Member
DancesWMonsters
Archmage MC
Dyelli Beybi
TruthHurts
FujiwaraPhoenix
Bingelly
XoXKieroBombXoX
darkred
Zoey Boey
StarlanceEsaka’s Middle Tier
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (166/150) Level 11 Big Band (60/110)
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: 1774 / 1090
Her ears rang. Her head swam. Despite the comfortable numbness steadily built up by years of near-constant muscle stretching, bloodletting, scar opening, and other such reckless misuses of her supernatural physiology, every inch of her body was alight with pain. When that robot detonated, it didn’t just erupt into flames; its metallic body also turned it into a giant fragmentation grenade. For a time, it was a mercy that she couldn’t open her eyes to see the state she was in. She could only bear the pain as her scorched parts instinctively sought one another, slowly pulling themselves together as the Life Gem knit new flesh to patch her body up, piece by piece. Things slowly shifted around to where they should be, and foreign objects were expelled. All the while, she was only dimly aware of her upper half dragging itself away through the rubble with one arm. More explosions went off in the background that sounded more distant than they were, and foul, acrid smells filled her nose.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Nadia tentatively opened her eyes and found that she’d somehow made it into the park behind the motel. She lay at the foot of a tree, partially hidden by a verdant bush, and her parts lay scattered around her upper half. Gingerly she reattached them, mindful of the half-healed wounds that still covered her form. One of her ears was bent and hurt when she tried to straighten it. Where was her left arm? She couldn’t see it or feel it anywhere. The fingers of her left hand wouldn’t respond when she tried to flex them. Groaning, Nadia looked herself over. Miraculously her clothes had survived the blast, but that was little comfort. Her stylish outfit was ruined beyond repair, and it would probably take a trip back to Gerudo town and Yuria’s mystical tailor shop to get a new set. Of course, that was the least of her concerns right now. Where was her linkpearl…?
Desperate for relief, she pulled the Ripened Heart from its pouch and pressed it to her chest to speed up her recovery as she raised her head to take in the awful scene before her. In the aftermath of the Jack-5s’ assault, Banishing Flats was a blasted, burning ruin. That grotesque, desecrated parody of its former glory, painted in ash, was deeply hideous to her. Were those ashes mere soot from the burning building, or from the bodies of innocents killed in the attack? How many belonged to her fellow Seekers?
Her heart, calmed by the dulling pain, began to race again as ice-cold horror clawed her brain stem. In the heat of the moment Nadia hadn’t recognized those robots, but now she remembered why they looked so familiar. She’d seen several out in front of that G-Corp skyscraper, standing guard. And she’d stolen from their master, Kazuya Mishima. The main Terry called a devil. She’d already realized that this must be his doing, his revenge for her theft. Which meant…that this was all her fault.
A shaky laugh rattled its way out of her chest. She staggered upright, using the tree trunk behind her for support. Gritting her teeth, she clamped her palm to her eye socket, then shook her head. “No…no…” Surely the others survived the attack as well. They weren’t the caliber of heroes who could be killed in a cheap surprise attack like this…right? But even if they survived, it was still her fault for putting them in jeopardy. The blood of everyone else in Banishing Flats -that Mecha Zangief at a minimum- was on her hands. Guilt rose in her throat like bile, thick and heavy. She wanted to totter back toward the motel to see if the others were okay, and help however she could, but shame held her captive. Wracked by sudden coughing, she turned, head bowed, and ran away.
Her heart pumped in her chest, its rhythm accelerated by the iron grip of terror that squeezed it like a stress ball. Her breaths were sharp, serrated even, leaving her throat raw and ragged as they tore from her lungs. Her body ached from burns, bruises, and slash wounds, the Life Gem running low on juice. Her sore feet pounded the asphalt pavement and concrete sidewalks as she darted and dodged through Esaka. Nadia didn’t know where she was going. Only that she needed to get away. As she went, though, she became more and more convinced that someone was pursuing her. After sprinting down a brightly lit street, her panicked adrenaline flagging, she stumbled against a chain link fence. When she looked over her shoulder, her nervous gaze landed on the giant fang-toothed mascot of Shark Wars, then turned toward the burly, shadowy figure silhouetted by the glare of the CesariO ad above it. “Just…” Nadia gasped, forcing out each word like a hairball. “Just leave me alone!”
“Whoa, whoa, easy! It’s me!” As the figure advanced, Nadia saw that it wasn’t a Jack-5 at all, but a familiar burly, hairy guy in a wolf pelt, hastily thrown on over a white tank top and flannel pajama pants. It was Beowulf, the good-natured wrestler she met at the NMO dojo that morning alongside Annie, Filia, and Robo-Fortune. For a washed-up has-been pushing forty, he was certainly a sight for sore eyes. “I heard a commotion,” he explained, carefully approaching with his hands held out for placation. “When I went to see what happened, I thought I saw you runnin’ away. And here you are!” His smile faded as his brows scrunched together. “What happened? You look awful!”
Nadia couldn’t help but laugh as the last bit of fight drained from her. She slumped toward him, and luckily he managed to catch her before she fell. “Beowulf…” she coughed. “I screwed up…”
“Easy, easy. It’s okay. Uh…where’s your arm?” He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, then took a deep breath and scooped her up into his arms. “N-nevermind. Let’s get you to the dojo, it’s just down the road. Annie’ll know what to do.”
Five hours later, Nadia’s crusty eyes slowly opened as she awoke on the couch in the apartment owned by Annie. The celebrated Girl of the Stars lived simply, frugally, and joylessly, as it turned out. It lacked decor and luxury, without the faintest hint of its sole tenant’s storied film career. Annie’s apartment could just as easily have belonged to a divorced accountant in her fifties. Her couch had been comfortable enough though, and Nadia couldn’t thank Annie enough for letting her stay here (or for giving her a spare white t-shirt and gray sweatpants to wear, even if they were too small), but she’d slept terribly, kept on edge by the possibility of another attack and the guilt that needled her heart. Her eyes darted between the door and the windows, every moment spent dreading the arrival of more Jack-5’s.
According to the clock on the wall, it was now nearly seven AM. Only two hours until the tournament started, she remembered, although now competing in an event like that sounded like hell. For the most part, her wounds had healed, although the depletion of the Life Heart’s power left her a lot more scarred than usual. Those burns in particular were stubborn; it would probably be days before her skin recovered completely. Her left arm was still missing, and while she could feel it again, the catgirl had no idea where it was. Part of her needed to know that the other Seekers were okay, but how could Nadia show her face around them again? How could they ever forgive her? Better that she lost her linkpearl, and better yet the Seekers think she died in that explosion, claimed by karmic justice.
“Ohh…when am I gonna learn my lesson…?” With a long, low groan, Nadia sat up on the couch. She tried to rub her eyes, got confused when it only worked on one side, and then remembered that her left arm was gone. “I’ve got nothing ‘left’,” she muttered, laughing weakly. “But now…guess I’ll be…all right! Heeheehee…”
Standing in the doorway in mint-green PJs, Annie pursed her lips, her brow over her remaining eye furrowed in concern. “You-”
“Ack!” Nadia jumped up out of the couch in fright, her tail scared stiff.
“...You probably ought to see a doctor,” Annie finished before walking across the apartment living room toward the kitchen.
The feral held her head in her hand. “I’m okay, seriously. Come back from worse than this be-fur.”
“Uh huh.” Annie opened a cupboard to retrieve two bowls, spoons, and a box of Throw Loops cereal, which she proceeded to pour. She slid the bowl across the counter toward Nadia as the catgirl got up. “Here. Gonna need all the strength you’ve got for Mortal Kombat today. ‘Specially if you only have one arm.” She gave her guest the side-eye, unsurprised, as she groaned again. “Unless you’re gonna throw in the towel. Honestly, nobody could blame you.”
Nadia sifted through the cereal in her bowl with her spoon, squeezing her eyes shut. After a moment, she made her choice. “Nah. Even if I’m off the team, I still got a job to do. Maybe…if I win Mortal Kombat for ‘em, the others might let me back.”
“It’d probably help,” Annie told her with a shrug.
Her nonchalance prompted a chuckle from Nadia. :”Wow, so motivational. Aren’t you, like, the coach or something?”
“No? I just know better than everyone else,” Annie gave her a wry smile. “I know that sounds…egotistical, but c’mon. You’ve met Beowulf.”
Nadia nodded solemnly. “Classic himbo.”
“Robo-fortune is…yeah.” Annie grimaced. “And Filia, she’s sweet, bless her heart, but I swear. That parasite on her head must be sucking out her brain juice or something…”
At that, the feral could only giggle helplessly. “If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, I guess it’s workin’.”
Annie did not crack a smile. “Do I look like I’m kidding around? Whatever, good for you. Hurry and eat up. Got to go find yourself a new outfit. I’m not having you get fatalitied in my favorite sweats.”
“Okay, okay.” Nadia sighed and put a spoonful of Throw Loops in her mouth. Last night had been awful, and maybe broken some things beyond repair, but Nadia Fortune was never somebody to roll over and die. No choice but to play the hand she was dealt, and make better choices next time.
If nothing else, she still had a lot of money!
Elsewhere in Esaka, other Seekers were gathering themselves. Compared to Ms Fortune, Yayama, Harry, and many of the others, Big band hadn’t suffered as rude an awakening the night before. While the Jack-5s came out in force, there hadn’t been nearly enough to assign one to every tenanted room in Banishing Flats, since that would have been overkill even if the organizers of the raid cared to find out that figure. As such, Band had been stirred awake not by a sudden break-in, but by the sounds of bangs, crashes, and yells around him. Having slept within the confines of the elaborate iron lung that constituted his body as always, the detective was ready for action at a moment’s notice–all he needed to do was put on his hat and barge out the door.
Of course, by then the hallways had plenty of people in them, mostly unfamiliar motel customers headed for the nearest exit. Since they were all fighters in their own right, the Seekers clashing with Jack-5s throughout the premises would soon find their numbers bolstered by reinforcements. Angry at being woken up, many of the Banishing Flats’ resident grapplers lent their strength to the motel’s defense. With the destruction already perpetrated by the rampaging robots, all bets were off. Unwary Jack units would be subjected to powerbombs, DDTs, chokeslams, bulldogs, and fireman’s carries, the grapplers giving as good as they got.
For his part, Band tried to convince folks to evacuate instead. As fellow Seekers communicated over the team linkpearls, he headed for the nearest fire exit and stood guard there, beckoning others his way by playing his bagpipes. Only once did step forward to confront a Jack-5 to give others a chance to slip out through the door, using the armor given by his bagpipes to weather a blow before he pummeled the thing to pieces with Super Sonic Jazz. He couldn’t shake the feeling, though, that there must be more to this raid than met the eye, and it wasn’t long before his intuition proved to be correct.
Once the first bomb went off in the lobby, the lodgers became less eager to fight and more eager to flee. Band joined the hurried exodus as one explosion rocked Banishing flats after another. Bit by bit his fellow Seekers escaped the pandemonium as well, their heroic efforts gradually rendered more risk than reward as guests escaped and the building burned, increasingly unstable. In the wake of the disaster they grouped up across the street, crowding with bystanders to the sidelines as the fire department rolled in.Before long, every Seeker who’d elected to stay in Banishing Flats was accounted for.
Everyone except Ms Fortune. And as the Seekers scattered to find somewhere else to sleep, and night slowly turned to morning, they found neither hide nor hair of the resident catgirl.
While Band lacked the knowledge provided by Yoshimitsu that connected the Jacks to Kazuya, he could think of one good reason why a third party with ample military resources might decide to raid Banishing Flats that night, and the cat burglar in particular. Had Kazuya’s henchmen successfully eliminated their target? Or had Ms Fortune scarpered, leaving her comrades to their deaths? Band relished neither possibility. A good detective, never ruled out other possibilities, though. If Esaka really did house the Forbidden Kingdom’s guardian, Moebius had a vested interest in the place, and could very well have eyes and ears anywhere, not to mention resources to spare when it came to trying to exterminate their foes. The person or people responsible for tipping the Seekers’ enemies off could have been anyone that any of them interacted with throughout the day, from Investigator Azuma to Madam Bo to Xilgrev. In enemy territory, anything was possible.
Band spent the night down in Low Tier, hiding out in the basement of the defunct dojo he claimed that morning, Metal Revolution. His giant brass body needed no special accommodations, after all, even if the dusty cellar was dark and uncomfortable. Once the day dawned, the detective marched up the stairs and into the morning light to greet the new day. It wouldn’t be long now until the new tournament circuit began. Today and tomorrow would be dedicated to pools, with the last rounds of qualifiers fought on Saturday and the prestigious Top 8 matches held on Sunday. Most Seekers probably wouldn’t fight more than a couple matches each day, but since two losses were all it would take to be eliminated, they’d need to make every last bout count. As such, they’d need to reconvene for a hearty breakfast, not to mention discuss the events of last night.
“Mornin’, y’all,” Band said into his linkpearl. The others might not be early risers like him, but nobody could afford to oversleep today. “What d’y’all say we meet back up for breakfast? I reckon we could all use some friendly faces today.” It went without saying that since Pao Pao was at the very edge of the Low Tier, it would probably be safer than up where the powers that be were concentrated. Then again, it might be safest just to not meet up at all, but if the enemy made the team too cautious to work together, they might just as well have already won. Provided that Captain Pit agreed, any Seekers inclined to meet could determine somewhere to eat.
Though never a careless man, Big Band was extra careful today. In addition to being in a new and unfamiliar city, the heroes had now survived an attempt on their lives, and potentially had targets on their backs. He moved along at a leisurely place, checking every corner and alley. Twenty minutes later, Big Band arrived at the agreed-upon destination: a Low Tier cafe called Quick Rise. Though somewhat small, old-fashioned, and dingy, it seemed to be a local favorite judging by the number of dedicated regulars, and it offered tasty baked goods along with its coffee. The detective parked himself at the biggest table with a big mug of black brew and waited to see who’d show up.
Despite the early hour, the cafe was already buzzing with anticipation for today's tournament. From what Band overheard, the brackets would apparently be revealed at 8 o’clock, one hour before the grand opening of the tournaments. All Four Kings would be present for a televised announcement, and then pools would begin. Though Band had never personally looked forward to the competition, it was hard to remain unaffected by the general excitement.
Spire 04 - Orca Space Complex
Lvl 9 Sandalphon (38/90) Level 6 Heismay (41/60)
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: 1332
Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 7/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/(None) | Companion: Ratshaker Rat
When Belial hit the first floor, the slam resounded through the facility’s main area, amplified by all the broad, hard surfaces. When the echo died down a moment later, the silence was equally deafening. Sandalphon, the Ace Cadet, Tenna, and Ganondorf all raced to the edge of the hypertube access platform and looked down over the railing, weapons in hand in case the huge, sword-wielding Naytiba wasn’t done yet. As intense as the Seekers’ fight with it had been, it hadn’t lasted very long, and though the others all bore fresh wounds, Sandalphon got the sneaking suspicion that this victory had been too easy. And yet, when they peered down, they found Belial’s body bloody, sparking, and still.
A heavy, mechanical clanking and clatter rang out from behind them. Sandalphon turned to see that one of the hypertube’s three clamps was in the process of unlocking itself, no doubt the work of one of the away teams. In fact, it was the second one to be remotely deactivated, since at some point during the fight the one at the very top had been opened too; she and her comrades had simply been too occupied by the rampaging monster to notice. Fortunately, they’d succeeded in their endeavor to protect the stagecoach and three remaining Reindrix, though whether or not three would be enough to carry them onward was a different story. Unfortunately, Sandalphon felt very confident in her estimation that they could not, especially with an odd number leading to an uneven distribution.
Just then, she spotted movement from the direction of the contaminated Operations Center up at the facility’s highest level. Sectonia, Mokou, and Blazermate were on their way back, none the worse for wear. Based on the timing, they’d been the first to accomplish their assigned task. At a glance she couldn’t tell if Edward or Geralt’s team was the odd one out, but she couldn’t imagine it’d take long for the final lock to open either way. If Sectonia’s trio made such quick work of her own task, maybe those ultra-dense signals were nothing to worry about after all. Then again, it was always hard to gauge enemy toughness with Blazermate around, since she tended to patch them up quickly afterward.
Thinking about that reminded Sandalphon of her own duty. Of the stagecoach defenders, she was the only one essentially unscathed in the wake of Belial’s outrage. She summoned her gunstaff, raised it up, and released a pulse of holy water to heal her comrades up with Angelic Wings. “There, that should do.” Only then, beset by one distraction after another, did it occur to Sandalphon to check Belial’s body again. Surely disintegration has set in by now. When she leaned over the railing to look, however, she found no trace of the Naytiba beyond its spattered blood and the dents on the floor. “I see,” she stated, deadpan. “I’m afraid we haven’t seen the last of that thing.” This was no mere hypothesis, either. Thanks to Galeem’s influence, Belial couldn’t just retreat. It would be back to finish what it started, sooner or later. Armed with a predator’s cunning, it would launch an even deadlier ambush next time–of that, Sandalphon was sure.
Just before Geralt, Heismay, Roxas and Adam’s drone arrived a minute later, the third and final lock began to disengage. Once that massive clamp released its hold, the complicated radial hypertube doors slid open, all eight slices neatly receding into the tube housing. Air began to flow into the tube in great volumes, and light strips came on along the walls of the perfectly rounded tube, including boost pads represented by strips of four bright pink arrows apiece. Edward, Ramattra, and Even showed up afterward, having had the most ground to cover and the hardest puzzle to deal with, at which point Sandalphon succinctly brought them up to speed.
“We were attacked by an unknown Naytiba wielding dual greatswords,” she explained, pulling up her mental image of Belial on a screen for the others to see. “It possessed great power, speed, intelligence, and durability. We were not able to confirm the kill.” She nodded at the stagecoach, her expression grave. “As you can see, it succeeded in killing several Reindrix in an attempt to slow us down.” She then looked at Edward specifically. “I recommend returning the survivors to their Pal Spheres and replacing them with a team of fused creatures once we exit the hypertube. They should be easier to control and less of a liability, since they won’t be gleaming. The design I leave up to you, we should have sufficient DNA samples by now.”
With everyone caught up and the way open, the Seekers just needed to push the stagecoach into the hypertube, then enter it themselves. Sandalphon joined Adam inside the coach, while Heismay clung to the exterior, not wanting to be sucked away by the air currents just yet. Nearby, the ratshaker rat was already hollering, and its cage rattled as it blew in the wind.
The noise was such that Adam needed to raise his drone’s volume for everyone to hear it clearly. “The hypertube walls are generating a low-yield magnetic cushion,” he informed the team. “Like a bullet train. Metallic objects should be able to ride smoothly across it.” His drone turned toward Eve as she stepped toward the entrance. “Eve, want to show them how it’s done?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” she replied cheerfully. Reaching up to her ponytail, she removed her hairpin and transformed it into her monomolecular saber. After she dropped it at the edge and stepped on, a little push-off was all it took to go zooming off into the hypertube, riding her sword like a surfboard.
“See you on the other side!” Adam’s drone sped after her.
Heismay couldn’t help but laugh to himself. “And here I thought Will was the only one crazy enough to ride upon an enchanted blade,” he said with a shake of his head. “Nevertheless, I shall attempt flying, instead. These currents should be more than enough to glide upon.”
A moment later, the stagecoach reached the hypertube. Its metal wheels magnetized to the floor, and the whole thing shot forward as if fired from a canyon. With Edward only barely able to steer it, the coach rode up and down the walls as it rolled along; if he really wanted, he could almost certainly pull a loop-de-loop around the tube’s interior. Before he could get creative, Heismay spread his wings and took to the air, held aloft by the wind tunnel’s currents. His tired old heart raced with exhilaration as he zipped along, unable to suppress his giddiness. “Waaaaaaaaahahahahahaha!”
Before the Seekers could get too comfortable, though, the hypertube ride got a bit more interesting. Here and there lay bits of wreckage from the last shipments through the tube before it was deemed unsafe and sealed off for renovation, including a number of storage containers, pallets, and transport skiffs, all of which would be very injurious if slammed into at high speed. There were also a number of Skulling minor Naytibas skulking about for machines and bodies to infest, only too happy to grab hold of and latch onto intruders as they whooshed by. Worse still were the tickers, which could damage even the stagecoach with their self-destructive explosions, and the extremely durable Cymul drones attempting to combat them. Though durable enough to withstand Naytibas as they sliced them apart with their spinning cutters, the Cymuls were extremely hazardous to both riders and fliers alike, not least because their reflective coating could return projectiles to sender. If they meant to reach the Space Logistics Complex, everyone would need quick reflexes and to stay on their toes.
