of guys out there t-rain-ing still. Guess the rain makes fights that much more dramatic!”

She excitedly balled her fists with a big smile on her face, her tail swishing back and forth behind here. “So, you guys know why money’s called ‘dough’, right? ‘Cause everyone kneads it! ‘Specially people lookin’ for a roof over their heads. Lucky for you, this cat’s got the answer to all your purr-ayers. Check this out…” She reached into one of her special pouches and pulled out a huge wad of cash that she plopped down on the table. “Wha-bam! That’s three hundred thousand zenny!” Eyes sparkling, she proceeded to pull out a second stack. “Ba-boom! Six hundred thousand! Enough for ten people to stay ten whole nights! How’s that for makin’ cents?” She crossed her arms and looked smug, as if doing basic math was a feat that everyone should be proud of her for.

Band eyed her suspiciously. “And where exactly, Ms. Fortune, did you come by all this money?”

“So, get this,” Nadia shrugged as she held her palms up, as if she couldn’t believe what she was about to say either. “I was wandering around the High Tier, mindin’ my own business, and I just happened to stumble upon all these sneakers, see? I figured, y’know, nobody wants all these shoes sittin’ around, might as well do my part and help, uh, clean up the city. Y’know? And, and, wouldn’t you know it, these sneakers turned out to be purr-etty rare. Once belonged to some big bad guy named Kazuya. After hearin’ that, I thought sellin’ ‘em would be a ‘capital’ idea. And sure enough, this trader I found just up and bought my whole stock!” She put her hands on her hips, her eyes half-lidded as she smirked. “Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

Judging by the detective’s frown, he didn’t believe one word. “Uh huh. Well, you don’t gotta cover me. I’ll be payin’ my own way.”

“Huh? Who said I’d be covering anyone?~” The cat burglar winked. “So, uh, what’s new with you guys?” Nadia breezily looked around at the others. “Got anywhere to go for dinner? Stuff to do afterward?”

The Midnight Walk - 2.2

Lvl 9 Sandalphon (26/90) Level 6 Heismay (29/60)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1579

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 7/8 | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/(None)/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat


Once the stagecoach got underway, Sandalphon mostly kept to herself, her attention divided between monitoring the outside world through her link with the other Seekers and studying the research material recovered from Markiona’s study. Of course, she happily put the papers away in order to converse with whoever approached her, whether just to answer a question like Geralt’s, to have a more in-depth exchange with someone like Mokou, or just to give an update on her mental map of the Frozen Highlands around them.

The archangel was glad that everyone accommodated her requests, and collected all the ergo everyone gave her -including the new crystal obtained from the alchemist caster spirit Ramattra crushed- into the pouch that Geralt obtained from Eryk. It was a good amount, although to her chagrin there was no way to tell if it would be enough for her purposes. Briefly she considered the logistics of revisiting Krat Zoo to acquire more. White Team’s journey would take long enough without needlessly retracing their steps, but now that Sandalphon had the coordinates, perhaps some of the Seekers’ reserves aboard the Avenger could be dispatched there. After all, despite her stated intent to clear the carcasses out, there was a good chance that Krat Zoo was one of the Consuls’ colonies, with a Flame Clock of its own. As long as that clock burned, carcasses and other foul creatures would continue to appear. In the World of Light, there was rarely such a thing as a permanent solution.

When she had some time to herself, Sandalphon took Markiona’s spirit in order to fuse with it. It was a good thing that she wasn’t interested in the puppeteer’s abilities, since everything suggested about the alchemists and Markiona in particular painted a very bad picture about her character, but a Skill fusion wouldn’t engender any new personality traits. Still, there would be changes, which she could more or less guess at. For a moment she wondered what Zenkichi would think, but she quickly put him out of her mind. She needed this spirit, and hopefully it would be the shortcut to the knowledge she needed to enact her plan. After breathing in, Sandalphon pressed the spirit into her forehead.



In the wake of the fusion, Sandalphon found herself possessed of all the knowledge she needed and more. Many of the new things she now knew worsened her opinion of Markiona considerably; that woman had been a true pioneer in the field of ethically dubious science. Still, she had what she needed, and she need not use anything more than that. Sandalphon quickly reviewed her papers with a fresh perspective, quickly connecting the dots she hadn’t been able to before. Now her plan was no longer a pipe dream, but it still wouldn’t be easy. That night, she would need to make some calls.

Sandalphon set aside the documents for the time being to try and install the vegetubes. While much more inclined toward software rather than hardware, the archangel thought she could figure these contraptions out. Even if the stagecoach lacked power, she could at least get them ready, since there wouldn’t be any time to lose when it came to preparing the mistletoe for Baldur. She undertook this primarily since there weren’t that many others around to help right now; few of the Seekers remained in or right around the wagon as it traveled, and fewer still once Edward stopped it in a snowy valley between opposing forces.

When Edward brought back the lightning rod schematic and a proposal, she approved his plan, then began following the instructions he provided to construct a lightning rod for the Seekers using coal recovered by Sectonia’s antlers prior to Krat Zoo. Having Geralt and Ramattra around to help made the process less painstaking, particularly when it came to construction via repeated hammer swings. Once the lightning rod had been erected, the three could set about figuring out a way to break it down and attach its functional parts to the stagecoach itself, without giving the black steel an electric current. It took a little trial and error, and a couple electric shocks that Sandalphon dutifully healed, but after a few minutes the lightning rod had been mounted on one of the coach’s four corner spires. It provided just enough power to run one vegetube, but with three more spires, the output could theoretically be quadrupled.

The exertion of building one rod had tired Sandalphon out though. Luckily, before she could reluctantly begin work on another, Heismay arrived in a hurry. He carried with him a half-dozen blueprints filched from Whitey Hooten’s base, including the Creature Chamber that would supposedly allow the Seekers to manufacture hybrid beasts of their own. “Impressive,” Sandalphon told Heismay as he tried to adjust to her new color palette. “Where is Edward now?”

“Still bandying about with Hooten,” Heismay replied. “Edward is empowering his forces, as planned. We should get moving before Hooten makes a move. Edward will catch up to us afterward.”

“Understood.” Sandalphon made her way to the front of the stageclock and climbed up to the driver’s seat. Although she’d never handled animals like this before, she’d seen Edward do it enough by this point that she felt confident she could emulate him, at least on the straightaway that the Seekers would be using to make themselves scarce. Once everyone was aboard, White Team got rolling again, just in time to clear the way for Whitey’s army as his star-bright beasts finally took the initiative against his foes.

After escaping the valley of impossible creatures, the Seekers followed the Midnight Walk across a barren, hilly snowfield. Except for the occasional rocky crag or lake of freezing water, it was wide-open and empty, without the plentiful coal from the previous area. It did have its own share of hardy, cold-adapted wildlife though, which now happened to be of special interest to the Seekers thanks to their acquisition of Sigma Technology. With his natural speed and stealth, Heismay was especially well-suited to acquiring samples. On several subsequent forays he collected samples from a penguin-like kairuku, a walrus-like horker, and a ferret-like chillet, which he brought back to the stagecoach for storage.

Eventually, the Midnight Walk brought White Team into sight of a distant village, with snow-dusted, green-tinted roof tiles and dozens of smoke plumes that spiralled up into the dark, cloudy sky. Between them and the isolated town, though, was a field of especially deep snow, through which the path snaked crazily. To make matters worse, it seemed like they weren’t alone on the road anymore, either. In front of them floated a procession of giant balloons, much too big to steer around, all of which slowly drifted down the Midnight Walk in a giant conga line. It wasn’t long before the frontrunners triggered what appeared to be the town’s defenses, an assortment of eleven turrets, cannons, and well-armed monkeys that stood ready to puncture as many balloons as they could.

Whether or not there were simply too many balloons for the rather inefficient-looking emplacements was anyone’s guess, but Heismay got the sinking feeling that those defenses wouldn’t discriminate between balloons and Seekers. As he steeled himself for yet another fierce battle, a second wind surged within him, a newfound strength forged by the fires of battle against Tom, Markiona, and so forth. The power of kings swelled within him, and the aching of his old bones fell away.



Reassured by the heroic resolve housed within him, Heismay stood tall, watching the balloons ahead pop one by one as the stagecoach advanced.
In An Idiot's Dungeon Union → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
If he could breathe, Schnupfen would have held his breath in anticipation as he finally relinquished his desperate, clawing grasp on the stone and started it on its fateful descent. He watched, psychedelic eyes wide, as it plummeted down and unceremoniously bopped the little hellion on the noggin. The adventurer dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, his limp limbs splayed out wildly, and after he sagged to the floor he did not rise again.

Schnupfen blinked, silent as the grave, as seconds slid by without any discernible motion from the marauder. After the terrifying, improbable durability displayed by young Danny already, his cynical side wouldn't let him believe in victory just yet. The other monsters seemed equally trepidatious, the Oracle broke the silence with a thunderous bellow at the kobold, so loud and sudden that it scared Schnupfen half to death. It ordered the tremulous reptile to see if the adventurer had really been dealt with, and after mustering his courage the kobold obliged. All eyes lay on him as he prodded the intruder's still form, his efforts intensifying as his confidence swelled until there could be no doubt about it any longer. The dungeon's inaugural defense mission had succeeded.

While the Oracle seemed triumphant, it was hard for Schnupfen to feel good about the comedy of errors that had been the dungeon keepers' defense. Rather than take any credit for the win, he split open a half-dozen fanged maws across his torso as he let out a hollow, rattly sigh of relief. His extra eyes rolled backward, then disappeared, and he wiped beads of shadowy sweat off his forehead. "That was too close," he grouched. "And frankly, rather embarrassing. Thank Mother Void that none will ever know of this disaster." If word somehow got out about these supposedly menacing monsters' mad scramble to survive the onslaught of a single bumbling teenager, the dungeon keepers could say goodbye to any semblance of credibility.

With that encounter scrubbed from the history books and bound for repressed memory, the keepers could start thinking about next steps. As Muste looked into helping Salbjörg, since Zoppy was certainly not going to (she didn't even seem to notice that Zogi had died saving her, Mother Void bless her) he mentioned prepping for the next invasion. Schnupfen nodded vigorously, his huge nose bobbing up and down like the snout of an agreeable horse. "Yes, yes, absolutely. We must attend to the dungeon's abysmal layout, for one. And the immediate overuse of illusory walls makes them so obvious..."

He could have continued to complain about the dungeon's many failings, possibly for hours, but an interruption came in the form of the dungeon's crystal core. The sudden surge in magical activity made Schnupfen's eyes bug out before he beat a hasty retreat. He then sniffled as he stared at the core, wary of what the change meant for him. It turned out to be purely beneficial as he then felt new strength course through his shadowy form. It...wasn't much. But it was better than nothing, until the time came to be one with Mother Void once more, he couldn't afford to be nothing.

Kleine emerged in order to pay her respects to the mulched goblin. Schnupfen paid more attention to the instrument held in her hands, which he guessed was an impromptu weapon, possibly wielded as a last ditch resort if the adventurer made it all the way to the core. Its true nature only became apparent when she moved to help pry Salbjörg loose from the glue trap. Schnupfen, of course, didn't help, not just because his meager strength wouldn't be much help, but also because she smelled. He turned his attention away from Muste's feeding, which he found rather distasteful, and reconsidered the matter of improving the dungeon now that its keepers were authorized to augment it. "Well, our first order of business should be perform a couple more summoning rituals, yes? I trust our esteemed Oracle can weight the dice in our favor. It would be wise to at least take a peek out of our new front door as well, get a lay of the land. That said, if it's daylight outside, I'm afraid I won't be venturing out." If asked, he would clarify that he wasn't trying to give anyone orders, just suggestions that everyone would benefit from.

Schnupfen looked around, manifesting a handful of eyes to review the dungeon layout. "We should also get started on mining out new rooms. The raw materials, naturally, can be recycled into walls. We should really take care of the clear sightline to the core. The physical labor will be rather intensive, though...nose goes?" He quickly laid a clawed index finger on the end of his nose to signify that he wasn't eligible. Nearby, the idle kobold blanched at the prospect of mining out entire rooms on his own and also discreetly touched a claw to his snout.
In World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover) → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay


Seems fine to me!
In World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover) → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Esaka’s Low Tier / Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (149/150) Level 11 Big Band (49/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1377 / 1426


While she’d already proved that she could scale the walls separating one of Esaka’s tiers from another today, Nadia wasn’t in any hurry to repeat her feat three times over, especially after that tiresome slugfest with Asher. Finding and taking three sets of lifts would eat up extra time, but the catgirl wasn’t in any hurry either. Between now and the tournament’s official start tomorrow, she had nothing but time to kill, and if she planned to spend the night in a comfy hotel bed instead of reliving her childhood memories as an alley cat in the streets, she’d need more zenny than she could make by hustling low-tier locals. It was about time the cat burglar reached into the same bag of tricks that served her so well in the Nyakuza Metro, and like any art, hers couldn’t be rushed.

Nadia leaned on the railing of the elevator as it lifted her from the Low Tier to the Pools, feeling the wind in her hair as she watched the slums recede beneath her and the idyllic farmland beyond the tiered city’s walls stretch out into the distance. Even though she’d only been in Esaka a short while, she already loved the atmosphere here. It was by no means perfect, with plenty of inequality that stemmed from its stark class divides, plus the desensitized, systemic self-destruction caused by the Four Kings’ tournament society, but it still fascinated her. She could see the vision of what a place like this could look like without Galeem, and it excited her. Too bad that this one-of-a-kind culture would vanish along with the rest of the World of Light once the Seekers’ campaign concluded. Nadia sighed and turned her gaze toward the distant, prismatic entity that hovered over Empty Space, an ever-present reminder of this reality’s true nature.

Her mind continued to wander after she walked along the arches of a bridge across the Pools, then up to the Mid Tier. Once she reached the High Tier, however, Nadia forced herself to focus. From here on in, she was no longer a sightseer, but a predator on the hunt for prey.

Even compared to the tier just beneath it, though, this one was a different beast, and a far cry from Nadia’s typical stomping grounds. If the Middle Tier had looked like a small city, the High Tier looked like a metropolis, with wider streets, taller buildings and more space in general. In lieu of bustling marketplaces were well-lit, neatly kept supermarkets, with only the odd hot dog stand on the street. People didn’t collect into crowds much of anywhere, so pickpocketing would be much more difficult, and every establishment could be counted on to have some sort of security. As she walked around, scoping out the various buildings from a safe distance, Nadia couldn’t help but feel out of her element. No doubt the richest people could be found here, but their money would be safe and sound in vaults, not stashed under their beds. And as audacious as Nadia could be some time, the feral wasn’t about to rob a bank or anything. She would need to be creative and selective, even more so than with the jewelry store in the Metro.

As she wandered she found a few possible places, but thought better of them all, always moving on before anyone started looking at her funny. Some of the folks she passed by on the street looked affluent, but as much as Nadia resented rich people, she remembered that money in Esaka depended on one’s fighting skill, so it was even harder to tell who might be both deserving and worthwhile. Eventually, she approached the base of a tall skyscraper, drawn by some commotion. While this building -apparently the headquarters of some business called G Corp- seemed to have a lot of well-armed soldiers for security, who both stood guard in front and patrolled walkways higher up, most of their attention seemed to be on some sort of standoff near the entrance. There, a handful of soldiers headed by a brawny robot with a mohawk and a red-suited brute stood opposite a squad of troopers in black armor with an armored bear. Some of the rival units’ elites had been squaring off, but with all the raised voices around Nadia couldn’t figure out who won or what was going to happen next. She also noticed a muscular gentleman with a black stovepipe hat who seemed to be arguing that he should be president of G Corp since he was already a president and his name was G, but nobody paid him any attention.

More importantly, the feud gave Nadia an opportunity to sneak into G Corp itself. She left the squabble behind and walked alongside the structure toward the edge of the tier, as the skyscraper happened to be perched upon the precipice. There would be plenty of security around the front of the building, but what about the back? It didn’t make sense to station guards back there, and even if they did, surely they would’ve been reassigned to the commotion out front by now. When she reached the perimeter railing, she casually leaned on it and looked up at the G Corp HQ. It offered only sheer surfaces and arrayed glass windows, with no windowsills and few obvious handholds. If she broke through the window, it could trigger an alarm and all kinds of unwanted attention. Nadia chilled there for a few minutes as she thought about her options before a bright idea finally materialized.

She summoned her Harbor Water Demon striker, then called upon one of the huge abyssal’s least-used abilities. At her command, the striker deployed three spherical CAT fighters, then disappeared. As the fighters flew upward, Nadia jumped up to grab one in each hand. 2,700 Pounds of Justice was working against her here, but with the help of the third fighter to lift her up from below she could ascend. In that manner the catgirl slowly gained altitude, bound for the skyscraper’s roof.

It took a good while, but eventually Nadia reached her destination, undetected by G Corp security. Rather than the roof, she made for a helipad balcony, where a black helicopter was undergoing maintenance. Once she jumped down, Nadia noticed that the mechanics had left the door open while working. Laughing to herself at her good luck, she easily slipped into the building.

She found herself in a dark, lavish office, full of expensive furniture and artworks. Judging by the huge portrait behind the desk, it seemed to belong to an almost comically evil-looking man, with swept-back black hair, a single red eye, and a purple alligator-skin trench coat. “Wow, that guy looks evil-lainous,” she muttered. Keeping a low profile, Nadia began to look around. Some of the furniture here ought to fetch a good price, but it would be tricky to abscond with pretty much anything. Maybe that millionaire had some ‘pocket change’ lying around, or better yet, a hidden vault.

After a couple minutes, the engineers finished with the helicopter and packed up their gear to head through the office. Nadia quickly ducked behind the desk and hid underneath it to wait. While under there, she happened to see a button next to the chair, which prompted her to wiggle her eyebrows nefariously. “Ooh~” Once she couldn’t hear the mechanics anymore, she stood up and gave that button a press.

Nadia heard a creak behind her. She turned as the huge portrait -and the wall behind it- split apart, revealing a secret passage. A crack of golden light shone upon her face, slowly widening as the feral’s eyes sparkled. When she realized what she was looking at, a breathless gasp of laughter escaped her. “Oh. My. God…”





The longer Band spent in the Middle Tier, the more bemused he became about the mindset of the average Esaka citizen. Wherever he went he found plenty of people willing to chat, but the fighters and the yokai alike all seemed fundamentally incurious. They could explain to him the minutia of a technique’s block advantage, breaking each movement down into sixtieths of a second, and they could recite various fighters’ catalogues of special moves by heart, but they couldn’t see the bigger picture. Nobody questioned the tournaments or the society centered around them, nor its stratified structure, and while the Four Kings maintained a bad reputation among the populace, nobody seemed to question their authority or entertain the idea of overthrowing them. There were no whispers about conspiracies that an intrepid investigator could trace down and solve. As long as they were entertained, and found some way to get by, the people were content. Or at least complacent.

It disturbed Band, in part because he knew that he couldn’t blame this state of affairs on Galeem completely. Back in New Meridian, things had been pretty bad for the everyday low-to-middle-class citizen, and things never seemed to change or get better. Folks indulged themselves with fantasies of upending the system, but the powers that be were impenetrable for the average civilian. If someone actually managed to get ahead, they’d only become more invested in keeping things the way they were to preserve whatever they’d managed to achieve. In a situation like that, it was no wonder that people became addicted to distractions. Bread and circuses, Ben, he thought. Bread and circuses.

If nothing else, the detective managed to turn up important details about one subject: the Four Kings. While they seldom appeared to the public, and tournament winners rarely bothered to actually challenge them after the grand finals, they captivated the public and were subject to a great deal of scrutiny. Over the course of several conversations, Big Band pieces together a relatively complete picture of their capabilities.

M. Bison was the archetypal tyrant, a ruthless and forceful maniac who wielded an energy called Psycho Power in battle, allegedly borne from the fear, anger, and hatred of others. In the arena, he oppressed his opponents with a forward-moving onslaught of beefy slugs, slides, and scissor kicks, never giving them room to breathe. If he were allowed to plant a Psycho Mine, his challenger would be even more stuck, forced to deal with Bison’s assault while a timer ticked down to an automatic explosion. Even if someone managed to push him back, his famous Psycho Crusher would bring him right back in, breezing straight through projectiles if he chose to enhance it. His lack of ranged attacks and reversals were weaknesses that few foes could exploit.

Shao Khan, host of the Mortal Kombat tournament, was best known for his bloodthirstiness. He didn’t fight just to win, but to maim and torment his foes, crushing bones with his trademark hammer or piercing organs with a spear. Evidently he could summon new weapons on the fly if he lost or hurled old ones, and according to one tremulous gossiper he could somehow prevent foes from blocking. Naturally, his raw strength was unmatched among the Four Kings as well. In his tournament, he decreed that all contenders eliminated in the Losers’ Bracket be put to death. The messier, the better. While Mortal Kombat garnered the fewest participants among the four tournaments, it had some of the most crazed fans, and for some reason or another, made the most money week after week after week.

The man who ran the King of Iron Fist struck Band as the most interesting of the four. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to be just a tough old man, without any overt supernatural abilities–unless one counted his unmistakable haircut as supernatural. Nevertheless, Heihachi Mishima was widely respected and feared as a true martial arts master, with a colorful history. Rumor had it that he’d fathered upwards of twenty illegitimate children, survived the explosions of several kamikaze robots point-blank, and even come back from falling into a volcano unconscious. People also whispered that he’d once done the same to his own child, and even killed his wife. His famous techniques included Stonehead, the Hellsweep, Heaven’s Wrath, and the Electric Wind God Fist.

Rugal Bernstein held the honor of being the least fought among the Four Kings, with a penchant for arrogant cruelty, absurd strength, and turned conquered challengers into trophies by encasing their live bodies in metal. Everything Band heard about him made his skin crawl, which considering all that Band had seen and heard during his years in the NMPD and Anti-Skullgirl Labs, was no easy feat. His fighting style was an unpredictable mash of the notorious moves stolen from other fighters, supplemented by nasty-sounding techniques like Genocide Cutter and Dark Barrier. Supposedly, he also owned an entire zoo’s worth of black panthers that he sometimes brought onto the battlefield as assists. His only weakness seemed to be that he fought as a team of one, but given everything else Band learned about him, it sounded like he’d be plenty bad enough on his own.

After learning all this from various sources, Band decided to take a break. The longer he went, the more elusive juicy details got, and with all of the other ambient information about Esaka to absorb his brain was fried. Band retired to a picturesque park amidst a few of the Middle Tier’s buildings, where he sat on the sturdiest bench he could find to relax, close his eyes, and listen to the wind though the leaves. Though Esaka had very few children or families, there were still a handful of people here, quietly seeking peace from the city’s hustle and bustle here. Birds sang, flowers bloomed, and occasionally a dog or two ran across the grass.

Though it was nice to be somewhere quiet, it wasn’t too long before Band got the urge to fill the silence. After thinking for a minute, he set his hat down by his feet, then deployed his saxophone and began to play. He started off with some warm-ups, none too loud, then kicked off some low-key, jazzy ambiance. His goal wasn’t to make a scene, just to paint a pleasant picture with his cheerfully arrhythmic notes. For much of it he kept his eyes closed, not even minding who came and went whilst listening to his music. At one point, though, he opened his eyes after a long stretch of music to find a young lady standing right in front of him. She looked like a Japanese high-schooler, with long, ash-brown ringlets, a sky-blue dress, and vivid red shoes.

“Excuse me, mister,” she addressed him in a small, calm voice. She was holding a violin, as well as a bow. “If it’s not any trouble, may I play alongside you?”

Big Band nodded. “Of course.”

He scooted over, and the young lady sat down beside him. The duo began to play, tentatively taking turns at first as they got a feel for one another. After a bit of practice, however, the musicians could really get going. Rather than anything loud, exciting, or upbeat, they continued to play in a more restrained, wistful and longing manner, the solemn and haunting violin strings complimenting Band’s saxophone blues. Though they lacked lyrics, or the musical depth of a full band, the two strangers found themselves able to make something beautiful together. They lost themselves in the music, and time flew by.

Band did not bother keeping time during his reverie, but by the time he finally put his saxophone away, the sky had grown dark, and not just because the afternoon was coming to an end. Rainclouds hung overhead, and purple lightning flashed to the east. At some point the girl had slipped away, taking none of the money that appreciative passers-by had left in Band’s hat. When he stooped to pick it up, he was surprised and heartwarmed to see a decent chunk of change in there, probably enough to last him a day or two. He stared off into the distance as thunder rumbled, silently grateful for the company of the young violinist. Then, as raindrops began to fall, the detective got to his feet and moved on.

Krat Zoo - Back to the Midnight Walk

Lvl 8 Sandalphon (103/80) Level 5 Heismay (76/50)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1239

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 7/8 | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/(None)/(None)/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat


With Markiona taken care of, the members of Sandalphon’s strike team quickly retraced their steps through the Botanical Garden and back to the stagecoach, where they rendezvoused with the rest of White Team. A quick meeting with those who’d been elsewhere allowed her to check a number of boxes off her mental checklist.

For one, Mokou had managed to complete her mission and reunite the three Lost Vikings, all safe and sound thanks to her diligent efforts. Overjoyed to be back together and none the worse for wear, against all odds, the three offered her rare artifacts as recompense. Even if it would take one more Piece of Heart to complete a new heart container and boost Mokou’s maximum health, it was a thoughtful gesture. Based on the phoenix girl’s combat prowess and self-revival abilities, though, Sandalphon had something more important to offer her. “If you have no particular destination in mind, you’re welcome to continue traveling alongside us,” the archangel told her. “We have a long journey ahead, of which this zoo was just the first step. The road ahead will be inundated with danger, but it will afford you ample riches, entertainment, and chances to do good deeds.” If she agreed, one more reward would be hers eventually: freedom from Galeem’s bondage. Everyone deserved to be free, but in Sandalphon’s eyes, Mokou’s performance and attitude had fast-tracked her liberation, if she saw fit to accept it.

Thanks to the clue hidden in the cryptic vessel, Sectonia had indeed discovered a hidden letter in the mouth of the taxidermied Rex the Crocodile, that being the suspicions of the taxidermist about the true nature of Colonel Little’s murder. “Thank you, Sectonia.” Together with the other snippets of information she’d learned so far, Sandalphon could begin to assemble the story in her mind. At some point after Little founded Krat Zoo, a clandestine group known as the Alchemists -possibly headed by Markiona- had approached him in order to obtain the zoo and its inhabitants for their own purposes. Little had opposed them, but perhaps due to financial trouble, he’d lost ground bit by bit, until the alchemists decided to dispose of him and frame his faithful companion, Rex the Crocodile, as the killer. Finally, Rex himself was slain and turned into a display in his owner’s beloved Hall of Adventure. It was a morbid tale, but even if it didn’t mean anything, Sandalphon was glad to bring the truth to light, and clear the poor reptile’s name at last.

When Ganondorf and Roxas returned, the strange duo came bearing seeds and vegetubes. “You obtained mistletoe? That is excellent news. Considering that they are only seeds, it seems prudent to install the vegetubes on the stagecoach itself, both to grow the mistletoe and obtain a sustainable food supply. There should be adequate space toward the front.” The vegetubes probably needed power, but maybe Edward could make something work with those mana fuel cells of his.

With Markiona and her alchemists gone, the carcasses cleared out, the seeds acquired, the Lost Vikings found, everyone in one piece, and a promising new recruit, the Seekers had not only made it through Krat Zoo but also achieved more than she could have predicted or hoped for. That included all the information from Markiona’s study, but out of everything she’d learned, Sandalphon saw fit to share just one pertinent detail with the others as they gathered inside the stagecoach for stew. “By the way, you all need not concern yourselves with infection from those carcasses. I discovered conclusive evidence that the animals only mutated in that manner from a combination of subjection to the Petrification Disease and the Alchemists’ ‘elixir’. There is no airborne, bloodborne, or other pathogen in play.”

Heismay swallowed his mouthful of stew, then let out a big sigh of relief. “That’s very good to hear.”

After a moment Sandalphon continued. “I would like to make two requests, though. First, may I have all the ergo crystals you all collected? And second, if possible I would like to claim Markiona’s spirit? I believe she possesses skills that would be of particular use to me.”

“You'll hear no objections from me,” Heismay consented, placing the spirit he’d collected onto the bench where she could take it, or others could argue over it.

Once everyone was ready, the burliest Seekers could push open Krat Zoo’s back door. The Reindrix, revitalized by their rest and the tasty, puffy kernels of the popcorn plants, set off vigorously down the Midnight Walk marked by burnt matchsticks and into a snowy wasteland beneath the dark and cloudy sky.





For a good ways, the terrain seemed to be mostly flat, expansive snowfields, interspersed by large, rocky outscrops. Small pine forests could be found here and there, but for the most part this leg of the journey was wide open. With the snow about two feet deep everywhere but the Midnight Walk, the stagecoach could speed along straightaways, its occupants much more secure than in the Reaver Woods thanks to the open sightlines. Nevertheless, there was plenty to be found off the beaten path. This area seemed to be rich in surface coal deposits, just sitting out in the open for anyone to mine, and there were an unusual number of geothermal vents as well.

At one point, the Midnight Walk led the stagecoach through a valley. Perched atop the bluffs on either side were strange flying machines that resembled locomotive gyrocopters, one painted green and the other red. Through reconnaissance, whether via Edward’s drones or just by going over to see for themselves, the Seekers would find not only burly henchmen busily mining coal or building defenses, but a variety of bizarre and, frankly, impossible creatures. On the right side, where a brunette in a teal shirt seemed to be in charge, there were a variety of predominantly terrestrial mismatched monsters, while on the left the freaky forces of the big bald boss were more suited for aquatic warfare. If anyone kept an eye on them for a minute or two, it would be hard to miss additional units getting spit out of enigmatic spawners that seemed to manifest them from nothing but coal and electricity.

As the stagecoach continued on, they happened to pass by a spot on the right where a gray wolf had just been tranquilized by a dashing huntsman who was in the process of extracting a small DNA sample to take back to base. Heismay, riding atop the stagecoach as usual, couldn’t help but be curious about the two factions’ standoff all the weird critters involved therein. If someone else elected to split off from the stagecoach to investigate, he’d go along with them.
In An Idiot's Dungeon Union → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Once the young marauder wriggled free of his attacker's clawing grasp, he pushed through the second illusory wall and deeper into the dungeon, now at roughly the halfway point. In his wake he left the seething Schnupfen, bitter and frustrated as he drifted up from the ground and dismissed the arms he no longer needed. While he'd ultimately failed to stop the adventurer, his objective had only ever been to delay him while the more combat-capable dungeon keepers rallied to the core's defense. So even if he'd only managed to buy the others a couple minutes, the small success soothed the burning mark left on his pride by the brat's incorrigible nonchalance. Though tempted to continue clawing at him, however, ineffectually, Schnupfen decided to hang back and keep watch while the others worked their magic.

Oh. Oh no. It quickly became apparent that the situation was even more dire than Schnupfen first predicted. When Salbjorg sallied forth to put a stop to the boy's incursion, she cut quite an imposing figure despite Zoppy's presence, but things took a turn for the worse right away when she inadvertently took much the same tact as Schnupfen when it came to intimidation. She couldn't have known, of course, but retreading the same ground really did undercut her efforts. When she launched an attack using venom-drenched bone splinters, the shadow's spirits rose, but only for a moment. Despite appearances the adventurer barely seemed harmed, and that was just the beginning. Salbjorg threw herself at the boy, and despite being much bigger and tougher-looking than him, he stood as an unflinching oak, nonplussed by the large woman's very best efforts. She then suffered the indignity of her own attack turned against her, and to much greater effect, and was forced to retreat while calling out for help. The whole time Schnupfen watched in astonishment, his newly-manifested jaw increasingly slack.

After that the others tried their luck in sequence. Zogi distracted the adventurer for a moment, only to die on his wooden blade in Zoppy's defense. Schnupfen could only slap a clawed hand to his head; even if Zogi couldn't achieve much, he was surely more of an asset than that pitiable wretch. Considering that his death powered his killer up, his sacrifice was absolutely a net negative overall. Muste stepped up to bat next, his move discreet and tactical. Maybe too discreet, in fact, since while Muste did manage to knock the boy down and not suffer any damage himself, his grease trap neither damaged nor stalled the would-be hero very much. Finally, the Oracle floated onto the scene. Visually speaking it very much resembled some kind of boss monster, a fitting last line of defense for the dungeon core, and to its credit it did do its job. Shrugging off blows thanks to its immaterial body, it kept the boy busy with bothersome curses and excessively warm light. Unfortunately, it wasn't too long before the enterprising lad figured out the Oracle's weakness and incapacitated it, leaving only Zoppy, Muste, and Kleine between Danny and the dungeon core.

By then, though, the summoning should've been complete. Schnupfen peered around the core chamber from afar, looking for newly-minted monsters and weapons, but he could see only one kobold outfitted with light armor and a basic polearm. Would that lizard be enough for the keepers to hang their hopes on? Before the team could find out, the wounded Salbjorg went back for more. For some reason both she and the intruder humored Zoppy, before launching into what could only be described as slip-and-slide jousting. Schupfen buried his face in his hands, stricken with second-hand embarrassment. The shahmaran's efforts had been pitiful before, but now they were just mortifying. "Ohh, this can't be happening." If anyone was going to do something about this hellion, it would have to be Schnupfen.

As quickly as he could, the shadow floated over, manifested four hands, and grabbed a rock from amongst the rubble by one of the walls. It was only about the size of a cantaloupe, and oblong in shape, though even that was hard enough for the shrimpy specter to lift and carry. By now, the adventurer had to be at least a little beat up. He'd gotten scratched, a stubbed toe, mildly poisoned by Salbjorg, mildly concussed after his grease-induced fall, hiccups, a sunburn, and jabbed with a high heel in the face. Even if the monsters were weak, a rock was a rock, and surely it would be enough to finish him? Or at least stun him long enough for everyone to enact a death by a thousand cuts. Unfortunately, Schnupfen couldn't float very fast with his rock, but Salbjorg had one final ace up her sleeve. This new ploy of hers was actually pretty clever, and even if the glamor didn't ultimately work, it gave Schnupfen the few moments he needed. As she reverted to normal and the adventurer began to crawl away, the shadow crossed directly over him and let his missile fall.
In An Idiot's Dungeon Union → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
After Schnupfen's introduction and recommendation, the shadow ceded the floor to the two goblins, at which point things took an interesting turn. The smaller and more malformed of the two seemed to have a tentative grasp on reality. While she managed to give her name when prompted, the feeble young thing was clearly neither sound of mind nor body, a far more literal newborn than the rest of the newly-summoned dungeon keepers. Schnupfen watched from his dark corner in silent amazement as Zoppy promptly overexerted and exhausted herself, down for the count. If the shadow had any semblance of human empathy, he might have pitied the poor fool, but at the moment the question on his ethereal mind was why? The spectacle did not inspire a great deal of confidence in the dungeon core, specifically its decision-making process for recruitment, if indeed there was some form of design in play.

Things got even more chaotic when the second goblin, Zogi, jumped in to take responsibility, shift blame, and beg forgiveness for the little mutant's transgressions. To Schnupfen, the senior goblin's kowtowing seemed like a serious overreaction. By her own admission the meek, rather childish dungeon spirit was just a helper after all, more of a clerk than a boss. But...perhaps the old adage about deceiving appearances held sway here? Part of Schnupfen couldn't help but be suspicious. Maybe Zogi knew more about the dungeon's true nature than he let on, and something sinister lurked behind the little creature's furry facade? No, surely not...but just to be sure, Schnupfen resolved to be a bit more respectful. It was no skin off his back, after all, and even in the dark depths of a dungeon the golden rule -treat others how you wish to be treated- shone through.

Compared to those two, the introduction of the Oracle came with all the gravitas that one might expect of such an otherworldly entity. When its scarlet star phased into the core chamber and swept around the room, examining the entity's compatriots, Schnupfen instinctively shrank back from its searing hydrogen gaze. When he pressed himself against the wall, the shadow became two-dimensional, his enormous nose oriented sideways as a handful of eyes manifested in an involuntary defensive response. Starlight and darkness were natural enemies, after all, opposing sides of the same cosmic coin. Fortunately, his fear faded somewhat as the Oracle proceeded to demystify itself a bit, its odd speech patterns, grandiose verbiage, and reliance on dice painting a quainter, quirkier picture than its first impression implied. Still, its ability to manipulate reality -as demonstrated by its pillow conjuration- was nothing to shake a stick at.

It seemed fate was on Schnupfen's side, though, as the Oracle's dice decided upon his own name suggestion, and the dungeon spirit proceeded to adopt it. The shadow's eyes looked a little smug as he drifted back out of his wall, prior to his peepers' de-manifestation. "How serendipitous. 'Kleine' means 'little one', naturally! A term of...endearment, yes." He was somewhat paranoid of her thinking that he might be passive-aggressively mocking her, which wouldn't have been one hundred percent untruthful, but hopefully she -and the others- would assume the best.

In truth, the dungeons' new denizens had bigger fish to fry. After officially receiving the dungeon's authority, which made Schnupfen shiver and sniffle as though as a chill had run down his shadowy spine, Kleine alerted the motley crew of dungeon keepers to an unexpected intrusion. Schnupfen, distracted as he attempted to internalize all the nitty-gritty details, almost didn't hear her at first. Only when he turned his sizable schnoz in the direction of Kleine's weightless scrying mirror, bug a couple eyes out, and behold the young adventurer's foray for himself did the reality of the situation really sink in.

"WHAT!?" Schnupfen manifested several pairs of hands that he clamped to his head as eyes bulged out between his fingers, all pointed in random directions. In that instant he also realized that the boy might even be close enough to hear him, so he reduced his voice to a panicked, incredulous whisper. "There's an intruder already? He's already here? Oh, this is terrible, terrible, terrible! Sure, he looks like your everyday brat, but we're fresh out of the oven ourselves--no mobs, no gear, no traps, no power! It's basically a straight line here! And the closest thing we have to frontline fighters are goblins and a couple of rats? Oh Mother Void, why must you play such tricks on me!?" With a miserable groan, the shadow blew his nose on the rags of his sleeve, then flicked the ectoplasm away.

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed, his nostrils flaring as he drew in as much air as he could to try and clear his head. "No, no, no, don't despair just yet. All this blasted magic's making my poor head spin. Even if we lack might, we've got the brains to make this happen." He prodded his temples with clawed index fingers from either side, then turned toward the dungeon core. "Not to mention the means. We must make haste and summon as fast as possible. We must requisition variety of minions, items to kit them out, and traps to set up with the time they buy us." Schnupfen glanced at the siphonophore. "Beseech that 'holy Fate' for good fortune on our behalf, won't you, Oracle? Or your reunion with THEM will be expedient." He turned his nose toward the core room's entrance. "I can buy some time. I doubt I can meaningfully harm that jackanapes, but the reverse should be true as well. Today, he will learn that fear has a name--and that it is Schnupfen."

Letting out some snarling, ominous laughter, Schnupfen drifted away into the darkness, headed away from the core chamber and toward the main entrance. Once the dungeon expanded and assumed a more strategically sound, labyrinthine layout, being incorporeal would shave a lot more off his travel time, but he could still move fast, like leaves tumbling on a chilly autumn breeze. He doubted that an ordinary human could glimpse him in the gloom, but nevertheless he avoided the corridor's center, floating in a straight line through each room just under the ceiling until an unmistakably human shape slipped into the radius of his blindsight. Then he stopped, perfectly silent and still, practically imperceptible even if the kid did think to look upward, and took a moment to examine the intruder.

As expected, the situation was bad, not because the adventurer seemed especially capable, confident, or well-armed, but because he still posed a real threat in spite of his paltry abilities and gear. If this dungeon really fell to a brat with a wooden sword, maybe Schnupfen and the others deserved to die. After arriving and finding himself in what appeared to be a dead-end chamber, the boy had evidently been smart, creative, or lucky enough to trial-and-error his way through the first illusory wall. One more, and he would be able to see the core itself. The only thing in his way was his own preconceived notion that a second illusory wall couldn't possibly be directly ahead from the first one.

That, and Schnupfen, of course.

The shadow could waste no more time. As the boy neared the center of the second rightmost chamber, Schnupfen drifted down and around him, giving him a wide berth. His pitch-black claws plucked a small stone from the floor, which he hurled down the hall that the intruder had come through. Thanks to his meager strength it didn't go far, but it made enough of a clatter that the boy stopped cold and whipped around with a sound somewhere between a yelp and a gasp. "Who's there?"

Silence was his only reply. A couple seconds passed before he dared to breath. "Knew I should've brought a torch," he muttered. The little wall sconces made it bright enough that he could find his way, but they left lots of dark corners. When he turned to continue, he heard the sound of claws scraping on stone. This time he rushed toward the wall the sound was coming from, but when he got there he found no sign of any monsters. The next moment, another clatter from a thrown pebble, in front of him this time. "Enough!" he called into the darkness as he stepped forward. He clenched his fist as he waved his sword. "Come out and face me! I'm not scared of you!"

"Are you lost, little lamb?"

The voice was raspy, ethereal, and monstrously inhuman, with only a trace of Schnupfen's accent. It seemed to come from several directions, thanks to the multiple mouths the shadow had manifested on extended arms to whisper with. When he heard it the kid jumped, looking around in all directions to try and pinpoint the source, his teeth clenched as goosebumps races across his skin.

"You're awfully far from home," the evil voice drawled. "Aren't you afraid of the dark?"

"No!" the boy barked into the darkness, defiant. "I'm not afraid of anyone anymore!" To prove it, he began to move, walking along the room's perimeter with one hand against the wall, trying to feel for illusions.

Schnupfen knew he had to act fast to stop him. He floated down, approaching the adventurer from behind. He wanted to manifest a half-dozen arms and slash him with pitch-black claws, or perhaps close his fingers around the brat's throat and choke the life from him, but if his strength proved insufficient it would only toughen the stubborn kid's resolve. "Oh, little lamb," he murmured as he reached out to tap the boy on the shoulder. "You should be."

"Aah!"

Alarmed, the adventurer's fight-or-flight reflex kicked in, and he chose fight. He whirled around, and his wooden sword swept through the shadowy, tattered mass of Schnupfen's body. The specter cackled as he cascaded downward, becoming a two-dimensional blotch on the floor beneath and around the intruder. Psychedelic eyes bulged out of the shadow, looking around wildly before fixating on the young man above them. "I see you!"

"Gah! Ahh! Hah! HAH!" The boy went for the eyes, first stabbing at them with his sword, them just stomping on them with his boots. No matter how many times he tried, though, his attacks never seemed to have any effect. If an eye disappeared, a new one just appeared elsewhere in a fantastical game of whack-a-mole. It wasn't long, though, before his panic -and his efforts- began to wane.

Schnupfen's eyes blinked at him. "Why have you stopped?"

"It's a trick," the intruder muttered, his eyes lighting up. "Just like the walls!"

The shadow's eyes narrowed. "Oh, foolish little lamb. Your nightmare has only just begun..."

The adventurer crossed his arms. "If you could actually hurt me, you wouldn't need to try and scare me off!" He began to move. "And like I said before, I'm not scared!"

"Wait, hold on-" Schnupfen's voice started to falter as he hurried to manifest hands that rose from the shadow to grasp at the boy's feet and legs, only for him to kick loose pretty easily. He did stumble, but as luck would have it, he stumbled straight toward the second illusory wall. Schnupfen tried to grab at him to no avail, his voice lapsing completely. "Oh, for fuck's sake..."
In An Idiot's Dungeon Union → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Neat! I spotted the gacha rules in the IC OP. As attractive as the beginners' banners are, I think Schnupfen would recommend pulling on the standard banner because a variety of monsters, equipment, and dungeon elements sounds best right now rather than investing into one branch.

Although our frontline is effectively one goblin and some rats, Schnupfen's in a unique position if this adventurer really just has a sword, in that neither of them can effectively hurt each other. He'll probably volunteer to go ahead to try and delay the boy by spooking and misdirecting him (as much as possible, since Burger mentioned he wouldn't be that affected by appearances either) in order to give the others time to gacha and make the most of it.
In World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover) → 11 mos ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Esaka’s Low Tier / Middle Tier

Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (146/150) Level 11 Big Band (46/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Zenkichi’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
Word Count: 1861 / 1310


With Yayama successfully talked down and nobody else in their way, Nadia and Asher could finally bring their duel to a close. Once the latter declared, “Let’s finish this,” she began a slow, confident walk forward. Despite her opponent’s improbable second wind, the proud bruiser brimmed with confidence, and her dauntless swagger assuaged the gnawing concerns of the spectators upstairs. Nadia could respect how badass Asher looked right now, but she couldn’t wait to humble her, to show Yayama that de-escalation had been the right choice. Most of all, she was ready to show those gamblers just how badly they’d miscalculated. Today, Fortune wasn’t in their favor.

“Aaaalrighty then,” Nadia announced, placing one hand on her noggin. With a bowing motion she cleanly detached her head, much to the shock of the onlookers, then held it like a bowling ball. “Heady or not, here I come!” With a cheeky laugh she rolled her head across the floor toward Asher. When it began to lose momentum it face-planted, then shot blood from her neck to rocket-propel her across the floor. Asher had been taken by surprise for a moment, but as the head drew close she gathered herself to punt it like a football. As one might imagine, though, Nadia was one step a-head. “Careful~” In the distance her body had crouched down on all fours, her tail in the air and wriggling as she prepared to pounce. “I charge extra!”

With a violent crackling buzz her body bolted across the first floor in the form of a lightning bolt, blasting into and through Asher. As she reeled, Nadia’s body coalesced behind her, even as her voice came from in front. “Arm-a gonna getcha!” In a flash the feral’s arms momentarily transformed into the limbs of a white tiger, and when she used them to slash Asher’s back with Battery, they inflicted two Marks to cut her target’s defense by ten percent total.

Normally Nadia couldn’t combo off Battery thanks to the extra knockback from the critical hits, but this time her incoming cranium smacked Asher head-on from the opposite side, knocking her back toward Nadia. As the feral followed up with a roundhouse, both her Elation boons kicked in to boost her damage and speed slightly. Nadia unleashed a Limber Up high kick to pop her foe into the air. “It’s high time!” From there she rattled off a quick slash, a one-two leg strike, and a hellish copter before finishing with an El Gato axe kick to spike Asher to the ground. “Get your kicks!” The feral landed mid-bounce, then spent one bar of Dramatic Tension on a level-one blockbuster. “Let’s cut to the chase!” Her Furrserker Purrage brought both from one side of the stage to the other in a flurry of advancing claw slashes. For the final hit, she spun one arm like a drill to send Asher spinning across the floor. “Get the point?”

All around, a number of spectators focused on the tag match refocused on the one-on-one, astonished by what they were seeing. Tension began to rise as gamblers began to realize just how much Nadia had been holding back in the first round of her fight, and excitement mounted among the brave -or very wise- few who’d bet in her favor.

“Oh no…”

“This is some bull-”

“Always play the odds, baby!”

“Random crits are fair and balanced.”

“I knew it! Rob ‘em blind!”

“Wow, I sure love not having the Heavenly Principles involved.”

“What is this cheese!?”

Though her grin stretched ear to ear, Nadia tried to shut them out, and focus on her pressure. As Asher recovered, bruised but angry and ready to take revenge, the feral brought her head over, popped it up with a kick, then bumped it like a volleyball toward her foe’s head. This time Asher blocked the tricky projectile, but that gave Nadia time to get in. She tested her foe’s guard with two light slashes, then just reached around the shields and grabbed her. In an instant she extruded a huge mass of muscle fiber, trapping Asher in a fleshy yarn ball, then rolled onto her back to bat it around. “I’m havin’ a ball!” After a moment she tossed Asher away, her fibers snaking back inside her, and as the two regained their feet the feral made a call. “Rhodeiaaa!”

Behind her, an ghostly siren manifested, and streams of water began to dance around it. As she got to work, Nadia sprinted ahead on all fours, only to take a surprise armored shield charge to the face. “Bleh!” Asher’s blow sent her tumbling back, but by the time she rose, two Hydro Mimics of the feral had been summoned by Rhodeia.

Asher grit her teeth. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Huh? Water you lookin’ at?” Increasingly giddy, Nadia taunted alongside her two copycats, prompting Asher to attack. She sent her shields whirling forward like buzz saws, and Nadia pointed, sending the hydro mimics. They each darted forward in order to intercept a shield by blocking, and then Nadia sped past. She scooped up her head, jumped, and spiked it down. Asher stepped forward, dodging the head, then cut Nadia’s airdash short with a well-placed uppercut. “Oof!” The bruiser leaped up, grabbed a shield, then used it to wallop Nadia down. She landed by the fallen feral with a slam, then tried to grab her, just as Nadia attempted a grab of her own. The two batted each other away, pushed apart, but Asher brought her floating shields together in a massive clap. Nadia attempted a Blue Monday counter, but the shields functioned as projectiles, so it didn’t work. Instead she got stunned, then floored by a haymaker, only to spring back into action when her head chomped Asher from behind. “Omnomnomnom!” Her copycats charged forward, the first to perform Cat Slide and knock Asher off her feet, and the second to bounce her off the ground with El Gato. Finally, Nadia herself transformed her legs with Fluffy Soft, then ran in faster than ever to send Asher flying with a dropkick. “Paws button!”

When her foe stopped tumbling, she rose slower than before, breathing heavily. Things weren’t looking good, but she still had some fight left in her. Both fighters hesitated for a moment as Terry unleashed a column of energy, blowing clean through the Teahouse’s roof. Something told Asher that there wouldn’t be any more fights in here for a while. She mustered what strength she had left. “This isn’t over!”

Nadia grinned as she turned away from the distraction. “Then prove it!”

The three catgirls charged, and Asher took action. She cast one shield forward as a barrier to separate them, staggering their attacks. When the first Hydro Mimic attacked with a kick, it struck her shield and got blasted away. The next went for a slash that Asher side-stepped, then countered with a powerful hook punch to the jaw that crumpled the clone to the ground. Finally, Nadia herself swept in, and this time her schemes paid off. Asher’s attempted upset punch struck Nadia’s Blue Monday counter, and after her knee popped the bruiser into the air, the catgirl grabbed her, slammed her down, then finished with an elbow drop to drive Asher’s wind from her lungs.

At the perfect moment, Wounds of Plenty activated. Crazed laughter resounded through the Teahouse as the Elation’s aftertaste locked Asher in hitstun. In a frenzy Nadia launched into an Unchain combo. She started with a Step to close the distance, punched low with Under Blow, performed a high Sobat kick, then finished with a rolling flip kick to send Asher tumbling. The bruiser rolled to her feet, disheveled and on her last legs, knowing this was her last chance. When she looked around, though, she saw no trace of Nadia–only a trail of yellow electricity leading into the air. She looked up at the last moment as the feral descended with a massive curtain-shredding double claw slash, raking not just across her torso, but through her sarashi.

“Ugh!” Asher dropped to one knee as her bandages fell apart, quickly covering herself with one arm. Her face turned beet-red as she struggled to catch her breath, her strength spent. “Hey! You-! You-!”

The catgirl shrugged as she turned away. “You know what they say: all’s fair in love and war-drobe malfunction!” She grinned mischievously. “Maybe you oughta wear bandages after you get hurt. As for me…” She raised one arm in victory. “I think that’s a win!”

Madam Bo and her staff stepped in to help clean things up. Asher stormed off as fast as her injuries could allow, her face even redder than her hair, and upstairs the money changed hands. Nadia retired to her table, and after a few minutes a server arrived with a silver platter. Nadia grinned, licking her lips, and lifted the lid to reveal a pile of zenny. A small pile. Much smaller than she expected, actually. “Huh.“ She furrowed her brow. “That’s…no way that’s it, right?”

Since the other fight had finished by this time, Nadia found her way to Sakura. “Hey, uh…not to be greedy or anythin’, but is this, like…a normal amount to win?”

As it turned out, while Nadia had engineered a big upset, there just hadn’t been that many people and yokai betting to begin with, they didn’t bet any huge amounts, and Nadia herself only got a cut of the total payout. Her winnings were enough to pay for a meal or two, maybe a night’s stay in some motel, but no more than that. Worse still, even though Amaterasu had fixed the hole in the Teahouse’s ceiling, Madam Bo was angry enough at the collateral damage to close up shop for the day. Seekers and spectators alike had five minutes to finish their business and make themselves scarce, and if anyone wrecked anything else, they could look forward to a brutal smack to the face from her shoe. “Aw, maaan,” the feral sighed, sulking in her chair with the wind taken out of her sails. “After I put on such a big show, too…” Making her fortune in fight clubs like this seemed like it’d take more time and effort than it was worth.

After draining her glass, Nadia stood up again. Nobody around here seemed happy, least of all the spectators who got hustled. Even if Madam Bo wasn’t making everyone leave, this pond was dry. With a sigh, the feral got up, paid her tab, and headed for the door. “Don’t wait up for me, guys. I’m headin’ up to the High Tier. See ya later!” Anyone familiar with the cat burglar could probably guess at what she intended to do there. On the way out, she glanced at Yayama, wondering what the lalafell was thinking after all this ludicrous spectacle. Nadia gave her a cheeky salute just to be sure, then ducked out into the afternoon sunlight.



Once out of the temple, Band met back up with Harry, Kim, and Zenkichi, with no sign of Roland or Pit anywhere. While the first two detectives hadn’t found much of anything, the former Turk had discovered the name of somewhere the team might be able to stay, not too far from their current location. “Good to know,” he remarked. It wouldn’t hurt to head that way, but Band had a sneaking suspicion that none of them could afford a week-long stay even in a cut-rate motel. No amount of digging through dumpsters for lost change would turn up that kind of money, either. Although the detectives had set out to learn more about Esaka, they now found themselves stuck in the same predicament that the other detachment of Seekers had set out to solve. Band sure didn’t relish the prospect of having to fight for his meals or find some place in need of temporary workers. Well, nothing for it but to keep looking around, he supposed.

Band continued to peruse the streets of Esaka’s Middle Tier, combing over the middle-class cityscape at a leisurely pace. He did not intend to lead, and nor did he intend the others to follow, but the fact that they continued to stay in close proximity was probably for the best. Strength in numbers, and all that. Not that he saw a great deal of danger in his trek. Of course, since the overwhelming majority of Esaka’s citizens were fighters of some stripe, there were plenty of rough-and-tumble denizens around, with a variety of beefy biceps and weapons on display just about everywhere Band looked, but few seemed to get into trouble. He could only guess that everyone being more or less able to fend for themselves evened the playing field, creating a strong social contract in which everyone (at least within each tier) generally treated one another with fairness and respect. At the same time, though, Band detected undercurrents of unease and dread. While things seemed calm on the surface, the presence of so many strong personalities in close proximity could mean that this place was a powder-keg, ready to blow sky-high if something slipped. Was it the Four Kings keeping everyone in line? The Heavenly Principles? Band couldn’t help but worry about what would happen to Esaka once the Four Kings were gone, and even before that, what the Kings might do to keep themselves safe.

After wandering for a while, and just listening both to the citizens and the city itself, Band finally found what looked like a disturbance. A loose crowd of people had gathered in a circle, with a mostly empty space in the center. To Band that suggested an impromptu audience for a street fight, but he heard no exchange of blows nor elevated voices. As he got closer, his height allowed him to peer over most folks’ heads to get an idea of what might be going on in the middle. Two black men with black shorts and red fighting gloves, their primarily blue outfits bearing red and white highlights, stood dangerously close, their faces mere inches away from another as they squared off. Both were brawny, but the hooded man with gold accessories had at least seventy pounds and five inches on the other man, who was leaner, with scarred arms, a high-top hairstyle, and a goatee. Nevertheless, he did not bat an eye as he stared up at his counterpart’s pinpoint peepers.

Some of the onlookers were egging their favorite on, while others encouraged them to not give the other the time of day. Most just wanted to see what would happen as a result of these flaring tensions and tempers. Band stopped at the edge of the crowd to listen as the two traded barbed words.

“I’ve had just about enough of folks callin’ us clones, Combo,” the bigger man seethed. “Li’l shrimp like you’s got nothin’ on a ragin’ bull like me. Musta been why you got those implants–tryin’ to punch above your weight class.”

TJ Combo did not flinch. “I don’t got ‘em anymore, Balrog. But I ain’t scared to punch up either, ‘specially if I got some two-bit thug crampin’ my style. Sure, you’re big, but while I’ve been goin’ straight, I’m always hearin’ how you keep on fightin’ dirty. Headbutts, elbows, foot stomps. If that’s what strength looks like to you, all them muscles must be for show.”

The two went back and forth like that, getting angrier and angrier, especially Balrog, who seemed to have a lot less self-control than TJ. A brutal fight seemed imminent, but that wasn’t the only reason why he felt inclined to step in. It sounded like these men had been forced into a feud by popular opinion, being superficially similar enough to receive the derogatory appellation ‘clone’. As a black man himself, he didn’t like that these men seemed to be typecast and pitted against one another for others’ entertainment. Sure, it might be none of his business, but he couldn’t staunch his misgivings. After a few moments, Band pushed into the crowd.

“Hey, you two! Break it up!” The spectators parted around him like fish around a shark as he approached. Both TJ and Balrog looked his way, neither happy for the interruption. “Big Band, NMPD.” The detective flashed his badge. Even if he hadn’t actually been part of that police department for a long time, the prop occasionally still came in handy. “Break it up, fellas. You’re fixin’ to disturb the peace.”

“Hah,” Balrog grunted, shouldering TJ aside as he turned an exceptionally ornery face Band’s way. He seemed to regard the detective with scorn, as if he’d personally wronged him somehow. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, man. How ‘bout you run along and leave us to our business?”

TJ took a different tact. “Ain’t ever heard of the NMPD,” he told Band. “Somethin’ tells me you’re outta your jurisdiction.”

Looking between the two, Band gave them a pleading look. “C’mon, brothers. We don’t gotta be doin’ this.”

Balrog bared his teeth. “You ain’t my brother, cop. I ain’t anythin’ like either of ya.” He turned back toward TJ. “There ain’t enough room at the top for two champs. We’re gonna finish this, one way or another.”

“Man’s got a point, though. This ain’t the time or the place to settle the score,” TJ told him. He seemed more sympathetic to Band, though it was difficult for him to tell. “I know you in World Warrior, Balrog. I’ll meet you in bracket, where we’ll decide who’s champ for all of Esaka to see.” He crossed his arms. “So you better hit the speed bag, big dog, ‘cause I don’t want you fallin’ outta bracket unless it’s my gloves punchin’ you out!”

“Hah! Keep talkin’ your shit while you still can! I’m gonna enjoy seein’ the look on your face when I knock your pansy ass flat, Combo!” Balrog spat, his spittle flying.

“Fellas,” Band interjected, his voice hard and insistent.

After a long, mean stare, the two boxers pulled apart, going their separate ways. The crowd evaporated, leaving Band and the other detectives behind. Shaking his head, the cyborg let out a sigh. He glanced at Harry. “Guess we’ll have our work cut out for us startin’ tomorrow.” It sounded like World Warrior was the most popular tournament, which meant a lot of opponents to chew through before even getting close to the Seekers’ goal. This was going to be difficult, and Band was already regretting his choice.

By now it had been about an hour since lunch, and the detectives still weren’t any richer than before. They resumed their trek, searching the Middle Tier’s streets for any useful information.

Krat Zoo - Botanical Garden

Lvl 8 Sandalphon (76/80) Level 5 Heismay (39/50)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Geralt’s @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double, Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2018

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 7/8 | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/(None)/(None)/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat


Before setting off, Sandalphon took the opportunity to rendezvous with Ramattra. When he returned alone, save for the dogs bound to his sled, she could only assume the worst about the others. Her worries proved unfounded, though, as Ramattra reported that the others had made it. “Good.” She glanced at the materials he’d retrieved. Hopefully someone else could put them to good use, since tinkering was not at all her forte. When her eyes returned to Ramattra during his question, her pupils were X’s. “I’m afraid I do not know the monastery’s whereabouts. I can keep an eye out for it as we continue, however.”

As Sectonia buzzed off to investigate the part of the Hall of Adventure hinted at by the letter within her decrypted vessel, a few teammates gathered around to join Sandalphon’s foray into the Botanical Garden. While two monster hunters and two primarily ranged strategists did not make for the most diverse expedition, the archangel had a high degree of confidence in all three men. Plus, an excursion into the climate-controlled greenhouse would help warm Geralt up after his dip in the flooded Safari Zone’s frigid waters. Ramattra, meanwhile, was more of a liability while gleaming, but maybe the team would find an opportunity to free him within this structure.

Inside, the Seekers quickly became acquainted with the Botanical Garden’s defenders. Slender, elegant, and deadly Arche Puppets patrolled its winding walkways. Rather than any conventional weapons, they wielded their long, tempered limbs for a variety of quick, precise kicks. They also fought with surprising cohesion, attempting to maneuver to advantageous positions and to block when their opponents went on the offensive. Their presence confirmed to the archangel that Markiona herself must be here somewhere, lurking behind the scenes. The Seekers would have to proceed under the assumption that the Puppeteer of Death was watching, whether or not she chose to speak to them again.

While Sandalphon and the others managed to skirt around a few of them, they were forced to fight more than once. Naturally Sandalphon supported the others with well-placed shots from afar, grateful whenever the hexagun’s special effect kicked in to transform a formidable Arche Puppet into a hapless chicken. They made good progress, but it wasn’t long before a large-scale brawl got underway in one of the more open areas with a number of Arche Puppets pitted against Edward’s own mechanical minions. Metallic feet trampled colorful flowers, ancient ferns, and rare cacti underfoot as increasingly numerous automata fought back and forth, dexterity and speed against strength and durability. Reasoning that the spectacle would draw the defenders’ attention, giving his allies a chance to explore, the others left the tactician to it and head further in.

The Botanical Garden offered the newcomers a perplexingly unintuitive layout. Designed to guide visitors on a journey that fully utilized every available inch to showcase its myriad flora, the main route snaked around trees, walls, locked gates, and small animal enclosures. Sandalphon knew that she could simply vault over the various barriers, but she didn’t want to blindly leap into any ambushes, so she stuck to the intended path alongside Geralt and Ace. Together they made short work of the few puppets that remained in their path, steadily moving clockwise through the warm, spacious interior. Sandalphon examined the various plants as she went, avoiding any specimens that seemed excessively volatile or voracious. She identified plenty of edible vegetables that could be thrown into the stewpot outside, or perhaps hoarded and sent to the Avenger, but the manual labor of collecting them could be left to the golems that survived Edward’s skirmish.

Soon, the team gained some elevation and began to circle around the elevated walkway along the perimeter wall. It gave them a better look at the gardens’ layout, as well as the conclusion of the impromptu battle. With the puppets destroyed and a handful of troops tasked with the harvest, Edward got moving as well, using his wings to bypass the black iron ladders and catwalks in order to reach the highest point in the building. Meanwhile, once Ace spotted a likely way through from his vantage point, he forged ahead while Geralt, Ramattra, and Sandalphon followed behind. One after another, they crossed cobbled plaza between a couple cagelike enclosures, one cylindrical and one square, then hiked across an arched stone bridge. That bridge led over a verdant enclosure where thick, vibrant foliage seemed to shine under the brilliant fairy-light of Star Bramble bulbs, among which the last few Arche Puppets stalked, their faces motionless and doll-like.

Though none of them were particularly gifted in stealth, the trio managed to avoid alerting them, then descended from the bridge to find themselves on a secluded walkway. On one end stood a gate, locked from this side, which Ace could easily unlock to open the way back to the Botanical Garden’s entrance. On the other side, an elaborate gizmo stood near a set of double doors, its soft blue glow attracting azure butterflies as its delicate clockwork instruments clicked and spun. According to Sandalphon’s mental map, this ought to be the way through to the greenhouse. Since there had been no sign of Markiona during her contingent’s excursion so far, there were only a couple unexplored spots left where she could be. And though the stargaze contraption seemed to pose no threat, and Sandalphon couldn’t find any obvious signs of danger, this greenery-lined corridor still seemed oddly sinister to her. She couldn’t help but be curious about what lay behind those doors.

When Edward called her, the archangel half-expected him to report that he’d discovered Markiona. Instead, it seemed he’d found some sort of workshop or study, stuffed with research material and overseen by some sort of prototype held aloft by wires. An information cache was exactly what Sandalphon had been hoping to discover since she first arrived in Krat Zoo, and she knew nobody was better suited to peruse the Alchemists’ documents. “I’ll be right there,” she replied, only to hesitate when she turned to report to Ace, Ramattra, and Geralt. These hunters were plenty capable, of course, but she didn’t want to shirk her duty as a leader -not to mention healer- if danger really did lurk beyond these doors. “That said, it would be ill-advised for me to abandon you three,” she admitted, her pupils becoming inverted triangles. “Perhaps I should remain to support you?”

“Having second thoughts?” When Sandalphon turned to look, she found Heismay hanging upside-down from the leafy limb of a monkey puzzle tree. It did not surprise her to see the eugief here, and she could only assume he’d discreetly tailed her team as extra insurance against any unseen threats. “I can join these two, if you like,” he offered. “If there’s any chance to learn more about what happened in this dreadful place, and to prevent it happening again, you should take it.”

Sandalphon nodded. While Heismay was no substitute for a healer, four Seekers would always be better than three. “Be careful,” she told them.

The archangel then disappeared, using her link skill to warp to Edward’s side rather than wear herself out climbing ladders. When the column of light dispersed, she stood at the tactician’s side, and thanks to his newly summoned Bronze Golems it was a little cramped in this chamber. She left him to dismantle the nonfunctional winged puppet, carefully maneuvered between a couple of the burly constructs, and bent over the nearest desk to begin reading. Her specialized eyes scanned document after document with inhuman speed, internalizing every report, memo, and research paper. Ergo, the Petrification Disease, puppets, Kroud, and carcasses…these documents covered a lot of topics. The team’s most pressing concerns were the carcasses and their potentially infectious contagion that had turned the once-proud Krat Zoo into a menagerie of twisted monstrosities, and on that subject Sandalphon found a lot of good news.

As she read more about the Petrification Disease and ergo, however, the sounds of tinkering faded further into the background. With bated breath she absorbed every theory, experiment, and finding, her mind racing. At certain points she could scarcely believe what she was reading, but the men and women who’d penned these papers had been scientists through and through, testing each conjecture without regard for consequences or cost. Could this be what she’d been searching for?

In short order, Sandalphon knew everything she needed to know. She knew what she needed to do, even if it filled her nascent human side with fear. She had no other options presently, and precious little time. Maybe a more pleasant option would arise within the coming days, but she couldn’t hang her hopes on that remote possibility. This evening, when the Seekers finally stopped to set up camp for the night, she would have to put this plan into action. After a few moments Sandalphon lifted her gaze, staring out the penthouse windows into the overcast gloom with pupils like empty rings. For the first time since awakening today she allowed her eyes to close as she breathed in, then out. There was no knowing if this plan would work, and even if it did, things would never be the same. Starting tonight, the archangel would have to say her prayers, as long and hard as she could.

Downstairs, she could hear loud noises from the direction of the greenhouse. Quickly the archangel collected all the most sensitive documents into a briefcase, then warped back to her starting point next to the stargazer.

Shortly prior, Heismay had lent his strength to the task of pushing the doors open, more as a show of good faith to the Cadet and the Witcher than as an actual help. When the doors opened wide, they revealed the greenhouse in all its splendor, a single massive open room with a variety of enormous, exotic trees around its fringes. Most of the greenhouse was empty space, though, with nothing but uneven cobblestones and patches of grass in between the floor and the vaulted glass ceiling.



Without daylight to pour in through the domed windowpanes, it was dark in this spacious atrium, but Heismay could see one thing of note through the gloom. All the way on the other side of this derelict dance floor stood a strange throne constructed from welded puppet remains, and on that chair lounged a woman with her legs crossed. Her skin was a pale, stony slate blue, but her hair was blonde, parted off-center as curtains to frame her beautiful face and ruby-red eyes. She wore a corset, tight black leather pants, and a white silk shirt with puffy short sleeves, her look completed by a fur-lined collar, red necklace, and black fingerless gloves. On her left hand she also wore an odd, disc-shaped device, with brass cables embedded beneath her skin. A long blue fingernail teased her bottom lip before she began to speak.

“I was told that a murderous puppet would come to call on me,” she remarked, her English accent rather husky. “So who are these handsome guests standing before me?” With Heismay hidden in the shadow of a tree by the door, she only seemed to be looking at Ace, Ramttra, and Geralt. This must be Markiona, Heismay realized, the elusive Puppeteer of Death. She sighed, uncrossed her legs, and stood. “It matters not.” When she held up her hand blue strings shot out of her fingertips and snaked upward through the air, flying toward something white that squatted among the branches of the tree behind her. They plugged into the mechanical shape, and as it came to life it not only unfurled large wings, but brandished a huge mace. It took flight, soaring through the heights of the greenhouse before swooping down to Markiona’s side. The Queen’s Arche Puppet loomed half again as tall as its master, connected to her by ethereal strings.

Markiona smiled at her visitors. “You belong to me now.”
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