Member
DancesWMonsters
Archmage MC
Dyelli Beybi
TruthHurts
FujiwaraPhoenix
Bingelly
XoXKieroBombXoX
darkred
Zoey Boey
StarlanceEsaka, the Tiered City
Setting: Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (231/150) Level 11 Big Band (136/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Terry’s @Terry Bogard Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1500 / 1171
Free from her mechanical taskmaster’s tyranny at last, Nadia stepped out onto the High Tier’s circular main street and pawsed at the edge of the sidewalk, her tail flicking back and forth as she watched colorful cars go by. Every so often, the feral couldn’t help but stop, take a second, and marvel at the cityscape that now surrounded her. Sure, she was no stranger to the urban jungle, having visited New Meridian’s more metropolitan areas plenty even if she usually stuck to the poorer districts, but compared to what she’d experienced before Esaka’s High Tier was a wholly different beast. On the surface it was unlike any city she’d ever seen except maybe the Nyakuza Metro, from its mixed Chinese and Japanese architectural style to its layout and even the characters on many of its signs, but it still felt kind of familiar. It might not be her definition of ‘normal’, but it still felt distinctively, comfortably ‘normal’. And now, with her matches for the day complete and her training session over with, the world was Nadia’s oyster.
Compared to combo trials, taking a brisk stroll was a breeze, so the catgirl set off on a casual walk around the tier. She set herself the goal of circumnavigating the ring-shaped city once, but really she just wanted to sightsee. Having a lot of money really did change one’s perspective when perusing boutiques, salons, and other storefronts; for once in Nadia’s life, these weren’t just the vainglorious excesses of the undeserving rich. Now she was undeservedly rich, and she could actually afford to get whatever she wanted. Given that it was after five o’clock now, she could also start thinking about dinner. There were bound to be all kinds of excellent options up here for the financially irresponsible.
Of course, it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Nadia wasn’t about to forget the target on her back she’d earned after stealing from Kazuya Mishima. Hopefully G-Corp’s stooges were busy dealing with the target put on their backs by Heihachi, though either way she’d be giving their headquarters a wide berth. Wait…come to think of it, hadn’t she heard somewhere that Heihachi’s last name was Mishima too? Given his age (which admittedly made his physique and hairstyle even more impressive) he might be Kazuya’s father. With how much bad blood there seemed to be between the two of them, Nadia figured there must be a juicy story there somewhere. Family sure seemed complicated. Good thing I don’t have any, she joked to herself.
After a good hour or so on her clockwise journey around the High Tier, popping into various establishments like the Hard Reads bookstore, the Flash Kicks zapateria, and the Input Buffer gym (where she clambered on the rock wall and misused gym equipment for a few minutes before getting chased out for not buying a membership), a strange sound got Nadia’s attention. It was a sort of rumbling whine, just loud enough to be audible to her long, furry ears, mostly notable for its origin point: the sky. It sounded familiar, too, but she couldn’t quite place it. When she looked out over the city buildings, toward the eastern horizon where tall mountains laden with pink cherry blossom trees stood before a vast, reedy marshland, her sharp eyes detected some sort of disturbance among the clouds. She couldn’t see anything, just some sort of indistinct blur, but the way the clouds parted suggested something moving at high speed. A moment later, three black dots like specks of ground pepper shot out of this blur and toward the ground, quickly disappearing behind the buildings that blocked Nadia’s view.
It took a little while longer, standing there and scratching her head, for Nadia to put two and two together. “Oh, duh!” She smacked herself, smiling ruefully. That high-speed, high-altitude blur, so indistinct against the background that she might have very well have imagined it, had to be the Avenger, hidden from view by its exterior camouflage. If that was the case, those dots had to have been hellpods. But just who were the Lost Numbers deploying? Nadia didn’t bother wracking her brain for answers, but decided to find out for herself.
Being on the east side of Esaka already, the feral began to descend. Rather than try to find a lift, she just sauntered to the edge of the tier, vaulted over the railing, and used her hardened claws to control her fall. She landed in a roll on the rounded, jade-green shingles of a Mid Tier building and stuck to the rooftops from there, steadily putting more and more distance between herself and the tiered city’s center. So far she’d mostly stuck to the northern fourth of Esaka, so these parts of the Middle and Low Tiers were new to her, but that just made them a fun test for her agility. If not worn out by all the training, she would have been even more adventurous, but for all her peppiness the catgirl’s energy wasn’t infinite.
It wasn’t long before she reached the city’s eastern gate. Compared to how busy even the dingiest, poorest parts of Esaka were, the winding road that led out toward the mountains and marshland beyond looked remarkably empty. Precious few travelers, trucks, or horse-drawn carriages made their way along it, going either way. After giving the Aurumaton gatekeepers a wary glance, Nadia stepped out onto the dirt road and climbed up a nearby tree for a better view, her claws sliding into the bark with ease.
Sitting there beneath the canopy, listening to the wind and the songbirds, was pleasant, but Nadia wasn’t exactly the meditative type. Luckily, just as she was starting to get bored she spotted a pair of travelers headed toward Esaka from the direction of the pink-crowned mountains. The youngsters, somewhere in their mid teens, were virtually identical, with fair skin and long blonde hair tied on low ponytails beneath black hats with white bands. Their attire was similarly formal, with brown suits that sported white fur collars, black collared shirts, and white ties. They said not a word, but approached the city with a determined spring in their step, as if eager to make mischief. It was a stride Nadia knew well. As they drew close, Nadia dropped down from her tree, and when her footfalls drew their attention a single glance told the feral all she needed to know. Their eyes weren’t red, but pink, with bright blue rings around their pupils. A smile crept onto their faces when they saw her, their mannerisms oddly synchronized. “Well, look who the cat dragged in,” they chorused.
“Hiya,” Nadia replied, waving as she approached. Strange…she counted only two visitors, but she was pretty sure she saw three hellpods fall from the sky. Had she been mistaken? Eh, no matter. “I know you guys, you’re Lost Numbers. Well, not purr-sonally. I don’t know your names, but I saw ya on the Avenger. Though you weren’t dressed like that. Lookin’ snazzy!”
“Thanks!” One of the twins was ever so slightly taller than the other, and he doffed his hat. “We’re Bartholomew…”
“And Marguerite Bogard!” the girl finished with a playful bow before the two spoke at the same time again. “At your service!”
If these kids were going to be a two-person act the whole time, Nadia realized, they were going to be a lot to deal with. “The name’s Ms. Fortune,” she told them. “And welcome to Esaka, where the tournaments are so emotional, the fights are guaranteed to have you in tiers!”
“Ooh, good one!” Marg replied, snapping a finger into a finger gun.
Nadia beamed, pleased to have her talents recognized and enabled. As she turned toward the gate and beckoned the twins to follow her, though, she gave them a scrutinizing look. “Bogard. Bogard. I’ve heard that name. Wait.” She snapped her fingers, her eyes widening. “You know anyone named Terry?”
“Mhm!” The two replied together before Bart continued alone. “Terry’s our grandaddy on our dad’s side.”
Marg nodded, crossing her arms as she walked perfectly in sync with her brother. “Never knew him ‘cause he expired way before we were born, but our dad tried to teach us his moves.”
“A little bird told us that you guys ran in Terry down here,” Bart explained before his face and tone turned more serious. “Of course…it isn’t the same Terry. By now, he’s been reborn in the cycle. Probably a half-dozen times.”
“Still, we wanted to come meet him if we could. Think of it as getting back to our roots,” Marg added.
Nadia reached into her hood and rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. “Well, uh, right now I’m kind of a solo act. Lost my linkpearl and everythin’. But hey, why don’t I give ya the grand tour-nament? I’m basically an Esaka pro by now! We can keep an eye out for ‘em as we go.”
The twins agreed, and beneath the Aurumatons’ watchful gaze the three mischief-makers stepped into the city to see what they could find.
Before even rising from where he slumped down onto the grass of the little isle, Balrog slammed his gloved fist into the ground. He lifted his head and met Big Band’s even stare with a glare of pure venom, practically foaming at the mouth. “You’re dead, big man,” he snarled. “Hear me? Dead!”
The detective kept himself calm and collected. His new upgrades didn’t make him invincible by any means, but he felt like he had his opponent figured out, not to mention outgunned. His rich voice, filtered through his newly-repaired respirator, was as hard as steel as he replied with the honest truth. “Killin’ me’s gonna take a lot more than what you’ve shown so far.”
Balrog smashed his gloved fists together. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”
ROUND TWO: FIGHT!
For the second time, the two men met with explosive force, raw muscle against solid steel. Eyes alight with anger, Balrog pushed Band back with pure aggression, his onslaught of punches just unpredictable enough that Band couldn’t flip the script with a well-timed parry, lest he open himself up at a crucial moment. Worse still, the boxer’s fury wasn’t as exploitable as the detective might hope. Countless hours of tireless training over the years had turned solid fundamentals into incontrovertible muscle memory, so Balrog didn’t leave himself unsafe very often.
Still, Balrog’s repertoire of punches was ultimately limited, and when Band astutely recognized an opportunity he powered through his foe’s punch with his reversal. “Beat…Extend!” After rattling Balrog half-conscious with the jangles of his giant tambourine, Band launched a combo optimized for maximum corner carry to bring himself back from the brink his rival’s offense pushed him to. He jumped up, jingled Balrog with Jelly roll, struck with the stab-and-spin of Sweet Clarinet, then buoyed him back up with a Bass Blast just before he hit the ground. “Shove off!” A dash got him in range to hop up and continue with Tenor Blast, another Sweet Clarinet that carried them both to the ground, and then a solid ringing from his musical triangle. A couple love taps from his tiny pedal paved the way for a double trombone slide, Kick Stand, and a final slide forward. “Take the A Train!” He scooped Balrog up into his arm, jackhammered him, and spat him out at the island’s other edge.
Rather than follow up, Band risked playing his Bagpipe Blues. Fortunately, his guess was right on the money: Balrog needed to hold back to build strength for his strong, advancing moves, and couldn’t reach him in time to shut him down. That meant that when the two clashed again, the detective’s instrumental normals boasted armor, and Balrog quickly learned that he could no longer win any trades. “What the!?” Gritting his teeth, the boxer hunkered down on defense, stuck blocking as Band tested his mettle with a grueling string of attacks. The seconds slid by as Balrog expertly blocked, constantly shifting his stance between high and low guard as Band changed up his moves. Somewhat impressed, Band played along, determined to make the man crack. Finally, after almost thirty seconds straight of ducking, weaving, and blocking, Balrog whirled forward with a massive turn punch. “FIVE!”
WHAM! Band flew backward as Balrog’s fist impacted his chest hard enough to leave a dent. He hit the ground with a crash and tore up the grass as he slid, scuffing his trench coat.
“Huh?” The detective grunted breathlessly. He looked up to see Balrog coming, and got up as fast as he could. By then the boxer had jumped forward, and when Band tried to block his foe’s jump-in, Balrog replied with his Ultra Combo.
An ugly grin spread across Balrog’s face as he reached up and grabbed Band’s head with his boxing gloves. “Bastard!” He hopped up to deliver a withering headbutt to Band’s nose, breaking it, then landed and stomped on the detective’s foot in order to deliver a jaw-cracking hook. Band crumpled to the sound of his adversary’s laughter as he gave a shameless shrug. “Gahahahaha!”
Groaning, Band slowly planted his Lokjaws in the dirt and pushed himself up. “Fightin’ dirty, huh…”
Balrog leered at him. “Still standin’ huh?” He balled his fists and stepped forward. “I’ll fix that!”
“HORN CRUSH!” Rapidly reconfiguring, Band rocketed forward, sound energy blasting from his giant French Horn. Balrog had anticipated something like this, but even as he blocked Band’s Blockbuster, the sheer force pushed him back. A final push sent him skidding backward, and when he went to punish, though, he realized his foe wasn’t finished. Thanks to Bagpipe Blues, the detective slid forward, an all-out punch barrage. Balrog curled his lip, planted his feet, and returned fire with a barrage of his own.
“Come on!” he roared over the cacophony. “GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“TUBATUBATUBATUBATUBATUBATUBA!”
It felt like minutes, even if it lasted only seconds. Band’s mighty Lokjaws beat Balrog’s fists back bit by bit, until finally the boxer’s arms fell limply to his sides. He gasped, breathless, as Band reeled back for one final punch. “...TUBA!” Spittle flew and the last of Balrog’s breath left his lungs as the Lokjaw slammed into his chest. The next second, the spring activated and sent him flying back, off the island, across the water, and into the boat moored nearby. He slammed into it hard enough to send boards flying, and after a single beat, the Lokjaw’s payload exploded to finish the fight in a majestic eruption that left Balrog floating unconscious among the wreckage.
Breathing heavily, Band retracted the Lokjaw back onto his arm with a clang. He spat out blood that had trickled into his mouth from his nose, then lowered his metal fist. “Give Combo my regards.”
BIG BAND WINS!
This time, cheers erupted from the spectators who’d witnessed the spectacular finish. Rather than congratulate Band, Ileum elongated her intestinal limbs to stretch toward the island from the nearby walkway, then fished medical supplies from her bag as she jogged to Band’s side. As she wiped away the blood, then pinched his nose with a white cloth. Band knew he should be feeling triumphant, but instead he mostly felt worried. That climactic finish would have suited the grand finals, but even after everything, it was still just his first day of Pools.
“Well fought, Ben. That was pretty amazing. Are you okay?” Ileum’s voice stirred him from his thoughts. Her mask betrayed no emotion, but he thought he could hear the tired, worried smile in her voice, and that drove away his fears.
He smiled back at her, then deployed his mechanical arms. With his left he swept her up in a one-armed hug, which she didn’t resist despite her surprise, and with his right he raised a Lokjaw in victory. “Better than okay.”
It took longer than Darun expected for someone to exit the Opera House, but eventually Kim did. The detective reconvened with the UN agent to report that while Chloe was nowhere to be found in the premises, a couple clues he’d picked up from searching her trailer suggested both a more nuanced relationship with G-Corp than one might think and a fondness for a certain establishment called Infinite-tea. Darun’s bushy eyebrows shut up when he heard the name. “I saw that place! It’s just down the street. With luck, she might be there.” The wrestler waved for Kim to follow him. “Let’s go!”
The men were beaten to the punch, however, by a certain third-party. Grima was already in Infinite-tea, and among all the blonde women in the shop, the astute swordswoman had managed to pick out her target on her first try. Chloe herself happened to be so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Grima until she seated herself at the incognito pop star’s table, which made Chloe jump in alarm. Only able to stammer in response to Grima’s rhetorical question, she shrank back in her chair as the charismatic vessel’s naturally burgeoning personal bubble beat back her own.
When she finally found her voice, Chloe didn’t exactly answer the question she was asked. “What do you want?” She froze, however, when told not to make a scene. In fact, she scarcely seemed to breath as Grima kept talking. It took a few moment after Grima finished for Chloe to swallow and start talking. “Oh, God. I knew someone would come for me. After Heihachi put out a hit on G-Corp. But you’ve gotta listen, I’m like, not even really with them! I’m just paid to do PR, I swear. I’m no use to you, or anyone! Just some second-rate lolcow everyone loves to hate. This morning they told me to stand by in case they need me to come fight on their side, and I’ve been beside myself worrying all day long. If I don’t answer their calls, who knows what they’ll do? I didn’t sign up for this!” Tears were already streaming down her face; maybe she really was as stressed and close to the breaking point as she said.
At that moment, a cold wind seemed to filter through the store. A shadow fell across the table, and Chloe fell silent with a squeak. When Grima looked up, she found an imposing Russian man with a scarred face, slicked-back black hair, and a long fur-lined coat. With an icy frown, he put a hand on Grima’s shoulder, his severe gaze lingering on Chloe for a moment before he looked down at Grima. Completely silent, he jabbed a thumb toward Infinite-tea’s front door, telling her to get lost.
Forbidden Kingdom - Verdant Canyons
Bowser Jr and Rika’s @DracoLunaris Therion’s @Yankee Yayama’s @Chevaleresse
To the east of the north-south dirty highway that divided the bamboo forest between Esaka and Shinjuku, the hilly forest turned downright mountainous, becoming a multi-tiered labyrinth of pale stone, bamboo thickets, and swampy water. Its lowest level took the form of narrow, serpentine canyon riverways plagued by mosquitoes, their shores thick with reeds. Here and there they combined into rocky pools with lily pads beloved by frogs of all shapes and sizes, so many that even if explorers spent hours collecting different frogs, they’d only ever obtain a fraction of them. Further up were grassy islands of varying sizes linked by natural arches and treacherous cliffside paths, seldom more than a couple dozen feet above the water. Higher still were a variety of larger plateaus, and above those loomed rocky spires like massive tree trunks or giant spikes. Copses of bamboo could be found everywhere, but other kinds of vegetation were plentiful, creating a lush -if dangerous- environment.
This terrain would be downright impossible for most wheeled vehicles to navigate, but few wheeled vehicles had Kuebiko’s agility. With its incredible suspension system the Metal Attacker could leap between the different plateaus to get around with impressive agility, although the Seekers were probably still better off leaving all their conveyances behind as they explored this unique area, lest one of them misalign a jump and leave a vehicle unsalvageably wedged in a crevice.
As one might expect of such an interesting locale, there were all kinds of points of interest. Most obvious was the largest plateau in the region, home to a miniature bamboo forest of its own. An old thatched cabin could be found there, where a solitary, spiky-haired youth could be found training with his staff. He’d made use of the flowering orchard by the hut to cobble together a device that could launch fruit into the air for him to strike while standing atop a balance beam, but despite the young man’s optimism, his ambition had clearly outstripped his ability and he seemed to be in need of some help.
Atop one of the taller, more inaccessible plateaus in the area bloomed a dense dappled glade, dominated by a huge weeping willow with dreamlike blue fronds. Beneath those ethereal curtains floated a bluish spirit, Meidra, who would prove so intensely interested in the personality of whatever ‘sweet beast’ discovered her that she’d happily pose a variety of nuanced questions to her visitors if given half the chance, with the promise of reward to anyone whose measure she’d be allowed to take.
Elsewhere in the canyons, a beautiful crane stood in a yellowish meadow amidst the bamboo, intensely focused on a trio of magical cauldrons set up in the clearing before her. Judging by the cart of fresh produce and other foodstuffs nearby, those strange apparati seemed to be cookpots, and the crane was attempting to precisely control their temperature through the use of several elemental slimes: fire slimes to increase the heat, and puddle slimes to lower it. Unfortunately, thanks to the slimes’ unintelligence, this method was a bit unwieldy. If approached and asked what she was doing, the no-nonsense crane (who could speak and referred to herself as Cloud Retainer) would matter-of-factly explain her latest attempt to automate culinary perfection with her Supreme Cuisine Machines, and perhaps begrudgingly ask for her visitors’ help.
The Seekers weren’t the only ones traversing the area, though. In the long evening shadows cast by the stone pillars, a diminutive creature with candle, pillow, and nightcap wandered listlessly, as if looking for something he couldn’t find. Even smaller critters, little more than black spheres with long ears and three-toed feet, might get the Seekers’ attention and lead the way to the little wanderer’s side.
The Midnight Walk - Grand Lift of Rold
Setting: Snowy Thursday Night
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (34/70)
Edward’s @DracoLunaris Blazermate & Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Ace Cadet’s @Yankee Roxas & Ganondorf’s @Double Ramattra and Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX Mokou’s @Goggy
Word Count: 818
Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/Icebox | Companion: Ratshaker Rat
Once Ramattra recovered the Rold Medallion from the depths of the misty dungeon and returned it to the Seekers waiting in the main structure, simply placing it atop the pedestal was enough to get the archaic mechanism moving. Somehow, despite weighing untold tons and involving no modern technology that anyone could see, the entire stone lift began to grind upward. Along with it went Geralt, Layton, Ramattra, Edward, his summons, and the whole stagecoach, slowly but steadily bound for the bleak clifftop.
After she warped up to help the flight team and subsequently beat a hasty retreat, Sandalphon stood stock-still beside the stagecoach as the lift climbed upward. Completely focused, she fastidiously continued to monitor the harrowing battle against the cultists at Oblivion’s Ingress up top. With a wealth of dangerous abilities at its disposal, the Exemplar seemed to pose a serious threat, and the situation stressed her out more than she would have liked. She’d only born witness to its distorted form, in all its grotesque glory, for a few moments, but that was long enough for its presence to feel unnervingly reminiscent of the final battle in the Qliphoth.
Regardless, the Exemplar’s arrival hadn’t given Sectonia, Blazermate, Mokou, and Heismay enough time to recover from their run-in with the first wave of cultists (which had been unpleasant but manageable) so the wounds and disquiet compounded to push the flight team to the edge both physically and mentally. Could Mokou really afford to burn through so many lives without consequence? Realistically, they should have called for backup earlier. Even if everyone managed to pull through, the encounter proved that the Seekers could still run into very dangerous enemies any time, any place. Unity was their greatest asset, so even if it bored individuals like Sectonia or Mokou, the team should probably not split up as much going forward. By reflecting on what she could have done better during the battle, Sandalphon came up with a novel application of her new abilities from the alchemist Markiona, and resolved to try it out during the next fight.
When the lift eventually reached the clifftop, Sandalphon saw that the tenebrous cathedral was no more. Oblivion’s Ingress had vanished in its entirety, collapsing under its own weight like a dying star. It left behind a footprint of scorched earth, a stretch of blasted gray-black slag to which no falling snow would stick. A number of mangled corpses could be found strewn around the area, perhaps remnants of whatever eldritch ritual had opened that door to darkness here to begin with. A few strange artifacts lay amidst the rubble, including a chipped obsidian pyramid, an iron ring to which shadows clung, a tangible dark impulse that seemed linked to the ring somehow, and a cursed sword with an obnoxious staring eye. Could it be the legendary sword hinted about by Vulgrim?
Now that they’d made the climb, one way or another, there wasn’t much left for the Seekers to do but press on, albeit slower than before. On one hand, the last hour or so had been grueling. Whether they’d been climbing, fighting, or exploring the dungeon beneath the lift, most of them had made up for the long hours they’d spent on festival preparations. On the other hand, they were now traveling uphill, the grade of the slope steep enough that the shieldrix were having a much harder time pulling the stagecoach along. With a number of team members now licking their wounds as well, everyone’s thoughts gradually turned toward the question of where they’d be making camp for the night.
Soon, the heroes found their answer. As the stagecoach steadily climbed higher, the Midnight Walk eventually led them into a basin amidst the snowy ridges. The path curved around a small frozen lake, and on an island in the lake’s middle stood a gigantic snowman complete with green googly eyes, a carrow nose the size of a tree trunk, and a stovepipe hat. The real find, though, Heismay spotted thanks to the glow of the stagecoach’s torches. A cave mouth opened into one of the basin’s rocky walls, just large enough that the wagon could turn and rattle inside.
Although rather forbidding thanks to all the icy stalactites, illuminated by the glow of pale ghostfire braziers, the cave was spacious, without any signs of life or other exits. That meant the Seekers could inhabit and fortify it, shielded from the elements and surprise attacks. It was no winter lodge, but given the harsh terrain this close to Moon Mountain and the conditions outside, it was about as good as anyone could ask for. “Let’s settle down here for the night,” Sandalphon decided. If everyone did their part setting up, the camp would be ready in ten minutes, and aside from the designated watchmen the Seekers could retire for the night.
