Lugubrious

Graveyard Orbit

Sci-fi western sounds like a lot of fun. Could potentially apply as a robotic drifter of some sort.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (237/150) Level 11 Big Band (147/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 743 / 684

For a moment Band merely stood at the corner where he stopped, watching people go by as he awaited a response from the Seekers on his earpiece. Even on a drizzly, overcast day like today, there were still tons of people -and yokai- out and about. Either the Pools really were that important around here, or rain was simply such a common occurrence that Esaka’s citizens didn’t pay much mind to it. The detective’s idle gaze landed on a strange, furtive spirit with a froglike appearance, but the shell of a turtle. Atop its skull appeared to be a basin full of water, which the yokai was delighted to refill with the rainwater dripping down from above. He watched the kappa skulk around the threshold of a shop, wondering if it would attempt to steal something, only for the departure of a burly Italian to scare it away.

It wasn’t long before Band’s allies called in, starting with Roland. The Fixer suggested a meetup spot on the Low Tier, mentioning rice and noodles. Those foods weren’t necessarily what Band thought of as breakfast, but even counting out the whole ‘tournament society’ thing, the culture of the Tiered City was just unlike he’d ever seen before. Better to just go with the flow. Although, for those who’d stayed in the High Tier, it would be a long trip down. When Pit chimed in, mentioning that he had ‘medium news’ for everyone but would be too busy to join them for now, Band felt obliged to say something. “Sounds like we don’t got anythin’ earth-shatterin’ to share. So let’s keep this pow-wow nice and informal. Attendance is not mandatory.” Band would go, though, as long as Roland’s destination wasn’t too far. The northern part of the Low Tier might not be that far from the southern part as the crow flies, but traipsing halfway around the donut-shaped district would take a lot of time and energy. With more Pools matches imminent, not everyone had time or energy to spare.

Going off of the name Roland provided and the directions offered by helpful locals, Big Band made his way from the hiding place of Lab 8 to the designated eatery. It didn’t look like anything special, just a hole-in-the-wall really, but that suited the detective just fine. With G-Corp still on the loose, and who knew how many more enemies spread throughout the city, it was best for everyone to keep a low profile and move in smaller groups. Plus, hole-in-the-wall-type joints often had the best food. Well, some did, while most offered dirt-cheap crap. Finding a diamond in the rough was rare but extremely valuable, so hopefully this was one such place.

Band scarcely had time to make small talk with the others before his food arrived. He had ordered jianbing, a sort of crepe fashioned from broomcorn flour folded a couple times, eggs, ham, chopped scallion, and hoisin sauce. It made for a strange breakfast dish, as the detective expected, but with an open mind to new foods Band found himself liking it. It came with cifantuan, a kind of sticky rice pouch stuffed with fried dough and salted egg yolk, and to wash it down Band tried a sweetened soy milk, although he didn’t end up liking that beverage too much. Overall the meal was pretty good, but being essentially street food it was overpriced fare in a restaurant, so paying for it ate through a chunk of the little stipend given by the Bogard twins last night as thanks for having their backs. It looked like money would still be a concern for the detective going forward. Fortunately, despite appearances, it didn’t take much fuel to fill him up

Once everyone’s meal had begun, and they digested the news about Harry and Kim, Band paused between bites to clear his throat. “Ahem. So…y’all might not be aware, but I’ve been outta the loop with the Seekers for a couple weeks. Stuck in Edinburgh MagicaPolis, way up north. I wasn’t exactly idle up there. Helped take one Consul outta the equation in fact, and got us a li’l tidbit of information that Miss Sandalphon’s team’s gonna put to good use real soon. But I dunno what the rest of y’all got up to. Just heardja paid a visit to Midgar and the Underground. Got any good stories?”

---

While Band and a few others chatted over breakfast in a remote corner of the Low Tier, Nadia continued to pitter-patter around the puddly streets of the Middle Tier in search of the New Meridian Order’s only male member. It did strike her as a little funny that a himbo like Beowulf would be the only guy to join the otherwise all-female dojo, though it was true they weren’t exactly a huge organization to begin with. Most ladies would have probably preferred an all-gal group, but either due to her upbringing or attitude, Nadia actually liked hanging out with dudes. They were simple, easy to get along with. Plus, most were totally unprepared for casual friendliness from a pretty girl. Nadia didn’t mean to lead anyone on or anything, but paw-sitive attention sure felt nice.

Wandering through the drizzle for half an hour didn’t feel great, though, and the tantalizing smells that wafted out of the half-dozen diners she checked sure didn’t help. Of course, Nadia knew that she could stop and help herself to breakfast whenever, but she’d already had Throw Loops this morning and couldn’t afford to overeat, in a metaphorical sense at least. Plus, she was a woman on a mission! There was someone out there in need of saving (after a fashion) and Nadia Fortune would oblige.

Eventually, the thief struck gold. When she stuck her head into a diner called Churning Butter, she found a restaurant offering the richest, unhealthiest, most protein-rich and carbo-loaded breakfast food around, and there she discovered Beowulf. True to Annie’s prediction, he sat over a giant, half-finished plate of steak and eggs, accompanied by a stack of pancakes with so many toppings that Nadia couldn’t even see the flapjacks. Of course, the gregarious goober wasn't totally focused on his meal, because he couldn’t resist striking up a conversation with the complete strangers at the table next to him. Fortunately, the blond American in a Hawaiian shirt and ripped jeans seemed pretty outgoing, and the Japanese girl Bob had met for breakfast was warming up to their natural camaraderie. Still, even the rather tactless Nadia could see that it would probably be best to leave Bob and Tsugumi to their date, so she marched in and put a hand on Beowulf’s shoulder. “Beo, buddy!”

The wrestler looked up and grew a toothy smile. “Fortune, hey! G’mornin’!” He waved for her to sit down. “Wanna bite to eat? Got plenty left! I was just tellin’ my friends here…”

“Actually, I’ve got somethin’ big to tell ya.” She flashed a sympathetic smile at the others as she stepped in between the two tables, blocking them off. “An im-purr-tant purr-oposition, if you’re willin’ to hear meowt,” Nadia told him. “Straight from the Girl of the Stars.”

Just as Nadia thought, Annie’s epithet was enough to make Beowulf get serious. “Oh yeah? Alright, alright. Uh, can it wait a couple minutes?” He glanced down at his food anxiously, clearly not wanting his hard-earned donations from yesterday to go to waste.

“You got five minutes!” Nadia declared, holding up five clawed fingers for emphasis. “Meet me up on the roof. And get your hairy butt in gear, cause I’m not kitten around!”

Beowulf grinned. “You got it!” Nadia turned to go before she could see the wrestler dig into the remains of his meal with gusto, tearing the pancakes and prime rib apart like a hungry wolf. Until he met with her up top, she’d try to remember what she’d seen of his fighting style yesterday. If he was half the wrestler he thought he was, Beowulf probably had a couple kinds of command grab under his belt, so she wouldn’t be sitting around blocking. Oh, woe is me!

After climbing up onto the roof, Nadia began to stretch. This bout ought to be a nice warm-up for her Pools matches today. Hopefully Churning Butter had a nice, strong roof, since she didn’t want to crash through any more ceilings this week.

The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (5/100) Level 7 Heismay (45/70)
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: 1075 / 1261

Despite the varying degrees of soreness that now accompanied her every movement thanks to her rapid-onset Petrification Disease, Sandalphon soon resolved to not merely hide out at the bottom floor of the Grand Archives and await rescue. There was no telling how many or what sorts of enemies infested this place, and she reasoned that if she kept moving, she could hopefully keep one step ahead of any forces that might detect and seek to converge on her. Furthermore, the immense doors on this bottom floor that she guessed formed the archives’ main entrance were not only crusted over with white candlewax, but sealed by portcullis. She would need to find an alternate exit, or at least a way to raise the metal bars. Even if she didn’t find a way out of this place, being closer to an exit would be better if anyone happened to come here.

Of course, maneuvering through the Grand Archives came with its own set of challenges. Those wax-headed mages weren’t leaving this area like Sandalphon hoped they would. With stealth impossible in her current state, it was time for a more direct approach.

Taking careful aim, Sandalphon held her breath, then fired. The purple magic ray emanated from her hexagun took the head off an archive scholar in a splatter of wax. Its headless body slumped to the floor. Unlike most sniper rifles, the archangel’s magic gun gave no ear-rattling report, making only a whimsical whoosh when it fired. She took advantage of the other scholars’ confusion to mow them down, one headshot at a time. The third target triggered the hexagun’s special effect and got polymorphed into a chicken, but rather than waste a second to finish the bewildered bird off, Sandalphon sniped the fourth and final scholar. Now she had the whole first floor to herself.

Fiery lights in her peripheral vision warned her that the staircase to the second floor was another matter, though. She looked over just in time to see three more scholars with their candlesticks raised in the air before their fireballs accelerated toward her. Teeth clenched against the pain, Sandalphon hurriedly shrank back behind her bookcase, allowing the flame to splatter against its melted wax coating. Unable to detect life signs from these scholars, her scans had left her in the dark about this new patrol.

She peered out from cover and, to her surprise, saw something strange: a purplish gray cat with wax on her head, darting up the stairs. The scholars seemed to notice her, but rather than try to stop her at all they continued to sling fireballs at Sandalphon. Narrowing her good eye as its pupil became an inverted triangle, the archangel took cover for a moment, then cast her off hand forward the moment she showed herself. A Cerulean Mirage appeared on a stair among the scholars, and when Sandalphon shot it the next moment, the resulting diamond-shaped nitroblast scattered the three undead in a dozen directions.

Sandalphon examined the area, more carefully this time, but there appeared to be no more enemies. Nor any sign of that cat, for that matter. Slowly, gingerly, Sandalphon lowered her weapon and began to approach the stairs to the second later. On the way, her eye settled on the pool of wax, and her pupil became a loading ring. It was an uncharacteristically ridiculous idea, but maybe it would work. Carefully, the archangel stooped over the pool of wax. As she bent down, her halo continued to float above her as its light shone on the liquid wax, its orientation unchanged. Sandalphon took a deep breath, then inserted her head. It was warm, but not scalding. A quick wipe of her nose and good eye after removing her head left her vision and windpipe unobstructed, even as the wax hardened into a shell around her head. More had spattered her shoulders and chest, but she didn’t bother cleaning it off before she began to tackle the challenge of the stairs.

At the top, Sandalphon quickly found herself faced with another roving group of archive scholars, four strong, perhaps drawn by the explosion. She could feel their gaze on her, even if she couldn’t see any eyes within their waxen skulls. Yet, as she hastened to take aim with her hexagun, none attempted to attack. They continued on her way, content to walk past her. Sandalphon lowered, then dismissed her gun as she realized her gambit had worked, all thanks to that mysterious cat. Still, these threats needed to be neutralized. Shimmering wires spooled from her fingertips as she stepped forward, carefully brushing past the scholars as she moved through their group. A few strides later she stopped, raised her hands, and coldly tightened the wires.

Two of the scholars fell apart immediately and without ceremony, sliced into pieces. Sandalphon’s razor wire caught in the body of the third, however, and after the fourth beheld his stricken companion, he turned toward Sandalphon with his candlestick alike. Before it could immolate her, however, the archangel flicked her wrist and pulled. The scholar’s candles split apart, the slices scattered around, followed by his forearm and finally its head. As it slumped down, Sandalphon summoned her gunstaff to blast a hole through the stricken one and put it out of its misery. She watched its dagger clatter to the floor, paused to pick it up, and then moved on.

Another scan revealed a small life sign climbing higher up through the archives, probably the cat that helped her out. She could also detect something else, something distant but strong. When Sandalphon peered up at the highest level, she could see a large, cloaked figure with an enormous hat staring down at her, a crystal orb between its wizened hands. That looked like some sort of ringleader, much more perceptive than the wax-headed underlings. It raised its orb as blue magic danced around it, and Sandalphon barely ducked into a side room before a homing crystal arrow smashed into the doorway. This would be more difficult than she expected, but if this duel was to be a shootout between snipers, Sandalphon was confident in her skills, given enough time. With unknowns lurking around every corner, though, time was a luxury the archangel didn’t have.

---

Moments before Heismay would have reached up to try one of the worryingly heavy-looking doors for himself, the huge oaken slab began to swivel inward at a speed that testified the brute strength of the pusher. Suddenly alarmed, Heismay hopped backward and clamped his three-clawed hand around the hilt of his reinforced longsaber. Only the thought that more reasonably friendly people like the alchemist might be around prevented him from drawing his blade completely. When the door swung open, however, the familiar sight of thick coat and scarlet hair dispelled his eugief’s tension.

“Good hunter!” Heismay replied, releasing his grip on his sword. “You’re a welcome sight in this unfamiliar place.” As Ace stepped into the laboratory, Heismay glanced behind him to see if he came with company, but he saw nothing beyond Ace’s fuzzy new companion. He didn’t get much of a look at the room Ace came from either, other than a brief glimpse of stone brick and wooden furniture in firelight. “Separated from the others as well, I suppose? Twould seem we fell afoul of some magical trap.” As the hunter stopped at Heismay’s side to scope out the specimen shelves and work tables of the alchemical lab, the doors behind him swung shut with a heavy, groaning creak, falling right back into its original place.

Though naturally the noise distracted him for a brief moment, Heismay turned his attention back to Ace. “I’ve only seen this room so far. That man is friendly, albeit cursed with a hex that inhibits his power of speech. The purpose of his work, and this’alchemy lab’, is somewhat beyond me, and I’ve not the inclination to meddle.” The hermit pursed his lips. “He did, however, inform me that this building is ‘inconsistent’ and that rooms tend to shift around. No clues as to how we might quit the place, though. Tis quite the conundrum.”

Shrugging, Heismay turned back toward the door Ace came through and began to shuffle over. “Still, tis a relief to have you here. Two is better than one. And three shall be better than two. Once we find the others, we can put our heads together.” He reached up and plied his strength against the door. “I should like to examine the room you came from, to assemble my mental map.”

When Heismay pushed open the doors, however, a fundamental aspect of the Seekers’ reality quickly broke down. On the other side was not the banal dormitory that the monster hunter left behind.

The Forgotten Commune

The doorway opened directly into some kind of large octagonal shaft, its walls damp, mossy stone brick. A makeshift bridge of roped-together wooden logs, shaped like a plus sign, spanned the gap to connect this double doorway to four similar ones. A sickly green light bled down from above, and when Heismay looked upward, he could see only a dark, cloudy sky tinged the same unwell color for unknown reasons. Looking down, meanwhile, revealed an entire shantytown constructed within the space, a handful of ramshackle wooden towers composed of a dozen or so stacked hovels connected by plank and rope bridges. The steady drip of water droplets, amplified by the natural echo within this place, made Heismay’s ears twitch. Unwholesome smells crept, unwelcome into his offended nostrils, and after a moment a tormented, inhuman screen made him jump.

Oblivious to the unnatural replacement of the dormitory, Heismay narrowed his eyes as he focused on the decrepit shantytown below him. “I’d wager that was not one of us,” he ventured, drawing his blade. “And no friend of ours, either.” He looked to Ace for his opinion, scrutinizing the hunter’s expression as he hesitated. “Nevertheless, perhaps we should investigate? Twould not do to miss any clues that might aid in our egress.”

The Cadet glanced back at Heismay after peering down at the new area himself.

"Let's do it. Best case we find a clue on how to get out of here, worse case we just clean up something that might endanger someone else," he said, and with a tight grin that might betray a bit of the confident front he was putting on Ace added, "and this place really needs some janitors."

“Indeed.” Evidently more worried about making the decision than any of the danger that might accompany his choice, Heismay took the lead and jumped down to a wooden platform attached to a side wall. Going there gave him and Ace the chance to drop down to the uppermost level of the shantytown himself. When he approached the first hut, though, he hesitated. The whole thing, maybe thanks to its proximity to the light from above, looked massively overgrown by plants and mold alike. When he tentative pushed open the cracked, sagging door, Heismay caught sight of a few pustulent vermin feeding on the rot. With nothing but wet, slimy refuge in sight, the eugief shook his head and backed away.

As he descended a wood bridge and approached a second hovel, though, Heismay’s ears poked up at the sound of miserable moaning. “The shadow…the shadow…the shadow…the noise, so painful…” When he tried the door, it swung open to reveal a meager abode, featuring only a few items of poorly-made furniture and a couple racks where shriveled vegetables grew in soil-filled jars. Toward the back, near where the hut met the wall, a long-eared woman with gray skin and brown rags slumped without even raising her head.

Heismay swallowed and turned so that his body hid his sword. “Pardon me. Are you well?”

The woman raised her colorless, sunken eyes. "No... We’re on an island, surrounded by the blackness. Never meant to venture to distant shores.” Shakily she inhaled, her voice weak and weepy. "The voices...whispers, really... I can’t make out what they’re saying. Just quiet enough not to understand them. Loud enough that I can’t ignore them." For the first time she seemed to focus on the Seekers. "You... You’re not like us. You’re not from here."

Nothing she said filled Heismay with confidence, least of all that last observation. He hoped that it wouldn’t lead to hostility. “No, we are not. But we want to help. And to leave this place. What do we do?”

Unblinking, the woman shook her head. “There’s a darkness...inside me...trying to get out. It’s too late for me.” She chuckled, truly crestfallen. “Too late..." A rattling sigh escaped her.

“A darkness?” Heismay stepped back, taking a closer look at the hut’s interior. “Are you possessed?”

His words didn’t seem to register with her. "The blackness...I can hear it,” she muttered to herself. "It won’t stop. It can’t stop."

After another moment, Heismay stepped back out onto the deck. When he looked down, he counted three more stories before he and Ace would reach the bottom of this shaft. He could see brownish-green water down there, no doubt fetid, with unmentionable debris afloat within. To his shock, he also spotted a pair of putrid monstrosities, their body deformed and bloated with unnatural cysts. They crawled about the shantytown aimlessly, and when one disappeared in a building, another soon appeared elsewhere. This would not be easy.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Information about the Winterhold College Labyrinth!

It contains 36 rooms. Any room can connect to any other room and they're not* consistent; if a door from a room closes, opening it again can lead to a different room. When you open a door, I will randomly roll what room you get.

There are a LOT of interconnected elements in the labyrinth and I'll probably think of more. You may find answers for one room's puzzle in another one, for instance (an item that can instantly defeat a miniboss, for instance). There are specific and unique interactions with certain rooms. Some rooms may have shortcuts to specific other rooms, and others you might only be able to pull if you have an item, but will always get pulled if you do have that item. Some rooms may have something different happen between different visits, or if it's visited again after it's been 'completed'. Some might get closed off permanently after certain events.

Each week, each character has 2 actions. You can either Open or Examine, two times (he labyrinth doors are enchanted to be heavy enough for everyone that it takes your full strength to open, thus sapping your stamina). So for instance, you can open a new room, get what room it is and a cursory reveal from me, and then fully examine it. Or you could open two rooms. Or if there's already an open door between two rooms, examine both. Just keep in mind that doors cannot be held open for long.

The labyrinth is full of NPCs. Geralt and Layton are also somewhere in the labyrinth. There's no set time frame for this location and we'll get out once people find and unlock the exit. Get exploring!

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Clear Thursday Evening -> Drizzly Friday Morning
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (236/150) Level 11 Big Band (146/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 2812 (+3)

As Big Band and Captain Falcon stepped up to give the Bigs the chance to pick on someone closer to their own size, the Bogard twins squirmed away as stylishly as they could. Putting on a brave face, they resumed their trek toward the exchange counter to cash out. The Bigs watched them go but made no effort to stop them, their focus instead turning toward the two who confronted them. Mr. Big stood with his arms crossed, staring down his nose at the smaller man as he sized Falcon up, while Ms. Big lowered her sunglasses with a dainty index finger to fix Band with a severe stare. Around them, casino activity continued as usual, with only a few onlookers aware of the tense standoff unfolding in their midst.

After a moment, Mr. Big cracked a wide smile. “Settle what? I don’t see any problem. How our customers wanna spend their money isn’t our concern, is it, Ms. Big?”

“Not at all, Mr. Big,” his counterpart replied. “Only, it would’ve broken our hearts to see a couple bright-eyed youngsters lose everything after getting too carried away.”

“Mm-hm.” Mr. Big nodded sagaciously. “Kids and casinos don’t really mix, do they, Ms. Big? I’m just glad they had a change of heart and got goin’ while the goin’s good.”

The lady raised her sunglasses and smiled. “I figure they hightailed it just before their luck ran out, Mr. Big. That’s the best kind of luck there is.”

Mr. Big slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’d keep an eye on ‘em if I were in your shoes, hm? Wouldn’t want ‘em runnin’ into any trouble, now would we, Ms. Big?”

“Of course not, Mr. Big!” Ms. Big winked at Falcon and Band, then gave a little wave with her fingers. “Enjoy your evening in our casino, fellas~”

The two drifted away, with no further action taken, so Band took the hint and made for the exit. He caught up with Bart and Marg just after the twins stepped out into the night air, their wallets fat with their winnings. They turned to face their new friends with big smiles on her faces. “Impressed?”

“By how much y’all won? Fo’ sho’,” Band began. “Course, it wouldn’t of meant much if you both got turned into paste by the Bigs back there.”

Bart shrugged. “I know it looked bad for a minute…”

“...But we would’ve made it work,” Marg finished. “We always do.”

Groaning, band shook his head. “That’s exactly the problem,” he told them. “Overconfidence. I know you got some serious tricks up your sleeves, but in this world, there’s always a bigger fish. And you know it. It’s why the Lost Numbers always runs from Moebius, ain’t it?”

“Alright, alright,” Marg held up her hands placatingly. “We’ll be more careful, okay?”

Bart nodded, his brow furrowed. “Every good gambler knows when to fold. We’re not stupid.”

At the perceived challenge, Band narrowed his eyes. For the second time the twins found themselves facing a large, annoyed man, and this one stood even taller than the last. After a moment, he gave a derisive noise. “Hmph See to it that you ain’t.” He glanced over at the chaos unfolding down a nearby street, then at the High Tier’s cityscape. “Better find somewhere safe to stay for tonight. I know a lab in the Low Tier that fits the bill.”

“Thanks, but we’ll find somewhere up here,” the twins replied together. After a few more words about when and where the twins would meet Falcon the next day, the remaining Seekers dispersed, headed to their habitations for the night.

Once Bowser Jr and Rika showed up to the street fair near the casino, drawn by all the hullabaloo and especially the colorful performers, Nadia’s peaceful and solitary reverie came to an end. The kids weren’t exactly the cleverest or most perceptive bananas in the bunch, but any stroke of bad luck could lead to the incognito feral’s discovery, so she knew it would be best if she made herself scarce. With that in mind, she did her best to off her crepes, loath to rush the act of savoring their nutty chocolate filling.

Sadly, she didn’t have much choice. Not long after the Koopa Kids arrived, dubious onlookers provoked the monstrous T.H.I.S. into showing its true colors. With a brief but horrific demonstration of its abilities, the demon clown signed its own death warrant as the citizens who’d been waiting for any excuse to exterminate it practically dogpiled the thing. And with no many punches being thrown and weapons being swung in close proximity, it was inevitable that utter pandemonium would follow. The whole street fair became a madhouse as fighters either fled the scene or got sucked up into the conflict. Wrought iron tables and chairs went flying, food stalls got banged up, and balloons went sailing sky-high. Even a mime got in on the action, brawling with an invisible opponent who apparently gave even better than it got. The whole thing amused Nadia for a few moments, but after the mime somehow anti-aired himself and went flying into a nearby table, the catgirl took her leave.

Trusting that the Seekers could look after themselves and the city’s aurumatons could sort out everything else, Nadia began her return trip to a certain part of Esaka’s Middle Tier. Annie (Girl of the Stars) had given Nadia no indication that she’d be welcome to crash on her apartment’s couch for another night, but the feral didn’t exactly have anywhere else she could go, so she was holding out hope that the harsh girl’s hidden soft side would shine through. After all, tomorrow was going to be a busy day. Less inner conflict and self-doubt, she hoped, but definitely tougher fights, not to mention that plan she’d put together. With a schedule like that, Nadia needed plenty of beauty sleep, and for that she needed somewhere where she’d be safe and comfortable. Sure, she could break her way in to any number of buildings, but being somewhere she shouldn’t wasn’t exactly restful.

Rather than rush, Nadia made her way to her destination at a leisurely pace, content to take in Esaka’s night life as she went. This was only her second night in this fascinatingly unique society, after all, and there were plenty of surprises left for her to find. Everywhere she looked, there were weird yokai, fun shops, and of course, street fights. The first night of Pools was no time to rest on one’s laurels, after all, so plenty of people were on edge. Those who didn’t put their energy into training had to blow of some steam some how. Maybe some were even trying to sabotage the tournament brackets by hunting down fighters they disliked, or ones who’d beaten them in bracket. Though she kept an eye on whatever brawls she found in her path, Nadia gave the fights a wide berth. Her only stop on the way ‘home’ was at a convenience store to buy a couple everyday items like a toothbrush and spare clothes. Her squatting in Annie’s abode would be easier to bear, after all, if she kept herself hygienic and didn’t use her host’s supplies.

Eventually, Nadia reached her new friend’s apartment. After a couple knocks, the tired-looking, one-eyed, mint-haired girl cracked open the door. She looked neither pleased nor surprised, but after Nadia gave an apologetic (and rather pleading) smile, she rolled her eyes and let the catgirl in. “Aw, you’re the best, Annie!” Nadia crooned, snatching the star up in a grateful hug.

“Don’t make me regret this even more!” Annie scowled, but Nadia noticed that her friend waited until the hug was done instead of trying to wriggle free.

The catgirl quickly brushed her teeth, changed out of her new outfit into a casual t-shirt and shorts, and tossed herself down on the couch. A pillow and blanket had already been laid out for her, which brought a big smile to Nadia’s face. She cupped her hands around her mouth and sang, “Good ni-ight!”

“Shut up!” She heard from Annie’s room. Snickering, the feral took a deep breath and closed her eyes. In no time at all, she was sound asleep.

---

Hours later, Nadia drifted out of sleep to the sound of pattering raindrops on the window. What a soothing, luxurious sound. With that kind of ambiance, she could snooze here all day. The feral yawned, stretched, and rolled over. Then her eyes snapped open. Where was here, again? She blinked a few times, then looked around the room. Floral patterned wallpaper, old-fashioned white furniture, an overstuffed loveseat with a skirt, lots of pastel greens and pinks. A stuffed rabbit with an eye in its mouth. Minus that last part, it looked like an old lady’s home.

Right, Annie. Now it was coming back to her. She sat up, looking around the little apartment to refamiliarize herself with it. Waking up here today felt a lot better than it had yesterday. Her burns hadn’t completely healed but it no longer hurt to lie down. She could appreciate how comfortable this place was, especially with that light rain outside. To her great chagrin, though, she couldn’t spend the rest of the morning dozing. According to the analog wall clock, it was seven thirty-two, slightly less than an hour and a half from the tournaments’ nine o’clock start time. Just enough time for her to grab a bite to eat and warm up before the action began. Hopefully she could find Robo-fortune at the NMO dojo and run a few of last night’s drills before the matches got started. If yesterday had been tough, today would be even tougher, and she needed every advantage she could get.

And if that included the spirits of a fallen Mortal Kombat competitor or two, well…finders keepers!

“Looks like you’re finally awake.” The familiar voice drew Nadia’s attention away from the light gray sky beyond the rain-washed window and toward the kitchen table, where Annie sat munching on Throw Loops cereal, already dressed in her typical getup.

Nadia made her way over, yawning as she stroked her own furry tail. “Mornin’, sunshine! I guess even the sky thought I could use more t-raining. How’s it goin’?”

The girl shrugged off her guest’s pun and cheerful attitude with a sour look. “Lost to some baldy named Axel Hawk. Honestly, couldn’t tell you how. Thought I had it in the bag. Doing fine one minute, on my back the second.” Her single eye swiveled toward the mirror, allowing her to thoughtfully stare off into the middle distance. “Could’ve been overconfidence. Or maybe…plot armor?”

Eyebrows raised, Nadia blinked at her quizzically. “No kitten?”

With a sigh, Annie looked back down at her cereal. “Eh. Claiming that the Heavenly Principles play favorites is what losers do. I’m not really sweating it. Either I’ll tear through Losers’ Bracket, or I won’t. No big deal.”

Now Nadia scrunched her eyebrows together, her questioning look a little too overdramatic to be sincere. “Aren’t you fightin’ to win?”

“That’d be nice, but getting hyper-focused on winning tends to be how people lose,” Annie replied. “My main goal is to become a better fighter. If I do that, winning will just happen.”

That sounded like decent advice to Nadia, but unfortunately neither she nor the other Seekers could afford to take it. “Well, losin’ ain’t an option for my crew,” she replied. “I know that sounds, uh, egotistical, but we’re not just fightin’ for fun or for glory. We’ve got lots of people we need to save, and winnin’ here is a big step in makin’ that happen.”

“Well, good luck then,” Annie said curtly as she got up to rinse out her bowl in the sink. “Glad that’s not on me.

It could be, Nadia thought. Annie wasn’t just a good fighter, but a good person, a good mentor. She would be an excellent ally in the fight for the bigger picture. Then again, the Seekers had a strong presence in the World Warrior tournament still. Putting more fingers in that pie would probably just mean more teamkills. Tekken, on the other hand…

“Hey, d’you know where Beowulf is? I thought of somethin’ I wanna ask him.”

“Uh, no.” Annie shrugged. She walked through the apartment to grab the rabbit Sagan and pull her sword off the rack by the door. Before leaving, she paused in the doorway for a moment and glanced back at Nadia. “Meathead like him’s bound to need some protein, though. I bet he’s somewhere chowing down on steak and eggs.” After a brief moment, she reached down and picked up a wrapped box up off the doorstep. “Is…this for you?”

According to the nametag, it was. The catgirl slashed it open with her claws to reveal a little trinket that resembled a creature in an ice cream cone. “...Huh. Neat.” There were no hints about who sent it to her, or why, or how they knew to find her here, but it seemed fun. She made a note to attach it to her blade case later.

The door slammed, and Nadia was left to think as she finished her cereal. Well, she didn’t know any place that served steak and eggs, but there was nothing to stop her from going to look for one. Nothing except the clock, of course. Seventy-five minutes to go. Once she had her fill of Throw Loops, Nadia got dressed, cracked open the window, and hopped out into the morning drizzle. “Esaka, here I come!”

As the catgirl began her search of the Middle Tier, Big Band was sipping coffee beneath the Low Tier. He’d consumed half a cup already, draining his mug at a leisurely pace as he watched Lab 8’s youngsters like Hive and Leduc hone their abilities in the practice range, and he still couldn’t tell if he liked it. The morally dubious geniuses of Lab 8, adept with all kinds of concoctions, had managed to brew a beverage with some serious punch and flavor. Band could practically feel energy seeping through his true body and out into his mechanical chassis, so there was no denying its effectiveness, but it tasted just a little…off. Like whatever wacky contraptions the beans had been put through hadn’t been fully purged of mad science beforehand. And there was no telling what kind of additives Coyle or Stanley had infused for the sake of ‘optimization’.

Still, as long as the coffee did its job, Band guessed he couldn’t complain. Plus, breakfast was always better when shared with a friend. Unlike him, Ileum needed a lot of food to sustain her bizarre biology, but she did make a charming effort to be as discreet about her appetite as she could. She also did her best to make sure Band didn’t see whatever lay beneath her mask as she ate, and to respect her wishes, the detective didn’t pry. The two chatted as they passed a few minutes together, mostly about the littles and their antics. When the subject of Peacock came up, Lab 8’s unofficial mom and dad had plenty of old mischief to talk about. With her cartoonish personality and powers, that little lunatic turned every day into a series of nonstop hijinx, so there was no shortage of anecdotes that neither Band nor Ileum had heard about from the other before. Without her around Lab 8 was a lot more peaceful, but both admitted to missing her.

With another long day of World Warrior Pools fights coming up soon, though, pleasantries could only last so long. Before heading out Band needed to pay Coyle a quick visit to report on his new arms’ field test, both to satisfy the not-so-good doctor’s curiosity and to receive a quick tune-up. Overall, Band had no complaints. The explosive beatdown he’d delivered to Balrog at the end of his last fight yesterday, express mailed from long range, had been very satisfying. Hopefully the Lokjaws would serve him just as well today.

As Band prepared to shuffle back up the stairs and into the daylight, he deployed a mechanical arm to plug his linkpearl back into his ear. He hadn’t heard a peep since last night, and while he would typically assume that no news meant good news, the detective didn’t like taking chances. “Mornin’, y’all,” he greeted the team as he began his journey. Hopefully everyone was awake by now and hadn’t left their linkpearls on their nightstands. “Nothin’ went bump in the night, I hope? We meetin’ somewhere, or headin’ straight to the fights?” Another rendezvous probably wasn’t necessary so soon after last night, but no time spent with his team sounded like a mistake to Big Band.

The Midnight Walk - Winterhold College

Setting: Labyrinthine Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (3/100) Level 7 Heismay (42/70)
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:

Even though everyone had survived the underground ordeal with the bugs, including the expedition’s newest member, morale was low overall. Getting undermined in one’s sleep and plummeting down into a frozen cavern full of vicious insects was not a good start to one’s day, and it didn’t look like things would improve much. During the journey thus far, the stagecoach had become a home away from home for the Seekers of White Team, providing shelter from the elements, relief from wearisome travel, useful technology, and all the supplies that everyone desperately needed.

Whether as they traveled alongside it, repaired and upgraded it, or fought to defend it, most of them had grown fond of the huge, bulky, nigh-impregnable thing. Even though the stagecoach had never received a name, it was practically a team member in and of itself, and one that more than carried its weight. As such, the prospect of parting with it and trudging on through the blizzard on foot -however necessary that might be- was understandably upsetting.

Still in the process of figuring out human emotions, for all the good it would do her in the long-term, Sandalphon realized the effect her declaration had on the mood a little late. Everyone was glumly watching Edward collect Fultons for the expeditionary steeds as they supped on meager stew, invigorated by the warm leftovers in only the vaguest sense of the word. As Edward prepared to warp the stagecoach to the Avenger, everyone could imagine their beloved vehicle disassembled and stripped for parts by those grubby, ungrateful Lost Numbers. Some members of the team were more disgruntled than others, and Sandalphon felt it necessary to say something. She cleared her throat.

“Although its true that we’ll have to make do without our reliable stagecoach from here on out, allow me to reassure you that we’re far closer to our destination than you all might imagine. Climbing through the mountain via drill rig versus treacherous exterior paths resulted in a substantial shortcut. By my calculations, in terms of ground to cover, our expedition to Moon Mountain is ninety-seven percent complete. We do not have far to go, and nor will we need to painstakingly gather additional provisions. Stand strong, Seekers of Light. We are nearly there.”

Once the stagecoach, drilldozer, and most Edward’s menagerie were sent away, White Team felt greatly diminished. Down to just thirteen members, the expedition members felt small and isolated, exposed to piercing winds and freezing cold made worse than ever by the high altitude. The stew did help a little, but everyone was soon eyeing the castle perched atop the pillar in the path ahead, scanning its battlements for any sign of hostile defenders as they anticipated hurrying inside.

As the Seekers made for the bridge that led to the sky-high citadel’s front door, Professor Layton paused a moment to kneel by the strange monument in front of the stairs, transfixed by the purplish vortex that swirled within its circular gap.

Crunching through the snow behind him, Geralt paused. His amulet was humming quietly, and something about the carving rubbed him the wrong way. “What are you doing?”

“This structure intrigues me,” Layton admitted, tentatively reaching out his hand. ”I can only wonder at its historical function. In fact, this reminds me of a puzzle…”

Geralt’s eyebrows rose as he gritted his teeth. “Wait a moment! It looks like some kind of-!”

The moment Layton’s hand touched the magic swirl, the vortex intensified, exerting a powerful gravitational pull. In an instant the professor vanished inside, and the other Seekers flew toward it, unable to escape the pull. Geralt roared in vitriolic outrage as he too got dragged inside and everything became a nauseating, tumultuous darkness “PORTAAAAAAAL!”

A few seconds later the pull subsided, leaving the snowfield quiet and empty, as if nobody had ever been there at all.

The Tale of Frederic

---

Undercroft - Edward’s @DracoLunaris

Edward came to in a large, dark cave, luckily neither quite as cold or icy as the one he’d been subjected to earlier that morning. He was lying on a square stone platform surrounded by a formidable masonwork railing, with a couple aged barrels around him. In front of him, a stone staircase curved to the left as it descended deeper in what appeared to be a subterranean chasm, its belly filled with water that softly shimmered as if reflecting distant moonlight. The bottom of the staircase created a T-shaped intersection, with the leftward path leading into what seemed like a room recessed into the cave wall, its interior mostly hidden from this angle although the presence of chairs suggested some kind of dwelling.

To the right, a bridge led across the chasm, down some stairs, and into another and even more inscrutable recessed room. Both chambers featured a superficially gothic architectural pattern, suggesting some sort of grandiose ruin fallen to time. The bridges and stairs at least appeared to be in good shape, structurally sound and sufficiently lit by a couple different styles of brazier. Edward could hear the squeaks of bats as they fluttered around the cave, and a few dead bats could be seen on different parts of the structure, which was a strange and rare observation in the World of Light.

Behind Edward stood a heavy-looking wooden double door, and should he travel to the other side of the cavern another could be found beyond the well-lit threshold. The leftward chamber, meanwhile, would turn out to be an odd sort of sanctum, perhaps used for worship or liturgical study. In it, above the rickety chairs and desks covered with indecipherable old writings, hung an ornate bell. And if he looked closely at the rock walls of the chasm, small veins of coal and lapis lazuli could be found.

---

Operating Theater - Blazermate’s @Archmage MC

Blazermate came to in a creepy, vaulted chamber smothered in tattered curtains and spider silk. Appallingly dark, it featured only a couple glass globes containing glowing fireflies and a faint spotlight from above for illumination. The floor itself appeared to be made of molded metal, or perhaps lustrous chitin, arranged in ceremonious circles and ridges. Fallen surgical tools could be found around toppled tables, wheelchairs and gurneys, with broken bindings that suggested involuntary captivity. Most striking of all was the enormous metal contraption that stood in the room’s center, a pair of arcs supporting a half-dozen giant spikes pointed inward, strung with dimly luminous silk and outrageously, surgically sharp. There seemed to be two wooden double doors to allow patients in and out. Just what had been happening here?

At first blush this strange, foreboding room was oppressively quiet, but if Blazermate listened carefully she might be able to make out the sound of terror-stricken breathing, not quite fully suppressed. Following that sound, and moving aside some ruined furniture, would lead her to the hiding spot of a little pilgrim, insectoid in nature, who cowered beneath the wide brass brim of a roughly bell-shaped hat, needle and brass ringer in hand.

---

Cursed Armory - Sectonia’s @Archmage MC Mokou’s @Goggy

Seemingly by random chance, Sectonia and Mokou awoke together in a most fantastical room. It appeared to be a tall vault with red brick walls, with a couple levels constructed from wooden logs to make floors and stairs. It was well-lit by candle sconces for the purpose of displaying what could only be described as a smorgasbord of loot. Everywhere the two looked, they found expensive-looking, ornate magical items of all shapes and sizes. There were robes, fancy clothes, and suits of armor on mannequins. There were various relics framed on the walls, as well as shelves of brilliantly colorful potions that shifted and sparkled in the light. Large artifacts could be found on tables or even standing on their own, their purposes unknown. All sorts of weapons from swords to bows to staves glittered on their high shelves, arranged around an enormous wall-mounted tome and pink crystal beneath the light of a fancy chandelier. The whole place hummed with magic, and one didn’t need Sectonia’s arcane sense to feel that. What an incredible, unbelievable collection!

Try as they might, the two could spot only one wooden double door without look or key, and no guards or means of security at all. For a treasure hunter, this was undoubtedly the find of a lifetime. For a cynic, though, it was hard to look at all this unfathomable wealth and power and not think it a little…too good to be true.

---

Dormitory - Ace Cadet’s @Yankee

The Ace Cadet soon found himself in a rather unremarkable dorm room, all things considered. With floors, walls, and a ceiling of stone brick, it felt rather spartan, an impression that a couple dark red rugs and paintings of old, experienced-looking wizards did little too alleviate. Four twin beds were arranged around a central, columnar hearth, where a fire crackled merrily–a welcome relief from the cold. Each bed featured a pale purple-blue blanket, two pillars, and a nightstand. One bed did have a lot of white dog fur on it, though, and in the accompanying nightstand Ace could find a bag of extra-large dog treats, two-thirds full. The room seemed to have only one exit, a pair of double doors opposite him, and not much else going on. Although…he could hear a faint, intermittent scratching and tapping that came from directly above. What was this place, and why did everything -from the furniture to the building itself- reek subtly but uncomfortably of magic?

---

Archmage Quarters - Roxas’s @Double & Somnadrix

Roxas wound up in a cylindrical room of heavy stone brick, its upper reaches ribbed by stone support beams that met in a central ring of reinforcement over an odd indoor garden. A variety of plants and fungi could be found there, including medicinal root, hidden mandrake, bulbous red nether wart in patches of shifting soul sand, bleeding crown mushrooms, pleasant purple lavender, and yelough shrubs with ripe fruit uncannily similar to eyeballs, all beneath a pair of magical dancing fairy lights.

The rest of the room appeared to be the personal chamber of a sorcerer, a somewhat pragmatic fusion of bedroom, study, and larder all in one. There was a bed laden with heavy blankets, a table for meals, and a workdesk.This chamber’s lack of luxury suggested that its inhabitant, however important, ought to be focused on scholarly pursuits and arcane theory rather than worldly gain. That said, there did still seem to be a couple of interesting artifacts ripe for the taking around the room: a Stone of Barenziah on a bookshelf, boots enchanted with 40% shock resistance, a dwarven dagger, in a display case, a Staff of the Frost Atronach on a shelf, and multiple types of filled soul gems.

Roxas wasn’t alone here, though. Near the center of the room, by the garden, stood a frazzled, black-hared painter in a black smock and blue beret, wearing a green ring and no shoes. He seemed surprised by the keyblade wielder’s sudden arrival, but unsure of whether or not to reach out to him in greeting. As a result he averted his gaze, sneaking peeks every now and then as he waited for Roxas to break the ice.

---

Library of Negated Words - Ganondorf’s @Double

Ganondorf came to the bottom floor of what appeared to be a very tall octagonal library, although on closer inspection it looked almost more like a dungeon. Shelves of books could be seen behind steel grates reinforced with locks and chains, preventing all access to the reading material. Light filtered through a grate in the highest point of the domed ceiling, so darkness predominated at the very bottom of the library. In those shadows, ghostly green librarians, cloaked and cowled floated in ceaseless procession. They phased out from the walls, proceeded straight across the room, and disappeared through the opposite walls without ever deviating. This presented an obstacle, forcing any visitors disinclined to touch the specters to carefully time their movements. All over the floor the warlord could fine patches of torn-out pages, blotted with black ink to prevent any interpretation of the script therein. Touching or even stepping on these pages would greatly accelerate the ghosts, making them much more dangerous.

Far more active threats could be found in the Library of Negated Words, however. Two Headless Chamberlains had taken up residence in the upper reaches, their severed heads resting on crimson pillows. Once alerted, they could send out floating heads like wrathful spirits to chase their enemies down, relentless until the main body could be dealt with.

Not all faces within the Library were unfriendly, though. In one corner stood a somber watchman, Diosdado, his face hidden beneath a leathery hood and wide-brimmed hat. Keys jingled in the ring in his hand and around his neck, while the lantern he carried flickered in the dark. He steered well away from the ghosts, but did not shy away from Ganondorf. Every few seconds Diosdado seemed to flinch from something, as if disturbed by something only he could hear. The Library of Negated Words offered two wooden double doors to anyone wishing to leave, far less restricted than the bookshelves.

---

Hall of the Elements - Ramattra’s @XoXKieroBombXoX

Within the College of Winterhold, Ramattra appeared in a stone lecture hall. Strong winds rattled the frosted windows, and blue mage lights shone atop plinths around the room’s perimeter, but by far the most remarkable feature of the Hall of Elements lay in its center. There, a circular basin stood atop a raised dias, and over it floated a huge crystalline sphere housed within some sort of metal frame. The sphere was marvellously beautiful, aglow with an uncanny and intriguing light from within that constantly undulated, like sun rays through shallow tropical water. It slowly rotated in place, held aloft in the air by some kind of sorcery. Power practically radiated from it, although its decidedly magical nature made it totally foreign to any kind of energy that the Omnic had ever experienced.

Other than the Eye of Magnus, the Hall of Elements featured little other than three wooden double doors.

---

Observatory - Tenna’s @XoXKieroBombXoX & Traffy the Traffikrab

Tenna powered on in a small, rather quaint observatory pleasantly illuminated by the soft yellow glow of five electric wall lights arranged around the interior. In the center stood the mount for the observatory’s telescope, intricate and sizeable, which dominated much of the space. Its business end point out through a rift in the domed ceiling, through which Tenna could see the dark, cloudy, wintry sky of the Frozen Highlands, without a star in sight. A few tables could be found around the bottom floor, each sporting a pronounced curve that indicated its bespoke design for this place, and all featured journals, textbooks, or planetary models. A single door led out of this room, while a wooden staircase provided a way up to the semicircular observation deck, perhaps for telescope maintenance. Everything seemed very mundane, perfectly quiet and with nothing out of the ordinary, and yet…Tenna couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone. That someone -or something- was watching him.

After a few moments, turning around confronted Tenna with something that hadn’t been there before: words, scrawled on the door in some sort of bluish fluid, probably paint. Hello, it read, with a little heart drawn on for good measure.

---

Grand Archives - Sandalphon

Sandalphon stirred with a groan, the mobile half of her face scrunched up in pain. She suppressed the urge to jerk awake, knowing it would only hurt more, and focused on breathing deeply. When she opened her eye, the archangel instantly realized that she’d changed locations. She seemed to be inside, with no snow or cold in sight, and a stone ceiling high above her instead of a dark, cloudy sky. The last thing she remembered was Layton inadvertently activating that magic device, which then forcefully sucked everyone in. It must have been some kind of trap connected to the castle ahead of them. Unfortunately, she could hear no familiar voices, and when she gingerly turned her head from one side to another, Sandalphon couldn’t see her fellow Seekers either.

Instead, she beheld some sort of archive. The abundance of books everywhere she looked made her think of a library at first, but there seemed to be no regard for order, cleanliness, accessibility, or even safety. There were candles everywhere, which lit up the space well enough, but in many cases the candles stood directly atop piles of ruined books. Add to that all the hanging lengths of cloth, and one wrong move would be enough to turn this huge chamber into a giant inferno. Though, judging by the amount of melted candlewax in this place, the owners of this archive had been obscenely lucky. It practically blanketed the floor, covering all the furniture in ghostly white shells. A lot seemed to have collected in a vat against one of the walls, seemingly warm enough thanks to all the surrounding candles that the wax within was still liquid.

It wasn’t just the room that the wax had claimed. After a moment, the sound of multiple footsteps alerted the archangel to a handful of people headed her way. Willing to take no chances, Sandalphon clinched her teeth and scooted herself behind a wax-coated sofa. Her huge halo gave away her hiding place somewhat, but she didn’t have much choice. When she peeked out from her hiding spot, she observed a couple robed scholars with heads covered in wax, the coated contours disturbingly reminiscent of bare skulls. In their pale hands they clutched candlesticks like daggers. Only one scholar’s wick blazed with flame, and the others followed their lit leader. They approached, slowing down as their eyeless sockets took in the area, and Sandalphon held her breath. A few seconds later, the scholars turned to move on, their bodies even more painfully stiff-looking than the archangel’s.

On a hunch Sandalphon ran a quick scan, and sure enough, it turned up negative. These things were little more than corpses, though that didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. Especially to her, given her condition. She craned her neck upward to try and get a better idea of the archives’ scale, wondering where the others were. If the magical trap had separated them, they could all be in danger. Reuniting with her fellow Seekers was her first priority. But would trying to escape the archives be riskier for her than staying put and hoping that someone found her first? Warping to one of them was also an option, but doing so without knowing where they were -or what they were up against- presented its own problems. This was a tricky situation. Whatever happened, Sandalphon would have a great deal to thank Layton for when she found him.

---

Alchemical Lab - Heismay

With a frustrated snarl, Heismay stirred and blinked his big, ruby-red eyes open, a hand on his aching head. Instead of a dark, snowy mountainside, he found himself in a rather grim -if not outright macabre- laboratory of some kind. Most of what light there was came from by eerie green orbs within hanging metal lanterns, casting latticed shadows everywhere. Strange skeletons that couldn’t belong to any natural creature could be found hanging from the ceiling or made into freestanding sculptures, but the real horror came in the form of the bubbling specimen jars crowding the main research table, housing all manner of ghastly, fleshy homunculi. Heismay took in the tables, of alchemical equipment, towering blackboards covered in illegible scrawls, and shelves full of nasty ingredients. It was almost over-the-top in its commitment to the evil laboratory aesthetic, in fact, which nothing epitomized better than the bat wings atop the backs of the tall green chairs.

In contrast to the room around him, the actual alchemist at work here didn’t look that bad. He looked like a pretty suave fellow, the academic look of his lab coat tempered by long black dreadlocks, a green shirt that showed plenty of his toned chest, and leather thighboots. A wooden staff with a deep blue gem in its crook floated at his side as he mixed chemicals and recorded observations, focused on his work.

When he did look Heismay’s way, he gave a succinct wave, then turned back to the task at hand. Heismay, not quite ready with a tentative greeting, froze up a little and didn’t manage to return the wave before he lost the alchemist’s attention. Strange…one would almost think from the man’s behavior that he had nothing to do with Heismay’s presence here. So why was he here, and without any of the other Seekers? Had that magical trap separated them somehow, perhaps scattering them throughout the castle? To what purpose? To divide and conquer seemed like the most probably answer, but nothing had attacked him yet. Heismay burned with questions, but his main concern was regrouping with the others before any of them got hurt.

“Dammit,” he mumbled, furious that the team had fallen prey to such a scheme. The curse got the attention of the alchemist again, who gave a look somewhere between concern and amusement. Heismay cleared his throat and picked himself up, figuring it was time to make contact. “Ahem! Pardon me. I believe I appeared here quite suddenly. Do you know where I am?”

The alchemist held up a finger as if asking for silence. Heismay grumbled. “Very well, I can wait…” At that, the alchemist shook his head, pointing at his throat. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. Heismay’s brow rose again as he reassessed the situation. “Oh, are you mute?” Grimacing, the alchemist wobbled a horizontal fanned hand, essentially saying kind of? He grabbed a nearby notepad and began to write, so Heismay padded forward to get a better look. After a moment, the alchemist showed him the notepad. “I’m cursed. Can’t speak,” he read. “This is Winterhold College. Magic school. My alchemy lab.” The eugief nodded. “I see. Thank you for your help, kind sir. I don’t suppose there’s anything else you can tell me?”

After a little more writing, Heismay read the new update. “Rooms shift around. Inconsistent. Don’t know how to leave. I’m fine here though. Be careful.” Heismay pursed his lips. “Understood. My thanks. I need to go look for my comrades. Let me know if I can be of any help to you, as well.” The alchemist nodded as he turned back to his work, leaving Heismay to pick out one of the two doors and continue onward.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (233/150) Level 11 Big Band (143/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1972

Thanks to the distances involved, and her general lack of focus which could be diverted by any number of things, Nadia wasn’t privy to any of the conversation that went on between the Seekers in Chanko House Edomon. Instead she bided her time outside at the pub across the street, swishing her tail as she watched people go by.

In Esaka, there was never any shortage of distractions. Between weird-looking yokai arguing about food as they loitered around the eaves and inebriated patrons drinking away their disappointment at early tournament eliminations, Nadia drifted in and out of various conversations, gleaning little of any interest. Random street fights and bar brawls were so stunningly commonplace in the city of fighters that most simply didn’t bear mentioning, and even those that did make their way through the rumor will weren’t liable to offer any useful info. And thanks to her natural regeneration from the Life Gem, she couldn’t even get a buzz from one or two beers; it would take an unseemly amount to overload her system. That left Nadia just sitting there on her impromptu stakeout, bored, as she sipped some British brown ale.

Things changed, however, when her comrades finally finished their chanko feast and began to filter out of the restaurant. Nadia quickly abandoned her casual lounging spot and made herself scarce. Some of the Seekers were just too perceptive for their own good, after all. The feral didn’t mind if her friend Primrose spotted her, but with Therion’s skill at espionage, the last thing she needed was for her fellow thief to catch wind of her and flip the script by tailing her instead. As loath as she was to admit it, Nadia knew who the better burglar was. Better to not give him the chance to practice his art.

When Pit singled out a couple teammates and took them aside, though, the catgirl couldn’t help but be curious. At first, it just looked like some sort of offhanded delivery, though when the excited word ‘presents’ drifted over to her discrete hiding spot on the breeze, Nadia paid more attention. Gifts, apparently from White Team? How’d they manage that? The feral could only assume they’d roped the Lost Numbers into this. Then again, it would have made more sense for them to be delivered alongside the Bogard twins. More importantly, why wasn’t there one for her? That was a mild annoyance, but she could justify it away by saying she couldn’t have blown her cover to accept a gift even if there was one. Oh well!

She was becoming both increasingly bored and aware that the other Seekers were getting farther away from her until Pit dropped the words that every eavesdropper cherished: secret plans. At that, Nadia sidled slightly closer for a better listen, going as far as to crouch down behind a lazy yokai dozing by the sidewalk. To her great misfortune, however, Junior and Rika buzzed off, leaving Amatarasu to communicate with pit via some intermediary Nadia didn’t really understand, which led to a very one-sided conversation.

Pit, at least, spilled the beans about his currently planned undertaking. It sounded like maybe the tournaments weren’t all going so well, and the Seekers were considering stockpiling more allies. When the angel mentioned freeing his dojo mates, Nadia began to feel a little guilty. As much as she liked her fellow NMO members and was rooting for success, she hadn’t considered freeing them. Hers was a burden she didn’t want to foist on them, after all, and even if she decided she couldn’t do this on her own, would the others really help her? They (especially Annie) had been kind enough (in Annie’s own way, of course) to help her so far, but the quest to save the worlds was a different ball game.

Nadia was so busy pondering that issue that it took Pit mentioning something ‘wiped out by Moebius’ to make her focus again. Is he talking about Alcamoth? she thought. As grim as that had been, he better be; she really didn’t need anyone else getting wiped out by Moebius right. From there the conversation sort of wound down, so Nadia got moving, eventually tailing the other Seekers to the High Rollers’ Club. Sadly, the feral decided that the risk of discovery was just too high for her to stroll in and see the inside of a casino for herself, so once again she had to turn away from the main group to find some other way to entertain herself. Man, this ‘lone hero’ thing is hard…

Still, there were plenty of places one could spend money in the High Tier. Not far from the casino at all lay a small cobblestone plaza where a bunch of booths had been set up in opposing rows, carnival-style, with a number of two-person wrought-iron tables between them. Nadia’s keen sense of smell drew her to the crepes stand, and after about a minute the feral had a little plastic basket loaded with crispy unleavened pastries filled with hazelnut chocolate spread. Nadia made her way to an empty table, laid down her basket on the red-and-white tablecloth, and started munching. The crepes were sweet and flavorful, very good, but Nadia could help but stare at the empty seat across from her and wish that a certain monster hunter was here to share this treat with her.

…Then again, given how much he tended to eat, maybe it was for the best.

While eating, Nadia kept an eye on a couple street performers in the plaza area, all three of them clowns. One looked fairly traditional, although he seemed to serious to actually be that funny and wasn’t drawing much of a crowd, while another (a blue-haired freak known only as T.H.I.S.) looked positively monstrous as it juggled chainsaws. Amusingly, it seemed to have attracted a number of fighters disturbed by its appearance, who were just waiting for any reason to jump in and beat the hell out of it, so if anyone was afraid for their life it was probably T.H.I.S. The standout was a cute clown lady with springy arms who could do tricks with nunchucks and flying chakrams, and it looked like she had plenty of adoring fans.

Inside the High Rollers’ Club, meanwhile, a handful of Seekers were busy entertaining themselves. Few were having a better time in there than the Bogard twins. Once they installed themselves at a roulette table, the pair proceeded to kick off the evening with an impressive win streak. Their wins earned them some curious and even questioning looks, so Band hovered nearby to keep an eye out for trouble. The twins did lose a few times, though, and their winnings were never massive. Eventually, most of their doubters were forced to concede that they were simply very lucky. And lucky for them, Bart and Marg were wise enough to move from table to table rather than bleed anyone dry, in order to avoid invoking more ire than usual.

Still, that kind of luck was bound to cause problems, so Band stayed close. Just standing behind the two with a sour look on his face was enough to dissuade the casual complainer, but Band saw more than one well-dressed casino staffer whispering to a coworker or murmuring into an earpiece. Abusing their uncommon good luck had already earned the kids some unwanted attention, and sooner or later, Band knew that this simmering pot was going to boil over.

Not all the Seekers were here to gamble. Roland wandered the floor, hoping to find someone who would interest him. He cast a wide net, not approaching or initiating with anyone in particular, and though this limited his options his ‘efforts’ eventually bore fruit anyway. After passing by a strange gaggle of pirates at a bar, who surrounded a lovely young woman who must have been their leader, Roland found himself faced with a beautiful Chinese lady with pink hair, a bright yellow qipao that hugged her quite tightly, and lusterless dark purple eyes beneath Galeem’s glare. “Well, there you are, handsome,” Marilyn Sue Daije greeted him as she hooked her arm around his, her bangles jingling as she fanned herself with a silk tuanshan. Not far away, a very serious-looking, dark-haired young man in uniform watched her with a frown on his face, but the lady pretended he wasn’t there. “I think its about time for that drink you promised me, hm?”

Band’s continuous observation of the casino interior meant that when a couple new players emerged from a back room, the detective took notice. The fact that these two, a man and a woman of about equal height, wore similar outfits and came armed with rattan escrima sticks stood out to him right away. They both sported a gray jacket lined with white fur, the man’s long enough to be a trench coat while the woman made up the difference with long dark hair, with a white ascot, but while the man wore a brown vest with white slacks, his counterpart preferred a brown silk shirt with brown shorts. Regardless, both had a commanding presence that caused customers and subordinates alike to shrink away as they sauntered through, and they were physically big, big enough that they might as well be called Mr. and Mrs. Big.

Though of course, neither was as big as Big Band. He figured the luxuriously-dressed duo might be siblings, but more importantly, he assumed they were the floor managers here, if not the big cheeses in charge. He also had to assume the worst: that they were here to address the matter of the Bogard twins’ consistent wins. If the house wasn’t always winning, after all, that was a Big problem.

While Bart and Marg were watching their latest roulette roll, the detective deployed a pair of spindly mechanical arms to nudge them in their backs. “We got trouble,” he alerted them in a low tone. “Head honchos, it looks like, comin’ this way. Better pull out and cash out before things get hairy.”

The twins looked at Band, then past him at the Bigs, then at each other. Neither wanted to quit just yet, but there was a fine line between being lucky and being foolhardy. After exchanging a knowing glance with his sister, Bart discreetly adjusted his tie, just barely nudging his distinctive gemstone broach. The jewel set within, half silvery green aventurine and half luminous amber, gleamed every-so-slightly. A second later, the ivory pill fell into the red eighteen slot, which neither twin had wagered on. “Awwwww!” Both he and his sister chorused, making a big show of their disappointment. “What a bust,” Bart complained.

“Ouch,” Marg added. “After a loss like that, I guess our lucky streak’s run out.”

Shaking his head, Bart backed away from the table, waving at the very annoyed-looking staffer at the table. “Alright, guess we’ll get outta your hair. Toodles!”

The two turned to head for the money counter with their many remaining chips, only to find both Bigs stopped directly in front of them, their faces severe. Band let out a sigh, his mind racing. They hadn’t been fast enough. This could get ugly.

---

Now that the sun had set and night had fallen over the Forbidden Kingdom, the High Tier’s most notable zoo was closed for the day. No guests could enter through the giant locked gates at this hour, but that didn’t mean the zoo was abandoned, as a number of zookeepers, janitors, and other workers were still hard at work, and a handful of security officers -mostly miis- had begun their night shift. These factors meant that the retrieval of Mr. Chevalier’s take-out would be a bit more complicated than Sakura, Primrose, and Therion might have thought.

That said, Anji’s specific mention of Rugal’s Panther Zoo did narrow down the search area quite a bit. Rather than the whole zoo being dedicated to panthers, that spot appeared to be a specific subsection of the zoo, judging by the marked-up maps that would be visible on any zoo brochure (whether retrieved from outside trash bins or otherwise). In fact, Rugal’s Panther Zoo occupied a spot fairly close to the entrance, bordering an exterior wall, so that anyone passing near the complex might be intrigued by the animal sounds and tempted to buy a ticket. As such, the dropped parcel had to be somewhere in that area.

That realization presented its own problems, of course. If it had landed in a panther enclosure it would probably be toast already as the panthers smelled the tantalizing aroma of stewed chicken. If the take-out landed outside, though, a worker could have found it instead. With the whole meal intact, there would be no sense in wasting it, so the worker would have logically taken it somewhere to see whose it was. And where better than the front office, directly between the main gate and Rugal’s Panther Zoo? Still, even if that line of thinking proved to be correct, retrieving it -whether through stealth or diplomacy- would be tricky. A challenge worthy of a suitable reward from the United Nations’ leadership.

The Midnight Walk - Glacial Strata

Setting: Murky Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (5/100) Level 7 Heismay (44/70)
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: 931

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 5/8 | 🛡️: 3/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Vegetubes/Icebox

When it came to the team’s escape route, the drilldozer might have been at the forefront, but it was Edward Portsmith who demonstrated that when the going got tough, it was the Dreadnought’s time to shine. Especially with his brand new beard, inspirational in its size and triangular shape. The mobile perimeter he set up behind the stagecoach ensured that only a scant few glyphids and terminids managed to breach the defensive line (mostly by crawling on the ceiling out of the golems’ reach), easy pickings for Edward’s allies like Mokou and Ace. Even then, he had enough minions to spare to help scour the caves the dozer carved into.

Though brilliant blue-pink quartz and luminescent mushroom grottos did intrigue Heismay, he left their contents for Sectonia, Ramattra, and the others. The eugief stayed put aboard the drilldozer as the final line of defense to ensure no stray crawlers or surprise burrowers reached the contraption to threaten the caravan’s progress. It took some serious concentration for him to drown out the infernal din created by the dozer’s tunneling, which hurt his sensitive ears and made communication impossible, in order to cut down his foes, but Heismay remained steadfast. With primarily rank-and-file glyphids and terminids fast enough to trace the dozer, Heismay’s steady longsaber carved up bug after bug. If an errant arthropod did somehow manage to get all the way to the dozer, the guardian would be alerted by the onboard AI’s high-pitched screeching, the only thing loud enough to cut through the racket. Neither he nor Mokou would stomach that for long.

With defense taken care of, the only piece of the puzzle left was upkeep, and Blazermate was once again proving her worth. Canister in hand, she could fly around to reach the deposits of oil shell hidden up in the darkness out of reach, then zip back down to keep the dozer up and running. Whatever superficial damage the vehicle received from gnashing fangs and bladed claws, a few whacks of her Engineer striker could fix. All the moving parts came together to keep the convoy moving like a well-oiled machine, with both danger and downtime minimized to very manageable levels.

Still, it took a long time (and a lot of oil shell) to drill back up through solid rock to the surface. The constant noise, reverberations, and acrid fumes certainly didn’t make things easier. When the giant drill finally broke through a crumbling wall of rock and the bitterly cold wind rushed in, it was actually a relief. The drilldozer rolled out into the thick snow, plowed straight through a dead tree, and with a synthetic groan came to rest among the splinters on a small snowy field illuminated by a couple free-standing light pylons. Overhead, the sky above the Frozen Highlands was as dark and cloudy as ever. Heismay shivered in his heavy coat. It felt even colder than it had before.

Thanks once again to Edward perhaps, the team had emerged at quite an opportune spot. Through this snowfield, hemmed in by walls on one side and a sheer drop on the other, ran the Midnight Walk, as evidenced by the burnt matchsticks that flanked the path’s unmistakable pattern. To the right, downhill from here, it looked like an avalanche had blocked the path that the stagecoach would have otherwise needed to traverse. To the left the Midnight Walk continued uphill, but instead of circling what could only be Moon Mountain as it climbed higher and higher, it quickly terminated in a sheer drop. The only way forward was manmade: a rather narrow stone bridge, encrusted with icicles, that spanned the gap to a great stone pillar with what looked like a castle perched atop it.

At the foot of the first staircase stood a small arcane monument, with some kind of magical energy whirling inside it. When Heismay looked around, though, he couldn’t find much else. This snowfield was barren, with no alternate way forward that he could see. At least there were no enemies present either, or defenders stationed atop the castle ramparts, which meant that every one could wipe off the bug gunk and rest up for a bit.

Heismay let out his breath at last. “That’s enough action for me for one morning,” he complained as he massaged his aching ears, then turned back toward the stagecoach. “After all that noise and jostling, I could use a nice, quiet sit-down. Don’t suppose there’s any more stew?” A bite of something warm and hearty was just what he needed. Without any semblance of breakfast, it would be a very long, very hard day. As he approached the rear door, it swung open to let Sandalphon out. He got a good look at her condition, though he ended up wishing he hadn’t. He bit his tongue and stepped aside to let her past in silence, then hopped up the rear steps to access the stagecoach’s interior.

Now Sandalphon surveyed the mountainside, quickly coming to the same unspoken conclusions as the team’s scout. For all the effort the team put in to keep the stagecoach with them, it didn’t look like they could take it any farther than here, not with a bridge half as wide as the vehicle itself. “Let’s gather ourselves and make ready,” she declared, careful with her facial motions as she spoke so the petrified side wouldn’t cause her pain. “Barring any new discoveries, we continue on foot.”

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (233/150) Level 11 Big Band (143/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1614

Although the food and atmosphere here were enjoyable enough, Big Band did not ravenously dig into his chanko like some of the others did. On one hand, the stew was rich and dense, jam-packed with enough protein and calories to build up the trademark gigantic guts of strong-fat sumo wrestlers, if consumed in ample enough portions alongside ample portions of rice and beer. Band did not have much of a body to fuel these days, so he did not require much sustenance, and he wasn’t too familiar with bok choy or daikon radishes either. On the other hand, his main focus was on what his fellow Seekers brought to the table, whether they had insight on tournament matches, G-Corp activities, or missing team members.

As far as Esaka’s four tournaments went, everyone here seemed to be doing well. All seven of them stuck it out in Winners so far, with many two-zero victories reported. As it turned out, Band’s string of strange opponents hadn’t really been anything unusual; all of them had been matched up against a weirdo or two, including a monkey. Just how many animals did they let into these competitions, after all? Just as Roland pointed out, though, things wouldn’t be easy going forward, especially with a reduced headcount. Losing track of several registrants in Tekken wasn’t good, but at least the Seekers still had a horse in that race. Losing Terry, on the other hand, might mean forfeiture from King of Fighters. If Rugal went unchallenged, the team’s campaign in Esaka would be dead in the water.

Luckily for everyone else, though, Big Band was the type of man to do his homework. “I checked up on the rules, actually,” he began. “In any other tournament, no-shows are disqualified. But in King of Fighters, ‘cause every participant’s a team of three, a substitution can be made if one member can’t make it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Only problem is, findin’ a replacement for Mr. Bogard.”

As he spoke, the twins Bart and Marg glanced at each other, then crossed their arms as smiles spread across their faces. “How about his grandkids?”

Responses to their suggestion were predictably mixed, but for his part, Band didn’t shut them down immediately. He did, however, reply with all the incredulity they were due. “You ain’t serious?” the detective asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just kids. And Lost Numbers, to boot. Unlike us, you two are one-of-a-kind. Once you’re gone, you don’t get another chance.” Before they could speak, he deployed a spindly mechanical arm to help him speak via gesticulation. “And one more thing! The folks aboard the Avenger, they know about this? If I’m on the money, they probably don’t even know you snuck out, let alone that you’re gonna risk it all in a tournament!"

Although the twins remained levelheaded, there was enough irritation in their body language that Band knew they’d been questioned like this before. “Everyone in this city’s a fighter, right?” Barg questioned him back. “We saw plenty of kids on the way here, some younger than us. I bet they compete all the time.”

“Case in point!” Marg pointed at Junior and Rika.

Band shook his head. The twins had made an erroneous assumption. “Those two ain’t competin’,” he corrected them. “And even if kids do, that don’t make it right. And…wait. Which one of you’s takin’ the spot, anyhow?”

“Both of us,” they chorused.

When Band stared at them blankly, Marg elaborated. “This city’s got duo fighters, too. Saw some on billboards in the Low Tier on the way up.” At that point, Yayama, Captain Falcon, and others could potentially chime in to corroborate the existence of duo fighters as well, like Ferra/Torr and the Ice Climbers.

“Plus, we’ve got the power to make it happen,” Bart insisted as Marg nodded. “Each of us have half a Geo Vision and the Aventurine of Stratagems Cornerstone from our grandparents on our mom’s side.”

“Might not mean anything to you, but they’re crazy strong artifacts,” Marg added. “When we’re together, our stratagems are unstoppable.”

Her brother did not miss his chance to shoot a sidelong glance at Falcon. “As long as you trust us enough to enact them.”

His sister put a calming hand on his shoulder before making a final appeal. “For us, every day is a gamble. The Avenger could malfunction, someone inside it could turn on us, Moebius could catch up with us at last, or we could get food poisoning. The only freedom we have is the choices we make.”

“Preserving our lives has no value if we don’t use them,” Bart chimed in. “We don’t want to sit idly by and be saved. We are the will of the Lost Numbers, and we’re going to help save everything.”

The debate would continue a little longer before petering out, the question ultimately left without a definitive answer. Band didn’t approve, but he also acknowledged that the team might not have much of a choice, as well as the fact that the twins’ lives were theirs to live. After that, the dinner conversation continued. Band glanced briefly at Primrose when she mentioned nefarious laboratories, wondering if Lab 8 fell into that category. For a wolf who couldn’t speak, Amaterasu had a surprising amount of insight, though even she couldn’t be sure where one of the missing team members went.

Eventually, people ran out of things to discuss and the meal came to an end. When the check came around, Band popped open his wallet with a groan. “That’ll just about be the last of my spendin’ money,” he remarked glumly.

“Low on money, eh?” Especially now that they’d now seen that most of the Seekers were broke, the twins speaking at the same time couldn’t be good news for anyone.

“With a city this big, there’s gotta be a casino!” Bart reasoned with gusto.

“Come with us, and you’ll see our granddad’s best inheritance in action,” Marg declared mysteriously.

Other than trudging back to Lab 8 for the night, Band didn’t really have anything planned, and it seemed like the twins would need a chaperone. “If they even let y’all in,” he muttered, heaving himself up onto his feet. “I gotta see this.”

Once the team got outside, a little consulting of random civilians confirmed the existence of a casino in Esaka’s high tier: the High Rollers’ Club. The twins wanted to head there right away, but as the Seekers sorted out whether or not they’d be accompanying the youngsters or doing something else, a familiar face showed up. It belonged to Anji Mito, the bespectacled and muscular Japanese gentleman who’d accompanied the team both during and after lunch. A couple of bandages revealed that he’d gotten the medical care that Yayama recommended, and he came bearing news.

“Good evening, everyone!” Anji began. “I wasn’t expecting to see all my new friends again today, but something came up. A matter of interest to Mr. Chevalier, trivial really, scarcely even a proper mission, but something he figured one or two of you might be perfect for.” Reaching into his sleeve, Anji drew out a paper receipt, just like the ones given to the Seekers after their meals at Chanko House Edomon. “When Mr. Chevalier learned you were eating here, he was curious enough to place a to-go order for himself. Unfortunately, the employee flying via Sumo Headbutt to our HQ seemed to have been struck by a stray Yoga Fire and dropped his parcel while soaring over Rugal’s Panther Zoo. Raven reported that the staff recovered the parcel, but he and Ms. Dolores had some matter to attend to together, so he was unable to retrieve the parcel himself.”

Anji failed to suppress a smile. “So if it’s no trouble, we would beseech any do-gooders among you to fetch the parcel for him. This is your chance to visit the United Nations Headquarters, and rest assured you won’t come away empty-handed.”

Once that was sorted out, the Bogard siblings, Big Band, and anyone else who wanted to join them could proceed another tier upward and the High Rollers’ Club.

♫

As one might expect of a casino in the well-to-do High Tier, the suitably named High Rollers’ Club had all the larger-than-life glitz and glamor that one would hope. Its spacious circular interior, with a high ceiling veiled in deep red cloth like a carnival’s big top and gold decor everywhere one could look, offered poker tables, roulettes, slot machines, and more. It also featured a large circular arena stylized like a giant, flat roulette wheel where duels could be conducted, which seemed to be par for the course for notable Esaka establishments.

The twins encountered no obstacle when they tried to enter, and the moment they set foot inside, Bart and Marg were grinning from ear to ear. As if this gamblers’ paradise of flashing lights and sounds were a fruitful orchard, ripe for the plundering. After entering, the two were (unsurprisingly) of one mind. Once they visited the counter to exchange their zenny for betting chips, they made for a roulette table chosen seemingly at random. Band followed, increasingly worried not about the twins’ finances, but that the devious kids seemed to know what they were doing. Well, win or lose, it seemed like he’d be in for a show. He or any other Seekers who’d joined him on this excursion could try their luck themselves, visit the in-house bar, or simply entertain themselves by observing all the colorful characters who patronized this place.

The Midnight Walk - Glacial Strata

Setting: Murky Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (3/100) Level 7 Heismay (42/70)
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: 1576

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 5/8 | 🛡️: 3/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Vegetubes/Icebox

Inside the shelter of the armored stagecoach, the situation identified by Edward looked rather bleak. If Sandalphon’s affliction was indeed the Petrification Disease, as it appeared to be, the malady had ingrained itself with fearsome speed, severity, and selectivity. Even if the archangel was the only Seeker so far to be visually sick, the sight of such alarming calcification would probably convince the team’s Dreadnought to recheck the team for any sign of infection. Edward was not yet privy to how the illness spread, after all, so Sandalphon could very well become -or already be- a disease vector herself–an alarming prospect, given her importance to the expedition and the Seekers’ campaign as a whole.

Right now, though, the priority was treatment. Blazermate, whose inorganic form feared no disease, affixed her Kritzkrieg’s medibeam on Sandalphon’s center mass. After quickly whirring to life, the machine hummed as it dutifully streamed blue vital energy into the archangel, its restorative power spreading throughout her body. Right away the cracks in her skin (mostly hidden beneath her clothes) began to close, knitting themselves shut until only the stains of blue-tinged blood remained. The medigun proved thorough and fast enough that there was no need for Ace’s potion, as generous as the monster hunter was to offer it. The good news ended there, however, as once the healing finished and the cleansing kicked in, neither the stony rash and bluish crystal scabs looked any better. This disease, it seemed, was not simply some statistical debuff that could be purified by the medabot’s Revive Protocol. Instead, it seemed to be more integral to her patient’s body.

A few moments after Blazermate gave up on her attempted dispellation, Edward’s theory about the cause of Sandalphon’s unconsciousness would prove correct as she began to stir. She flinched with furrowed brow and tightened face, her lips firmly pressed together, a moment later she tried to open her eyes. Only her right eye opened, however, as the petrification of her face’s left side seemed to have robbed it of muscle control and allowed it to mostly scab over. When she awoke and beheld the grim look on Edward’s face, Sandalphon carefully, gingerly lifted her gloved hand to her own to get a tentative feel for the dire situation herself. Pursing her lips, she inhaled sharply through her nose, then delivered her report in a strained, somewhat creaky voice.

“The Petrification Disease,” she confirmed. “Caused by Ergo exposure, according to my notes. It shouldn’t be directly contagious.” It should come as no surprise to the others by this point that she prioritized their own wellbeing over hers, but faced with such concerned, inquiring looks she would need to be more thorough about her own experience. “I feel stiff. Brittle. Every movement is more or less painful.” Summoning her gunstaff, she propped it against the stagecoach’s black steel floor and tried to stand up. The maladroit motion held none of her typical ergonomic grace and looked painful. Nevertheless, she stood without whimper or complaint and glanced at the two before looking toward the back door. “I briefly remember falling before I blacked out. What happened?”

Within a few moments, Sandalphon had received her brief summary of the bugs’ onslaught. Determined to see the situation for herself, she stepped out of the stagecoach and into the knee-high snow, the unparalyzed half of her face tense from the grainy jolts of pain in her sockets that accompanied each motion. The gigantic cavern was hauntingly beautiful, the ice-blue rock of its walls, pillars, and branchlike bridges bearing infinite crystalline facets that reflected the myriad lights of battle. It was also bitterly cold, untouched by the sun for eons, with only the natural heat of those vents to sustain life down here.

Evidently this icy subterranean realm was also the refuge of innumerable giant arthropods, who’d assaulted her fellow Seekers in droves and been slaughtered by the dozen. As she scanned the area, Sandalphon couldn’t help but instantly tally up the number of burned, blasted, and bisected corpses, many of which were still intact enough to twitch their bladed legs in ghastly fashion as they slowly turned to ash. There were still some bugs around, but the ravenous, territorial horde had been reduced to wary, prowling squads. Everyone had done an admirable job salvaging the situation and defending themselves, and Sandalphon was proud. “Good work, team. Is everyone accounted for?” While she had only one working eye, it was as sharp as ever, and one person still eluded her gaze: Heismay Noctule.

In his hour of need, however, Heismay had been rescued by Ramattra, who’d visually identified the special bulborb’s icy carapace and taken advantage of it through clever application of intense heat. The Puppet of the Future’s Welder was up to the task, and once the Omnic deftly destroyed the monster, he could free the Eugief trapped inside. Once thawed, Heismay shook himself off, shivering. “A flash-freeze on contact was not my expectation,” he admitted, annoyed that he’d been played for a fool by the bizarre creature. Nevertheless, he made sure to give Ramattra his gratitude before heading back toward the main group. “My thanks, friend.” Ramattra would then go on to uncover quite the rich supply cache, containing a dangerous-looking handheld railgun, several shiny golden medals, and a pair of chemical stimulants designed for injection.

Once everyone was accounted for, the main question on everyone’s mind was how to get out of here. Without the stagecoach, it would still have been difficult, but perhaps the team’s fliers could have airlifted the others back up out of the cavern and through the cave mouth they first entered through, two or three at a time. With the stagecoach, though, it seemed impossible, until Blazermate revealed something else she’d been up to. Her Engineer striker had been able to completely repair the drilldozer Heismay discovered on his exploratory solo run, so while it lacked the armor to take any serious punishment, it seemed ready and able to drill an escape route through the solid rock of the cavern wall. The dozer had no visible controls, but the repairs seemed to activate some sort of onboard intelligence housed within the rotatable head unit atop its. It couldn’t seemingly communicate in anything but unintelligible robotic warbles, but hopefully carving a path would be as simple as pressing the big red button on the back and letting the automaton do its thing.

Heismay looked around at the handful of Seekers who’d followed Blazermate over to see her latest project. “Anyone care to do the honors?”

Of course, as the one technically responsible for the drilldozer fix, Blazermate had every right to the fun of pressing the big red button.

With a loud, irritable grunt, the engine roared to life. Smoke belched from the machine’s pipes as its heavy treads propelled it forward, slow but steady. Heismay climbed atop it for a ride, although he found himself needing to grab on in order to not be shaken off by the drilldozer’s constant, jarring vibration. Once the dozer’s giant drill hit the wall, it bored through the blue rock like butter, carving a tunnel even bigger than the drilldozer itself. It was just tall enough to admit the stagecoach, so once Edward got the anxious but healthy shieldrix harnessed, he could drive them forward into the upward tunnel. Before long, the expedition was headed for the surface. Fortunately, despite its icy appearance, most of the terrain around here wasn’t nearly as slippery as it looked.

Unfortunately, the noise and vibration would soon begin to draw in the locals. In addition to squads of terminids and glyphids scuttling over to investigate the tunnel, additional groups could burrow out of the walls of the tunnel itself, popping up without warning to launch a surprise ambush. More surprises would confront the drilldozer team in the form of additional caves, much smaller but home to different points of interest and nests of alien wildlife. In one, a huge, angular outcropping of valuable pink-and-blue quartz formed the basis for a crustacean community of krabs and krawlers, wearing or encased in blocks of crystal. The older specimens, with automatic counterattacks and the ability to give attack-blocking quartz armor to their allies, would prove sturdy and stubborn enemies for anyone attempting to loot the effulgent Deep Focus charm. In another cave, luminscent blue fungi lit up the dark where morphean mushrooms prowled, their spore breath able to put even the most wakeful heroes to sleep. Especially if said heroes were distracted trying to nab magical buoyant blowfish, feathered gelatin, or watchdog daisies from around the subzero slush rivers for use in potioncrafting.

And even if the Seekers would rather leave these caves be, the drilldozer was a hungry beast of a machine, and it needed to be fed. Oil Shale would need to be extracted and flash-refined by the laser canisters on the dozer’s rear in order to keep it running, lest the bugs close in on either the stagecoach or its noisy escort.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Can i join?

@darkred

Hi there - I remember you. You joined the last thread for this RP as Aloy about five years ago, posted three times, and disappeared. You reappeared about a year later and asked if you could rejoin, and at that point I said this:

I wouldn't object, necessarily, but are you sure you'll be able to follow along and keep up? Generally we want to post once a week.

I don't recall your answer. I guess I'd want to ask this again, since while I don't want to demand too much from my players, I do ask for consistency. If the answer is yes, then the answer to your question is yes, too.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (233/150) Level 11 Big Band (140/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1082

At long last, Big Band had reached Gold Team’s chosen meetup spot for the evening of the first day of pools, alongside the weathered warrior Yayama Yama. The two found Pit and Sakura waiting outside, accompanied by Bowser Jr, Rika, and Therion, who’d all evidently made their way back to Esaka independently of the lalafell they’d braved the bamboo forest with. That wasn’t everyone on the Forbidden Kingdom contingent’s roster, far from it, but it was enough for the hostess to beckon everyone inside to be seated.

Grateful that there was no conventionally-sized doorway he needed to carefully wedge himself through to not cause damage, Band stepped inside, pushing through the hanging cloth gingerly. Once in he was greeted by the sight of a bustling, lively chanko restaurant, full of sumo iconography from the decked out walls to the elevated dohyō that dominated the floorplan’s center, complete with regulation-size ring of rice-straw bales fifteen feet in diameter atop a platform of hard-packed clay covered by sand. Sumo wrestling was completely foreign to Band, so he could only imagine what kind of combat went down in such an arena. With how close many of the tables were to this elaborate centerpiece, he had to hope that the sand didn’t get kicked up too easily.

That wasn’t the only problem presented by these tables, though. At first glance Band thought that they were simply situated very low to the ground, with mats to sit on rather than chairs, which would have been bad enough. On closer inspection, though, the gumshoe discerned that the tables were actually recessed into the floor, with the customers’ legroom technically underground. “Uh oh,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. Even if he folded in his legs and lowered his bell-shaped body all the way to the ground and sat there like a gigantic salt shaker, he’d loom so far above the table that his smaller mechanical arms might not be able to reach it, no matter how ridiculously huge the sizzling clay hotpots here were.

Ben Birdland wasn’t a complainer, though, and if the restaurant didn’t mind him being here he’d try to make it work. As it happened, Chanko House Edomon catered to huge men all the time, with some of the clientele so bulky that they couldn’t fit at their special tables either. After directing the Seekers to their extra-long table, the obliging hostess brought out a small table with a stool sturdy enough to support Big Band’s immense weight. Very grateful, the cyborg seated himself next to the others, close enough that he could still join in the conversation.

More Seekers, including those who’d spent most of the day fighting and those who’d undertaken the United Nation’s missions, arrived bit by bit. Heroes placed their orders, and one by one the bubbling hotpots of seafood, meat, and veggie stew arrived. There were a couple interesting additions to the group in the form of two teenagers, both golden-haired and impeccably dressed, who showed up alongside Captain Falcon. Anyone as observant as Big Band could tell at a glance that these were no ordinary kids thanks to the lack of Galeem’s sunset-red light in their eyes, which would’ve been especially apparent now that the real sunset had finished. The two Lost Numbers introduced themselves (in perfect sync, no less) as Bartholomew and Marguerite Bogard, a name instantly familiar to everyone here. In fact, they were the paternal grandchildren of a previous Terry, one who predated the one some Seekers met at Smash City Alcamoth by several cycles, and they'd braved the surface world in the hopes of meeting the newest incarnation of their forebear.

Unfortunately, it seemed like that would be easier said than done. Terry himself was curiously absent from the gathering, and neither of his King of Fighters teammates had the slightest idea where the Hungry Wolf had gone. Harry, Kim, and Zenkichi didn’t show up either, reducing the number of detectives on the team to one, and they also failed to answer Pit’s attempt to contact them.

These absences, and especially their radio silence, worried Band a great deal. The Seekers’ enemies had already tried to take them out once, and in spectacular fashion. Maybe when that didn’t work, G-Corp’s operatives (or worse, the agents of Moebius) had resorted to picking them off one by one. With them gone, and Juri still truant, Gold Team was down to seven active members. Roland might be the only finger the Seekers still had in the Tekken pie, and how they’d continue to compete in King of Fighters with only two fighters had become a burning question. Funnily enough, Ms Fortune of all people seemed to be the easiest lost member to find, as Captain Falcon reported seeing her before he picked up the twins. At least the heroes still had a strong presence in World Warrior and Mortal Kombat.

After all the tabulating and speculating, the main objective of tonight’s gathering was ultimately to provide a status update. When his turn came around, Band did his due diligence. “Fought four matches today,” he began clinically. “Rasputin, annoyin’ wizard type, two-zero. Rhajang, roided-out tiger, two-zero. Chel, peppy robot lady, two-one. Balrog, dirty boxer with a mean strike a mile wide, two-zero.” He let out a long sigh. “So, still in Winners’ side. I did get a couple new upgrades under my belt, but I’m beat. Gonna rest up and do the best I can tomorrow.”

Once his hotpot arrived, a far littler portion than the average sumo wrestler might consume, Band took a moment to savor the smell. Then he carefully manipulated one spindly mechanical arm to ladle stew into a smaller bowl held by another. It was a tasty, very hearty dish, nothing too special, but an excellent meal nonetheless. As he ate, Band idly watched the restaurant workers in Edomon’s delivery section while listening to the others’ reports. Sumo wrestlers all, they took their to-go parcels in insulated backpacks, then climbed up a flight up stairs to the restaurant’s second story, which consisted solely of an outdoor balcony. Then each wrestler launched himself off the balcony in a Sumo Headbutt, soaring through the air as straight as an arrow. It was a bizarre method, but if it worked, who was Band to argue? It took substantial effort for him to tear his attention away and fix it where it ought to be: on the words of his fellow Seekers.

Meanwhile, a certain someone kept tabs on the team from a nearby spot, not so close that she could spy on them or listen in, but close enough that she’d know when the Seekers of Light left. Nadia’s disguise wasn’t good enough that she could get any closer without being recognized, especially now that Falcon had identified her (with frustrating ease, as well). That made her particularly sad because the aromas wafting out of the restaurant were pretty incredible. The smell of chanko stew made Nadia hungry enough to reconsider her plan of finding some high-class eatery to splurge in later, but for once in her life the feral fought off the temptation. Instead Nadia tried to relax at a table outside a pub across the street, her furry tail flicking idly as she people-watched.

…Why was she doing this, again? It mostly just felt right. Why separate from the group and go into hiding to begin with, if not to watch mysteriously from afar? Plus, she wanted to see how the twins situation would develop. That could be interesting.

The Midnight Walk - Glacial Strata

Setting: Murky Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (39/70)
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: 1688

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 5/8 | 🛡️: 3/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Vegetubes/Icebox

Adrenaline inspired by the very real danger that now confronted the Seekers coursed through Heismay’s veins, banishing whatever bleariness the light sleeper might have felt at the conclusion of a fitful night’s rest. He’d stalled some of the glyphids for a moment by taking the fight to them, but the half-dozen kills he’d speedily racked up were but drops of water in a lake of skittering, screeching alien arachnids.

Completely disorganized and taken off guard by the sudden and terrifying fall, his allies were desperately trying to put together a defensive line so that the heroes could watch one another’s backs, to middling success. Heismay joined their efforts, putting his back to the damaged but mercifully intact stagecoach, but after a few frantic moments of nonstop combat the eugief was forced to rethink his strategy. His fighting style required a lot of room to maneuver, and against such a massive horde, there was nowhere to dodge or leap to where there wouldn’t be more bugs just waiting to sink their teeth in. Moreover, all his attacks and abilities were single-target, specialized for precise critical damage. He could dispatch a glyphid quickly, but not quickly enough to stem the tide washing over him if he stood his ground, and just swinging his blade in wide arcs practically guaranteed it’d get stuck in the carapace of a bulkier glyphid guard.

All this he figured out in mere moments, leading Heismay to make a necessary decision. “...Good luck!” He flipped onto the stagecoach, took his longsaber’s hilt in his mouth, then leaped into the air and stretched out his wings to glide over the hoard. Bugs clambered atop one another to snap at him, streams of frost billowed upward from frigid Praetorians, and salvos of corrosive acid shot down from a Glyphid Menace, but he nimbly swooped and swerved to avoid the attacks until he could land on a cryogenic bulb.

The strange plant wobbled beneath his weight, the pressure within its bulb palpable through its strained skin. A number of glyphids quickly turned to pursue him, but for a moment Heismay got a chance to look back toward where most of his allies were making their stand. The first and most encouraging thing he noticed was that the tide of glyphids wasn’t as infinite as it first looked; their numbers were great, but they did not blanket every inch of the cave’s snowy floor and walls. Instead reinforcements streamed in from a few specific directions, so the horde would thin out sooner or later as long as everyone kept fighting, and especially if those routes could be sealed off as Ramattra guessed.

As for the others, it looked like they were managing. Those who relied on powers, like Mokou and Sectonia, needed little preparation to begin raining destruction on the team’s insectoid assailants. Others collected themselves and fought back admirably, trying to control the chaos with their weaponry. Once the Seekers established a perimeter, the main threats would probably be the special bugs wielding more dangerous abilities. In the middle of the mess lay the stagecoach, still in one piece despite taking some damage from the fall thanks to its massive weight. The exterior furnishings, like the lightning rods, windchime, and lamps, were all destroyed, and the dangling cage had been busted open, allowing the ratshaker rat to run free and scream to his little heart’s content.

Of course, thanks to his tactical reposition, Heismay was on his own right now. When a couple dozen glyphids and two Praetorians converged on his frost bulb, this became a reality he could no longer ignore. Heismay figured he could trust the others to pull through while he saved his own skin. As bugs surrounded him, the eugief leaped into the air again. “Very well then.” In midair he transformed, becoming his Gunner archetype. “Have at you!”

He fired a well-aimed shot downward at the bulb, popping it like an override tomato. In an instant the cryogenic gas within surged outward, flash-freezing the mob of glyphids. “Aha!” Quickly reverting, Heismay spread his wings again and glided toward a Praetorian. It spread its fanged maw wide and let loose a torrent of icy gas, but it couldn’t crane its head high enough to keep up as the hermit flew closer, then descended in the form of the Assassin to stomp on the monster from above. His curved greatsword failed to fully penetrate the armor atop its luminous abdomen, but as the Praetorian roared in pain with its legs splayed out by the impact, he gripped the chitin plating with one metal hand and methodically peeled it. A moment later he could shove in his blade and use his archetype’s weight as the leverage needed to lop the big bug in half.

Freezing fumes began to spill out of its body, but Heismay was on the move. He smashed through frozen glyphid grunts as he circled around the other Praetorian, only mostly outpacing its frost spray. Unfrozen glyphids harried him on the way, including a slasher that scored a nasty hit on Heismay’s right thigh, but they were few enough in number that he could fight them off or even springboard off their backs. Unfortunately this Praetorian kept turning to protect its backside, so Heismay had a harder time. Relying on the cold to numb his wound, he settled for slicing at the creature’s unarmored leg joints. One severed leg at a time he reduced the Praetorian’s movement until he could hack away at its weak spot as he pleased, with plenty of time to deal with any grunts that scuttled up for a sucker punch.

After mortally wounding the second Praetorian, Heismay kept moving to keep one step ahead of the horde. Though the bugs were mostly focused on his comrades, they’d quickly get wise to the flanker’s act if he fought in any one spot for too long. Quick on his feet, and leery of facing too many foes at once, Heismay made sure that didn’t happen. When he happened to sneak a peak back at the main force of Seekers, they seemed to be doing well, just as he assumed they would. Many commanded terrifying destructive abilities, enough that their main challenge wasn’t so much annihilating their enemies as not hitting their allies. It seemed like the biggest danger, that being the bugs’ initial assault, had passed. Still, anyone who got too complacent could easily get gunked up by a Mactera Frost Bomber, severed by a Terminid Hunter, or worse.

In skirting around the edges of the conflict, the sharp-eyed Heismay both tried to get a sense of the huge cavern’s layout and also hopefully find a means of egress. More often he found side tunnels just big enough to admit more bugs, and lacking any way to close them, he gave them a wide berth. Stragglers he could dispatch easily, but nobody needed more hordes of these things. Both of the main breeds of bugs infesting this place seemed to be strong diggers, leading him to wonder if the expedition had been undermined while they spent the night in that cave.

Heismay found more interesting things during his round trip than digging bugs, though. In a dark recess of the massive cavern, he spotted a strange figure lurking in a makeshift camp. At first he thought it was a human, and he almost called out to him, but when he caught a better glimpse of its face in the golden glow of the greatsword in its hand, his hails froze in his throat. It bore a monstrous, almost leonine face, a mane of wild red hair, and a withered, wiry body naked but for tufts of similar fur. Most oddly, two rudimentary and vestigial wings protruded from its waist, much too small for flight. Though that sword in its grasp glimmered with the tantalizing allure of a legendary artifact, Heismay held his tongue and resolved to return with more allies, if the opportunity arose.

He also found a weird structure that didn’t seem to belong here at all: a concrete bunker with strips of weathered yellow paint, built into the floor with a dug-out depression to provide access. Once Heismay sliced up the terminids loitering in the area, curiosity compelled him to troop down and push the button on one side of the heavy metal door, but after a couple seconds it blinked red. So did another button obscured by ice on the opposite side, which suggested to him that both would need to be pressed together. Unfortunately, he had no way to melt or break through the ice in the way, so this was also something that would need at least one more warm body.

Finally, Heismay stumbled upon some heavy-duty machinery with tank treads and an enormous drill, the serious damage visible all across its frame courtesy of the pests that called this place home. The eugief hadn’t a clue about how to make it work, let alone operate it, but that drill on the front looked like it could make mincemeat of bugs and solid rock alike. The only problem was the Frosty Bulborb in the area, a creature that would have looked comical if not for its imposing size. All monsters had a weakness, though, and the bulborb’s impressive bulk seemed to be held up by rather spindly legs. If he could sever one or both, or at least some important muscles, Heismay reasoned he could gain the upper hand.

When he moved to enact his plan with a surprise attack, though, Heismay ran into an immediate problem. The Mudo he flung as the Assassin did its job of catching the beast off-guard, but when he ran in for a deep cut, the mere act of touching the bulborb froze Heismay solid. Oh no, he would have said, if he could move his mouth. Without a moment’s delay, the bulborb reached down to grab the frozen treat and swallow him whole.

Meanwhile, the Seekers were making their own discoveries. For one, once the horde thinned a good bit, Layton happened to run into a strange, present-shaped ice cube sitting in the snow, with a real present (complete with white wrapping paper and red bow) frozen inside. In the powder beside it lay a little card, and when opened the professor could read a mischievous gift-giver’s birthday wishes, alongside the hint that five one hundred and fifty milliliter cups of hot water could be used to melt thirty grams of ice. Someone as astute as the professor could eyeball that the ice block weighed about two kilograms, so if he had the time to spare from bug-wrangling, it was up to Layton to determine how best to thaw out the glacial gift.

What Mokou discovered, though, was a lot less pleasant. When she opened Sandalphon’s sleeping bag she found the Seekers’ leader crusted over with some kind of stony growth, studded with crystals reminiscent of low-quality lapis lazuli. This was no mere coating, either, as experimentation would prove that it seemed to be part of her body. Since there was nothing but soft snow that could have struck her head to render her unconscious on impact, this affliction probably had something to do with her state. It seemed likely she’d need some sort of treatment before she could regain her senses.

An Idiot's Dungeon Union

Schnupfen wasn't undead, not technically, since he had never once been truly alive and had entered this world in his current, morbid state. Did that stop him from nearly having a heart attack when the post-clobber paladin rounded on him for a righteous, wrathful cast of Turn Undead? Not one bit. The shadow let out a deeply unflattering noise somewhere between a scream and a gurgle as he preemptively splattered himself against the ceiling, as two-dimensional as if some divine being had smote Schnupfen with a giant fly swatter.

Fortunately, no obliteration came to pass. Schnupfen was too busy being paralyzed by terror to observe exactly how the paladin died, but when he finally came to his senses and his bulging eyes beheld the adventurer's limp corpse, he let out a sigh of relief and dripped down from the ceiling like melted butter. A weary look around through half a dozen half-lidded peepers confirmed no signs of life from the invading force, so it looked like the dungeon keepers had successfully defended their home yet again.

Of course, Schnupfen could only be so happy about that.

"That was too close," he muttered breathlessly with a rueful shake of his head, his massive nose flipping from side to side like a boat's rudder. After what happened the first time the dungeon received an uninvited guest, he'd practically obsessed over making the place better prepared for the next invasion, only for the next marauders to scale up even more. And to think they were still little more than kids playing hero, equipped with meager arms, armor, and intellects. What would happen if actual adventurers showed up? Schnupfen and the others needed to get ahead of the curve...but how? "Got to do better," the shadow told himself, wandering around the dungeon. "Got to do better..."

He wound up in the vicinity of his beloved pitfall trap, where Kleine loitered around the empty treasure chest. He bristled when the spirit looked his way, paranoid (and guilty) enough to imagine all the accusations she might levy his way before she could say a word. "It's not my fault they showed up right in the middle of preparations!" he whined. "Now that they know we've got trapped chests, it'll be that much harder to fool those fools again...curse those cheaters' profane revival arts, allowing them to live and learn from fatal mistakes!" The paint hadn't even dried on the dungeon keepers' current setup, and they would now have to reorganize everything in order to keep getting kills.

Schnupfen glance over his shoulder, back toward the dungeon heart. After their win, the defenders ought to be able to summon again. They needed some new toys to play with, and perhaps more than anything, some means of production to keep the dungeon expanding in between raids.

World of Light: the Endless Now (The Ultimate Videogame Crossover)

Esaka, the Tiered City

Setting: Clear Thursday Evening
Lvl 15 Ms Fortune (233/150) Level 11 Big Band (138/110)
Amaterasu’s @DracoLunaris Roland’s @Archmage MC Pit’s @Yankee Sakura & Juri’s @Zoey Boey Captain Falcon’s @Double Harry and Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Yayama’s @Chevaleresse Grima’s @Goggy
Word Count: 1172 / 1069

On the surface, finding Terry sounded like a fairly simple task, but there were a few factors at play that complicated things for Nadia and her two newest friends. For one, the feral didn’t really want to find any Seeker right now, except maybe Primrose, and Terry was at the top of her avoid list. It wasn’t because she couldn’t handle confrontation, or that the Hungry Wolf had been wrong to call her when he’d learned of her less-than-legal activities; in fact, it was probably because he’d been right. She’d made a serious mistake, maybe gotten people killed, and there was no surer reminder of her screw-up than seeing the face of her foremost accuser.

In a way, meeting his estranged grandkids was a stroke of bad luck, although Nadia wasn’t about to resent them. She didn’t even really resent Terry, even if the big doofus did make himself an easy target. She just resented her own impetuous idiocy, and her stubborn commitment to the bit that defined herself as a happy-go-lucky thief, even if Nadia wasn’t introspective enough to realize that. That she’d learned nothing from the mistake that cost the Fishbone Gang their lives. It was that very toxic thought that lingered just in her periphery, ever-so-slightly visible in the blind spot of her mind, that brought her the closest to despair this morning. If Nadia Fortune was going to continue functioning, as usual, a smile on her face as she reached out to seize victory within her grasp, she needed to fix her gaze straight ahead, and spare no second glance into those dreadful blind spots.

Despite Nadia’s efforts to distract Bart and Marg with a colorful tour of Esaka’s Low Tier, it didn’t take long at all for the charismatic twins, who applied their shtick to every knowledgeable-looking passer-by with the aggression of door-to-door salesmen, to dig up some information on their forebear. For better or worse, Terry Bogard was a name just about everyone knew. The controversial celebrity was to some a washed-up has-been, to others an industry plant thrust into undeserved relevance by outside interference, and to still others a beloved classic. Terry could be a hundred things to a hundred people, and opinion was even divided on which dojo he belonged to. Some claimed his allegiance lay with King of Fighters, Fighting EX Layer, or one of several lesser-known wolf-related dojos, but for the most part it sounded like the man could be found where his story began: Fatal Fury.

Getting there involved a trip up from the Low Tier through the Pools (now vacant except for fighters training, loitering yokai, and a few sightseers) and into the Middle Tier, and there the hunt began for the Fatal Fury dojo. Now that they had a destination in mind, the twins moved quickly, so Nadia played along. With her natural agility she had no trouble keeping up with the two and just as her trip toward Esaka along with Junior and Rika did yesterday morning, the trip quickly turned into a race through the city streets. Kids will be kids, Nadia figured. Maybe it wasn’t exactly normal for a grown woman like her to be spending time with children so often, but it helped her sustain her own youthful energy and paw-sitive outlook. Unlike last time, though, she pulled back as the three got closer to where their destination ought to be, allowing the twins to decide victory among themselves while she hung back to avoid being discovered. Her ‘disguise’, if she could even call it that, was far from foolproof, after all, and if Terry was nearby, his teammates for the King of Fighters tournament might be here too.

Now in a more run-down part of the Middle Tier, Bart and Marg cut through a couple buildings and reached the scrapyard that neighbored the Fatal Fury at exactly the same time, neck-and-neck as they dashed through the final stretch toward the dojo. Around them, large pieces of old junk and rejected materials lay piled around rusted steel beams, with heavy machinery like excavators rising from the heaps of raw metal and wood with clawed arms like the necks of serpentine leviathans. Thanks to the motorcar massacre perpetuated yesterday by team Seekers of Fight, there were plenty of new auto wrecks in the scrapyard as well, and a couple of fighters interested in them.

In fact, the well-dressed twins were so focused on their race that they didn’t notice one man in front of them until they vaulted over the husk of a SWAT van and bounced off the absurdly massive trapezius muscles of a hulking eight-foot giant with a maple leaf flat-top and biceps so gargantuan that tires fit snugly around them. Bart and Marg hit the ground in front of this behemoth, skidded to a stop in the dust, and half-turned around, alarmed by his appearance. For a brief moment, Abigail just stared at them, his mouth agape. Then he let out the last noise that either of them expected.

“VuvuvuvuvuvuvuVROOOOOOOOM!”

He stumbled forward, pantomiming a steering wheel between his hands, veering left and right before finalizing a straight path toward the twins who stood frozen in bafflement. He stomped on an imaginary brake pedal right in front of them, went, “BRRRRRRRRRT!” and reached out to snatch them with mitts bigger than either of their heads. “Abi-GAIL!” The twins dodged backward just in time. As they slid to a stop their faces turned from terror into determination as each clasped a hand around his or her golden watch.

Behind Abigail, Nadia leaped up onto the roof of the SWAT van, her keen senses already attuned to danger. “What’s all this shout- HOLY SHIT THAT GUY’S HUGE!”

She stood with eyes wide as saucers, shaking her head to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but after several blinks the brute was still there, back and bigger than ever. Nadia raised her hand and sharpened her claws. “Purr-haps you guys need a little hand?”

Bart and Marg grinned at her. “This is the city of fighters, isn’t it?” the former asked.

“As newbies, it’s up to us to prove ourselves!” the latter declared. She turned her watch’s dial, then spread her arms, expanding a bubble of amber energy that formed a dodecahedron shield around her and Bart. The next second, her brother followed suit with his own Fortified Wager, doubling their shields. Behind them shimmered the image of casino tokens piled high, although to Nadia they looked like giant golden coins. “And as always, we think big!”

With an ugly smile Abigail flexed his enormous arms, straining his tire accessories almost to the point of bursting. Eyebrows raised at the twins’ confidence, Nadia crossed her arms and stood by to watch. Most Lost Numbers shrank from battle, fighting only when absolutely necessary, yet these kids were ready to risk their lives for nothing. Just what were they trying to prove? The feral couldn’t help but be curious. “If ya say so, go ahead…car-umple him!”

---

It took a little help from Ileum, but Band eventually made his way up to the Middle Tier from the Pools, where he parked his heavy chassis on a sturdy stone bench near the precipice. He’d managed to deliver a spectacular and decisive beatdown to that braggart Balrog, then put on a brave face for the crowd, but after that last duel the detective was well and truly done for the day. There was no gas left in his tanks, and even if Balrog hadn’t been that close to victory in either round, those last few dirty blows he’d hammered Band with had done a real number on him. The blood loss from his nose alone was enough to leave him light-headed, which was easier than one might suspect since what remained of his real body didn’t have all that much blood. Most of him ran on B♭, an experimental oil mixture. His iron lung still had plenty of that, for all the good it did him; if nothing else, Balrog had figured out just where to hurt him.

Band spent a while sitting there, just resting as he took in the marvelous vista before him. Now that evening was in full swing, the setting sun glittered off the water of the Pools, and the Low Tier below it bustled with activity. A thousand woks sizzled with seed oils as sweatband-clad cooks stir-fried vegetables, meat, and rice, and noodlemasters prepared miso, soy, and pork bone broth for savory ramen noodles. As they awaited their orders or paused between sips of sake and beer, restaurant customers excitedly discussed the day’s standings. By now, all the competitors’ results from their Pools matches today had been thoroughly tabulated. Most of Esaka’s fighters had already drowned in pools, most figuratively, though the Mortal Kombat qualifiers had indeed claimed a number of lives already. Just another day in Esaka.

He almost didn’t notice when Ileum returned, her footfalls naturally soft. In one hand she carried a medical kit, and by the time Band turned to face her, she’d already popped it open. “Thanks, Ileum,” he told her with a smile of resignation. Before she left he’d insisted that Stanley or Coyle could pound out the dents Balrog left in him back at base, but Ileum insisted on tending to his human parts. He tried not to flinch as she dabbed at his bruised, lacerated, and bloody face with some medicine-soaked pads. Even after all this time, that kind of solution still stung.

It was easy to imagine that only a kind personality and sense of motherly duty motivated Ileum, but it tempted Band to read more into her actions, especially after that good-luck kiss. On one hand, he couldn’t deny that it made for a good narrative. The two most veteran agents of ASG Lab 8, the de facto ‘mom and dad’ of all the little ones, unlucky in love all their lives, rejected by society and modified beyond recognition but united in common cause, together again at last. On the other hand, how could anything come of this? A sentient pile of guts in a see-through, woman-shaped sleeve and a cyborg quadriplegic in a mobile iron lung, torn between loyalties to found family and greater good, to say nothing of Galeem and the Life Service.

Band stared at Ileum’s mask as she tended him, unable to see her gaze or expression. Maybe she also realized just how futile this was. But both of them were mature enough to see past the melodrama and realize that all bonds eventually got ground to dust beneath the wheel of time, and that in spite of the futility, even the smallest, most impermanent fragment of warmth was worth holding on to. This soothing sunset was a stolen moment, seized by two unusual people from the relentless river of life, and it was theirs to keep in the vault called memory..

If Big Band was more creative, he figured that this would be something worth writing a song about. Then again, plaintive moments like these were probably popular subject matter in the Blues genre, so his saxophone would have no shortage of songs.

He had no idea how long it was before Ileum finally leaned back and asked, “How are you feeling?”

Band swallowed and put on a smile. “Better.”

With a satisfied nod, Ileum adopted a more relaxed sitting position on the bench beside him. “Good. What’s next?”

“Sorry, but I’ve got to get in touch with my team,” the detective told her with a sigh. “It’s been a busy day, and after what happened last night, keepin’ up with everyone’s more important than ever.”

Although Ileum seemed to have a subtle air of disappointment around her, she gave an understanding nod. “Alright. I’d better get back to Lab 8 and the littles. It isn’t easy with this body, but I’ve been getting better and better at cooking. Tonight is a macaroni casserole. The kids love it.”

“Mm-mm. Kids got me jealous,” Band joked.

Ileum tilted her head. “Where are you staying?”

Good question, the detective thought. The ruins he’d inhabited last night hadn’t exactly been comfortable, or safe for that matter. Fortunately, a better option had already presented itself. “Lab 8, if I can. Don’t got a whole lotta options.”

“I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say you’re more than welcome,” Ileum told him.

“Right on.” Band couldn’t imagine any of his old compatriots objecting, although the thought of sleeping somewhere Coyle had access to did not spark joy. With a groan, the detective got to his feet, and Ileum rose alongside him. “See ya soon then, Il. Save me a li’l casserole, will ya?”

The medic waved at him as she sauntered away. “I’ll try.”

Band turned and gazed out across the Forbidden Kingdom for a few moments, heaved a sigh, then activated his linkpearl. “Hey, y’all. It’s gettin’ to be time for another all-hands check-in. Sound good, Pit?” He had no reason to think that Gold Team’s captain would disagree. “Anywhere sound like a good place to meet up? Keepin’ it low-key in the Low Tier seems smart, but I’d advise against frequentin’ Pao Pao too often.” He kept the line open as he stared off into the distance, ready to note down who picked up his collect call.

Esaka - Infinite-Tea

Roland’s @Archmage MC Captain Falcon’s @Double Kim’s @Eviledd1984 Grima’s @Goggy

Just after Dragunov made his implicit threat, the interior of the Infinite-tea beverage shop began to fill up with non-customers following in Grima’s footsteps. A third person showed up at Chloe’s table as another newcomer lurked nearby, only increasing the undercover pop star’s anxiety as she learned that whoever these people were, they did not act with discretion. Then again, could she really assume that they were all on the same side? Kim’s manner was completely different compared to Grima’s, by-the-book and reassuring rather than sly and unnerving, and the two gave no sign of familiarity. This could be a good cop, bad cop routine, or maybe Chloe just had the worst luck out of anyone in Esaka. With Dragunov staring her down, it was hard to think otherwise.

The cold-hearted Russian’s behavior certainly got Grima’s blood boiling, though. He did not flinch, scarcely even blinking, when the vessel offered him scathing derision, as if he were made of stone rather than flesh and blood. Grima rose with her malicious intent for the icy man clear as day, drawing worried looks from all directions. Dragunov said nothing, but after a tense moment turned and strode toward the door. Once outside, he stood with his back facing Grima, as if daring her to try and deal him an underhanded strike from behind. Even if no words passed his lips, his subtle ready stance said give me your worst.

Inside, Chloe appeared relieved to have both Grima and Dragunov away from her, though that didn’t mean she trusted Kim. More than anything, she was worried that her cover had been blown by the scene the others nearly caused, and she seemed eager to slip out of the store and beat a hasty retreat toward the comfort of her security team. “That guy’s seriously scary,” she confided to Kim, unable to restrain her nervous energy. “I’ve never heard him say a word. All I know is he works for G-Corp.” She fidgeted in her seat, ready to hurry out the moment the coast looked clear.

The Midnight Walk - Cave of the Forlorn

Setting: Murky Friday Morning
Lvl 10 Sandalphon (4/100) Level 7 Heismay (36/70)
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: 1073

Nameless Stagecoach
𖥞: 8/8 | 🛡️: 6/8 | ◆◆◆◆ | Equipment: Stewpot/Windchime/Lamps/Vegetubes/Lightning Rod/Icebox | Companion: Ratshaker Rat

While most members of the expedition put in a good effort to make the cave more habitable, including campfires, tents, sleeping bags, automatic defenses, and so forth, it was still an ice-cold cave at the end of the day. Unsurprisingly, few slept very well. Heismay in particular fared poorly since he could not effectively deaden the noise that the echo-prone cave walls amplified, although an ample serving of the wine recovered by Edward with Ramattra’s key helped suppress the stress he’d accrued from his last fight. He was pretty used to sleeping poorly at this point in his life, but it still wasn’t very pleasant. At the very least, neither he nor the others went to bed hungry. The grand feast back at the Christmas Village had satisfied most everyone, and if someone did still end up needing a midnight snack, rations, foraged produce, and leftover foodstuffs were plentiful enough in the stagecoach’s ice box that hunger was the least of the Seekers’ concerns.

Of course, being inside the cave still turned out to be vastly preferable to being outside. Without any sunlight to bring up the ambient temperature for many days now, the temperature continued to fall outside, made all the worse by biting, howling winds. Fortunately the outside world didn’t have much more in store for the cave inhabitants than that. Though Blazermate’s sentry turret did beep a couple times during the wintry night when it detected some creature or another moving out in the gulch, it never opened fire at any enemies attempting to assault the Seekers in their sleep. That meant that everyone could do their best to tune out the frigid gale outside, as well as the subtle vibrations and shifting sounds from the ground beneath them, and try their best to sleep through the night.

Until about five in the morning, that is. At a certain point, the subtle sounds and shifts in the cave floor ramped up to a point where they could no longer be ignored. The ground was shaking; the rock was rumbling. Those disturbed to wakefulness but the tremor, like Heismay, quickly moved to alert the others, but the situation deteriorated with shocking speed. Cracks opened in the earth, spreading and forking like lightning, and in a cacophony of yells and shattering earth the cave began to collapse.

Those unable to fly and catch themselves plummeted down through a huge cavern with walls of icy blue rock in a deluge of rock and stone. They hurtled past amazing naturally-formed bridges, stalactites the size of trees, and luminescent formations of red crystal sugar to land in soft, downy drifts of incredibly deep snow. Heismay managed to spread his wings and glide out of the rubble shower about halfway down, which gave him ample time to gape in horrified wonderment at the sheer size of the frozen hollow into which everyone had tumbled. When he saw other Seekers go splat into the snow, he feared the worst, but the sight of their heads poking up through the powder a few seconds later meant he could breathe a sigh of relief. Heismay steered himself down toward where most of the heroes had fallen and landed gently atop a rock, next to a spiky bulb that might have been some alien plant. “Is everyone alive?”

Miraculously, everyone seemed to be more or less unharmed, thanks to the thick blanket of snow. Just how many eons had it accumulated there, perfectly undisturbed, only to save a handful of lives now? It was too late for Heismay to thank his lucky stars, though. Once his heart stopped pounding so much, his keen ears could hear the hair-raising skitter of countless legs. When he turned his eyes toward the walls and vaulted ceiling of the immense cavern, the sight of hundreds of monstrous shapes marching down toward the fallen Seekers in droves left him aghast. Most he couldn’t make out clearly, but he could see a number of larger, lighter-colored bugs within the swarm, their bulbous abdomens aglow with cryogenic chemicals. Whatever they were, they were coming, and it would be long before even more dangerous specimens reared their ugly heads to fire volleys of corrosive slime from afar.

“Make ready for battle!” Heismay yelled as he shook off the last vestiges of sleep, his voice echoing through the cave. He looked around wildly at the others, trying to get a sense of who was ready to fight and their combat positions. In so doing, he spotted the wreckage of what had to be Sandalphon’s tent, with her sleeping bag visible, half-buried in the snow and only identifiable thanks to the halo floating overhead. With no signs of her struggling inside the bag, he wondered if the archangel had been knocked out by the fall.

Right now, the Seekers were in disarray, but there were a couple spots around the cavern where heat seemed to well up from underground vents, surrounded by lush burgundy vegetation. On the other hand, there were a few vents belting out ice-cold air as well, which would make fighting in their vicinity a lot harder. Blade in hand, Heismay turned to face the incoming tide of glyphids, hoping that their numbers meant they were individually weak. “We fight for our lives! Raaaaaaah!” the eugief roared.

A few seconds later, the horde was upon them. Heismay leaped forward, springboarding off the first glyphid in order to descend on one behind it with an inverted sword plunge through its middle. He yanked it out messily, killing the thing, then swept around to chop off another grunt’s leg and head with a one-two slash. Another tried to slash him with its leg from behind, only for its limb to glance off his sword, held behind him in a back-facing block. A quick spin kick to the maw knocked the glyphid aside, allowing Heismay to finish it with a neat decapitation. Finally, as more bugs closed in, he vaulted backward and executed a downward crescent slash mid-spin to slice apart the glyphid he’d bounced off in the first place. As he landed, a Frost Praetorian shouldered its kindred aside to lumber toward him. Heismay took a deep breath and readied himself for more.