MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Kitchen

Lvl 7 (86/70) -> Lvl 8 (87/70)

Word Count: 245 words

Geralt had, somehow, missed the two adversarial chef-mages approaching the group via the stairs. That "somehow" was actually incredibly obvious to anybody closely watching the Witcher, as his condition was rapidly deteriorating without adrenaline keeping him moving. That he hadn't noticed their attackers was to be expected, rather than a surprise. He could beat himself up about it later, though, as he tried to stalk towards the Tempura Chefs menacingly, brandishing his nail.

Geralt managed to stagger their way as if drunk. Bella was in trouble. They'd just helped her, but she was in trouble. Blinking the stars out of his vision, Geralt raised his weapon and his hand, aiming for one of the Tempura Wizards. It took a moment to steady himself, but after that moment came and went Geralt threw his weapon with all his might.

Given that it managed to "soar" about two feet before crashing to the ground, that wasn't much. As he released it, however, Geralt also began to fall, his knees buckling and his throwing arm curling to help absorb the impact along his forearm in addition to his knees. One didn't get to his age without learning how to take care of those damned things, after all.

The stars in his vision were replaced by a slowly-encroaching darkness that consumed his sight, and as his consciousness faded, Geralt let out a soft "Hmmm" of contemplation. And a moment later, a thud marked his head plopping onto the ground.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Kitchen

Lvl 7 (85/70) -> Lvl 8 (86/70)

Word Count: 693 words

As the door exploded and their distraction was solidified, Geralt moved to attack alongside Mirage and Link, while Bella unleashed the monster that lie dormant within her. In truth, Geralt was reminded of some of the particular nasty brands of necrophage, that would just as readily eat living flesh as deceased. He was too used to such things to really be disturbed by such brutality, but it was just a little uneasy seeing an ally tearing into a living man (little as this monster resembled a man in character) and feeding. Ironic, considering his friendship with Regis, a vampire, but the man had made a pact with himself not to drink, so it wasn't quite a perfect comparison.

It was with great satisfaction that Geralt drove his nail directly through Larry's Achilles Tendon, expertly severing the vital tissue with a single blow. For added suffering, he gave the weapon a jerk to the side, tearing through more muscle, before removing it as the lummox fell to the ground with a crash.

Seeing Bella's tail release its grip and fire a slug from its powerful railgun down the bastard's throat, Geralt half-turned towards their recently-arrived compatriots, only to pause when he saw that Larry hadn't yet dissolved into Ash and a Spirit.

Something in Bella had apparently snapped, as she went right back to chewing into Larry's hideous body. Link took the opportunity to climb up Larry's head, using the butcher's own knife as a handhold by driving it into his eye as he scrambled up, trying to get through to Bella's newfound humanity with a plea to get a hold of her higher thought processes and stop the brutality.

Geralt took a different approach. If stabbing in the eye, and being bitten and shot in the neck didn't work, perhaps a more...direct solution would. He calmly approached Larry's throat, bloody and torn to shreds as it was, and raised his needle as the butcher ineffectually flailed his arms around. A moment to recall human anatomy. A moment to mentally transfer his model over his vision. And a third moment to drive his nail down, directly through the gap between the C2 and C3 vertebrae on a normal human.

With a brutal jerk to the side, Geralt tore through the butcher's spinal column, aiming to shred the vital tissue and finish Larry off. It would both serve as revenge for what he'd done, a warning to the other kitchen staff that this fight was not one worth starting, and it also served to solve the immediate problem of Bella's bloodlust.

Speaking of which, Geralt had only just noticed Mirage backing away from Larry's bloody body while violently striking himself with his own weapon, as if trying to focus. After a moment, however, it seemed to pass and he turned his focus to getting the fire put out and rescuing the girls still dangling like meat.

Thankfully, Bowser, Junior, and Kamek were on the scene, with a few minions in tow as well. As bombastic as the boss was, he really did have a way with getting people to follow him. A natural charisma that, paired with his half-bumbling nature, made it hard to really hold anything against the guy, even when his half-cocked plans ended up backfiring in some way almost as often as not.

The new arrivals on the scene made quick work of the flames, helping the girls down as well, but Geralt was watching the commotion downstairs, not trusting that they'd be so easily ignored. The nail was still in his hand, but anybody watching could tell that Geralt was flagging. His normal posture was much more slack, the ready tension he usually carried was replaced with tight muscles desperately trying not to loosen lest they fail once they did.

He couldn't do this much longer, at all. The fact that he'd made it this far was a damned miracle, but with the adrenaline and the anger passing from him, the Witcher was now keenly aware that he was at the very end of his rope, and that he could not put it off any longer than he had already.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

Guitar in hand, Nick nodded at Dakota's warning to not stay too close together, to avoid AoE attacks. Frankly, putting this stuff into terms he was familiar with was one of the few things tethering him to what was left of his sanity at this point. Yes, 'Don't stand close or it'll hit you all with the wings' made sense, but his instincts were geared towards video games, not actual real-life combat. Anything that could streamline the mental process was welcome.

Separating from Dakota a bit, Nick was somewhat surprised to see him arguing with the monster in front of them. It did kind of make sense, as this thing was putting him on blast for the world to see, but at the same time, this wasn't a video game or DnD. Talking was not a free action in real life, and Nick took advantage of that. While they argued about spite, and how their friends apparently fucked them over in the past, Nick circled around the thing and carefully avoided its talon sweeping along the stage. It was, to put it in a word, absolutely terrifying to deal with.

Dakota, on the other hand, must have been experiencing pants-shitting terror. He was barely dodging the thing's frenzied attacks, one even clipping him and knocking him down. It was as the two argued once more after that close call that Nick moved in, reaching the thing's leg just in time to hear Dakota's witty one-liner as he stabbed the thing in the eye with a microphone stand. Fighting back a reflexive cringe, Nick and swung his guitar once, twice and its leg joint before noticing the obvious weak point on its chest, bleeding out some disgusting black substance. Not one to miss the chance to end a fight early, Nick shifted his grip on the guitar and swung it upwards, not unlike one would a golf club, directly into that spot on its chest.

While Dakota pulled his own weapon out of the thing's skull, Nick was backing away from its tantrum, though not quickly enough. Barely managing to lift the guitar in time as a makeshift shield, Nick was flung backwards by a swinging wing, and though he wasn't seriously harmed thanks to only having been clipped by a section of the wing while it focused on Dakota, Nick's guitar was broken at the neck.

Standing up with a groan, Nick paled when he saw Dakota being slowly but surely cornered by the thing. Vincent's arrival during the Gryffon's freakout was fortuitous, but his lasso plan wouldn't go very far without a way to get that thing back towards the stage. Unsure of what to do, Nick ran over to Vincent and looked at the jury-rigged pulley-lasso-thing he'd made. "Need a hand?" He offered, admittedly lamely. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he wasn't quite ready to just go and start throwing hands at the thing. That would probably just get him killed anyway.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Depths

Lvl 7 (84/70) -> Lvl 8 (85/70)

Word Count: words

That climb was exhausting. By the end of it, Geralt's breath was coming heavily, though he did his damndest to regulate his breathing so that it was smooth and quiet rather than ragged and loud like many others'. It wasn't a perfect effort by any means, owing to the aforementioned exhaustion, but Geralt was used to exerting himself. Even if his stamina was lower, the techniques still worked.

The smell of the 'meats' admittedly distracted him for a moment as he wrinkled his nose and tried not to gag at the odor. What that meant was that Geralt could not see Bella go from animated and talkative one moment, to faux-unconscious the next, and when he followed Mirage's prompting, his blood ran cold. All he saw was an unmoving Bella, though something about Sakura's wailing was...off. It could be smoke inhalation causing delirium, but something in Geralt's gut told him that this was different.

Unfortunately, he didn't get time to ruminate on that gut instinct as Mirage theorized that the girls' captor wouldn't sand to let his meat go bad, and would take Bella off the rope to cut into her right away. Nodding, Geralt agreed. "Smoke can damage meats, especially inhaled or overexposed on the flesh. If he only sees them as food, he wouldn't want to risk spoiling it." The plan he came up with wasn't a bad one, either. "Hmm, that should work. A bad hit to a fleshy spot will take down even the largest of Fiends." Biting could work as well. It might depend on how sturdy the chef's garments were, but he doubted a profession based on standing near fire had overly heavy workwear, simply as a matter of efficiency. It wouldn't do to get heat stroke while preparing a meal, after all.

Their planning was interrupted by yet another commotion downstairs. This one related to both Antoine shouting, and some kind of explosion. Mirage hurriedly gave a plan B in case Larry went off to investigate, and Geralt nodded in agreement. "Can't risk them falling into open flames, yes."

That would be pretty bad if they came this far only to botch it and immolate their friends, wouldn't it?

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

Nick was by no means surprised that the Mirror Dakota didn't accept his reasoning. However, the fact that their problems were physical in nature rather than mental or emotional was a big hint as to what those troubles were. He didn't appear physically disabled in any immediately noticeable way, so it was probably some sort of medical condition or disease that didn't present outwardly visible symptoms. Of course, that left about seven fucktillion different things that it could be anyway, but Nick wasn't all that concerned about the details right now, on account of the violence being inflicted on Mirror Dakota by their giant walking punching dispenser.

Honestly, that was really satisfying to watch. Nothing against Dakota Prime, but the Mirror version was a dickhead, so this was fine. Dakota Prime taking up arms against his Mirror Entity was a bit unexpected, but hey, fight the power, right? Nick was about to hype himself up to get a follow-up in when he saw the Mirror Dakota grab the swinging mic stand with a single hand and stop it with little difficulty. That definitely killed the mood for him, Nick stopping and watching in a mixture of confusion, fear, and existential dread as the Mirror Dakota surged forward, choking the Prime with a motherfucking eagle talon!

The Mirror Monster turned to them as it manhandled the real Dakota without a care in the world, lecturing them on why Dakota was apparently a whiny baby or something. To be quite honest, Nick wasn't exactly 100% focusing on the words coming out of the Eagle Monster Dude's mouth, instead trying to comprehend the transformation. Watching the prison guards, faceless beings for all intents and purposes, transform was one thing, but to see a doppelganger of their companion partially transform into a monster was digging further into Nick's already-fragile mental state. For a moment, he just...stood there, processing the information in front of him.

It was about the time that Dakota started talking back that his brain was roughly rebooted, and Nick realized that he definitely missed some Tragic Backstory Material (TM), what with Dakota refuting the idea that he was using Nick and Vincent. Using them for what exactly? To feel better about himself for being a Nice Guy? For some sort of protection because of his problem (Nick vaguely recalled hearing something about a lung in there)?

Nah, not important. What was important was Dakota getting yeeted back over by the big guy, and Nick responded by quickly dashing to them and offering a hand alongside Vincent. Once Dakota was up and they were able to watch the thing's further transformation, Nick forced himself not to think about exactly what the fuck was going on around him right now, and focus on surviving it.

Dakota called out the lighting fixtures forced Nick to look at the thing and really take it in. Feline legs (Nick was enough of a cat lover to tell that much), feathered body, talons, wings, and a tail. It was like a Gryffon. A fucking mythical creature. Like the Cerberus they'd seen before. Ironically, that actually made this easier to comprehend than the weird lion-wheel things. His brain could categorize this as a fantasy creature he was familiar with.

Taking a moment to follow Vincent towards the back of the stage, he saw the larger man grab a mic with a long cord. Getting the idea, Nick decided to do the exact opposite and grab a guitar that he could use to put a little distance between himself and the creature. Running back to Dakota, Nick gave his fellow student a nod.

"I think the big guy's got a plan. Let's, uh...let's not die."

Not his best work, really, but uh. Brain no do word good, alright?

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Depths

Lvl 7 (83/70) -> Lvl 8 (84/70)

Word Count: 412 words

To say that the plan worked would be quite the understatement. The plan managed to distract the entire floor after Antoine's outburst caught the staff's attention. "Alright, let's get moving!" Geralt whispered, taking the lead. It was mostly out of necessity, as the legend had stayed back a moment to make his shot, and Link had some food in him. If things got hairy, Geralt couldn't afford to hold anybody back by being both behind and slower. Every second might count with the girls being held captive who knows where.

Mirage quickly managed to catch up, however, not that Geralt was particularly annoyed at that. He paused, holding out a hand to ask them to wait while he checked to see if this plan was even viable or not. The rotund chef had taken a moment to yell down and insult the other chefs, inadvertently delaying the rescue squad. It wasn't a long delay by any means, but it was frustrating to have to pause for even a moment.

Mirage then set up a platform using his dart gun, then grabbed one of the kitchen hooks and hoisted himself onto the sausage links. They seemed to be holding the boy legend, so Geralt shrugged and followed after him. It was...certainly an experience, climbing an oversized rope made of sausage links. Geralt's luck at finding himself in strange, impossible-to-explain scenarios seemed to be holding, not that it was a pattern he was glad to have continued. Rather be playing Gwent right now, he thought miserably.

Looking back on it, he'd spent a lot of time playing Gwent, didn't he? He'd won a few tournaments, even. Might have been wise to focus a bit harder on the whole 'stop the end of all worlds' thing, but it worked out.

Returning his focus to the here and now, though, Geralt frowned at the unpleasant feeling of climbing a sausage link. It was greasy, enough so that his grip was tenuous at best, his arms were already hurting from the strain and lack of energy, and he honestly didn't actually know what the hell he was supposed to do when they got up there. If that guy was just waiting up there with a cleaver for them, he could probably get a few throws of the nail out without collapsing, but any more than that was beyond him at this point. Even adrenaline had its limits, and Geralt was very nearly at his.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

It was lucky that it took until Nick was nearly at the nightclub for the searchlight to come back to life, searching across the prison yard for the escapees, heralded by a blaring alarm. Nick hurried up a little bit when it started up again, not willing to risk being caught so close to the group's goal. He continued his tactic of alternating between hiding when he thought he heard guards, and jogging when he thought he was clear.

Honestly, it was kind of a miracle that it worked, given the fact that he was pretty sure he had a bit of tunnel vision still and his heart was pounding like a drum, his legs were sore from the whole beating thing, and that there were actually quite a few guards around. Still, even with the odds seemingly against him, Nick made it to the rave and stumbled in, barely catching Vincent's back as he and Dakota carried onward.

Half-walking, half-jogging to catch up, Nick barely gave any notice to the empty ticket booths other than to note that it was kind of odd, but then again they were in a rave club in a prison inside a spooky mirror dimension, so odd was relative.

The sheer level of activity was making his hairs stand up on end, but Nick carried on through, not wanting to be left too far behind. Catching up to the other just before the singer's performance ended, Nick took a moment to breathe and greeted them. "Hey. Fuck. Thank god I caught up. Wanted to...stick together. Everybody kinda just ran off in different directions, figured you guys seemed cool." His breathing didn't take long to level out, and in a moment the music was interrupted by the announcement of their VIP.

And apparently the main act wanted them all to join him on the stage? Nick looked behind them, following Dakota's lead in not trusting anybody here, but the sight of a wall of people blocking him off forced him to turn his head back to the stage, as if unwilling to register their existence. Shaking off the dread that was building, Nick stuck by Dakota but kept ahead, trying to make sure the crowd didn't make contact with him and physically force him forward.

As they made it to the bottom, the singer and Dakota started talking. How he was a prisoner of passion, trapped here and forced to perform endlessly to a crowd that couldn't truly appreciate his talent.

Oh no. A pretentious douche. Nick thought, uncharitably. Huffing his own farts, head up his own ass, thought his shit didn't stink pretention. Held back by jealous people afraid to be overshadowed by his gloriousness.

He'd heard it all before. At least, he thought he had, until the singer called out Dakota as holding back out of fear, then....

Oh. OH. Oh no. Oh that was not good.

They found Mirror Dimension Dakota. Which was apparently this guy's name. Huh, good to know. Looking between the two, it was easy to see the resemblance, even if the exact details were off, and it wasn't difficult to see that Dakota wasn't handling it well. Truth be told, getting exposed like that by your mirror world doppelganger probably wouldn't have gone well for him, so Nick decided to try and repay Dakota's kindness from earlier by giving him a quick but firm hand on the shoulder. "Hey, hey man. Dakota, right? I, uh, can imagine this is pretty fucked up for you right now. But you had my back before, I got yours now."

Turning to the Shadow Dakota, Nick narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the man, thinking on what he said. Locked away, held back and backstabbed by others for fear they'd outshine them, unrealized potential in somebody who would rather fade into obscurity? Was this some kind of subconscious therapy session? Nick had a retort on the tip of his tongue, but held back for a moment, not sure if he wanted to risk offending Dakota.

In the end, he just gave a simple reply. "Not everybody can match the pace you want when it comes to overcoming trauma. It's a lot more complex than just 'pushing past boundaries' dude, it's re-wiring your entire way of thinking. It takes time, and training, and a lot of dedication." It was a bit of a guess, but the parts about being turned on and robbed, then allowing yourself to fade into obscurity? It sounded like Dakota was kind of like him, in some twisted, fucked-up way.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Depths

Lvl 7 (82/70) -> Lvl 8 (83/70)

Word Count: 304 words

Link's decision to chow down on some carrots that he'd hidden in his boot got a small sigh from the child Witcher. He wasn't sure how wise his reluctance to eat at this point was. While he recognized that that was most likely his stomach talking, he couldn't help but wonder. His hunger was unnatural, obviously a means to force him into eating the cursed food, but it was also crippling him. In his current state, he'd be hard pressed to give more than a good throw or two of the nail he was wielding.

Getting another look at the kitchen arrayed before them, Geralt was reassured that choosing stealth, at least for now, was a good plan. His body probably wouldn't be able to support him for an extended run, unfortunately, and that meant that even if shit hit the fan, he'd need to either rely on the others to help him along, or hope that more backup came along in the nick of time.

Link's plan to distract the chefs was sound, as was the addendum of potentially sowing the seeds of discord among them by framing one for causing a mess. With how high-strung these guys seemed to be, it wasn't a bad plan. Geralt nodded along. "That could certainly work. The stairs will be a chore, or climbing might even be more so, but I should be able to manage, albeit slowly. Some basic Witcher training and a light body make for a good climber." He wasn't exactly looking forward to climbing a rope made out of sausage links, but he would do what he had to to get the girls out. His anger was still there, but it was simmering rather than flaring up. When he had the chance to unleash it, there would be hell to pay.

Persona - Soldiers of Fortune

Nick Waller

---

As the others charged on and made a hole, Nick gladly took advantage of their kindness and ran on ahead, confident that they were sufficiently shocked out of their temporary stupors. And if they weren't, he had chosen life after all. Say what you would about the morality of his actions, but at the end of the day the last thing Nick wanted was to die in this place, and he had a feeling he'd just get in the way if he did more than just try to help hold the door open.

Which, for what it was worth, he did from the outside. Dakota was there with him, and Nick gave the other boy a nod as they strained to ease Barney's burden. It was good that the larger boy had started this thing, after all, since Nick had no earthly idea how the hell he would've managed to get this damn door open with how heavy it was.

From his position, he had a good view of the others' escape. A slightly older-looking woman was practically dragging along the girl he'd encountered earlier during the cafeteria incident, so that was a bit of a load off his back. The other member of that incident came through as well, having spent a bit more time trying to avoid pain rather than barrel through like a mule. Which, given that his clothing was probably a lot less protective than Nick's or that other girl's jacket, made sense.

As the whole of the group managed to escape, Nick let the door slam shut once Barney let go. He noticed the moment's pause for their savior, but Nick was still too hopped up on adrenaline to properly mourn her. Or celebrate her upcoming victory, he wasn't sure which. She didn't seem to hold the illusion that she'd be doing more than buying them time, though whether that was until her death or her own escape Nick hadn't quite caught. He hoped it was the latter, but going back to help was impossible. As was staying and helping. They were too out of their depth here. Those stork-looking freaks had shot frickin' laser beams from their frickin' wings!

Taking a moment to breathe, Nick caught the conversation about the searchlight, and boy was he glad to confirm with his own eyes what had been said. That thing was completely out, spazzing around and blinking red now and then. They were safe from that fresh hell, at least, but this place was still crawling with guards. Whether they could transform into nightmare-beasts was a question Nick emphatically did not want answered, to be frank.

So, as the groups began splitting up, Nick decided to go with the injured but still kicking Vincent, and the empathetic and helpful Dakota. They had the power of Speed (in Nick), the power of Fuck You (in Vincent), and the power of Friendship(TM) (in Dakota). There was no way they'd lose!

Unfortunately, almost immediately after deciding to follow them, Nick made a wrong turn while they were being chased and had to duck around a pen and quickly double back through using his patented technique to compress his body to the width of a household sponge (not quite literally, but it was honestly disturbing how much he managed to flatten himself as a way of squeezing out of the pen while the guards searched), managing to lose his tail in the chaos.

Free of his chasers, Nick kept a low profile and jogged his tired ass over in the direction he'd seen Vincent and Dakota going, which seemed to be some kind of bar or rave club. Not his scene, frankly, but when in Mirror Dimension Rome, do as the Mirror Dimension Romans do.

World of Light

Geralt of Rivia

The Maw- The Depths

Lvl 7 (81/70) -> Lvl 8 (82/70)

Word Count: 405 words

As he departed to enter the hatch, Geralt made sure to turn and catch the nail that Kamek had sent back to him. Going it in such a small group, they'd need every advantage they could get.

Geralt was not having a good time in the vent. He was hungry, starving really, he was angry at having been kidnapped, and then at his friends having been RE-kidnapped, and this vent plan had turned out to be somewhat of a bust. There was no way to directly get to the girls that had been taken by the chefs. They kept on, however, despite the cold leeching their body heat to the point of pain and the extreme slope that sought to tumble them.

Thankfully, at the end of their path was a hatch that they could exit from. At the same time, a bunch of mouse traps were lying in wait for them right outside that hatch. Some were baited with cheese, and others with meat. Having followed behind Mirage, there wasn't much for Geralt to do but wait as he cleared the way for them. Emerging once it was safe to do so, Geralt frowned at the sight of Mirage taking the cheese from a trap that he'd cleverly prevented from springing and killing him.

Part of him was annoyed at Mirage for succumbing after having come so far. Part of him figured that they needed somebody who wasn't running off of adrenaline, anger, spite, and fumes at this point. Part of him was even tempted to grab a piece of cheese with his nail and dig in himself.

Still, thoughts of the various horrible ways curses could take hold against made it practically impossible to desire food at the moment. On some physical level, of course he wanted to eat. But on a deeper, psychological level, the thought of food repulsed him, knowing that it could cause him to become any manner of horrific mutated abominations. It could cause him to be stuck as a child forever. It could cause unchecked growth into a suitable meal for the chefs. Anything could happen, and it was that which kept Geralt from partaking himself.

"I'd prefer to keep to the shadows, personally. There's only three of us and at least a dozen of them. As much as I'd love to tear a path through these whoresons, I'd rather do so once the girls are safe."