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World of Light

Heh. Michael’s not going to like how the Courier deals with his plan. But of course, 6 is already way ahead of him as it is, so even if he wanted to listen to it it’s not like he could. :P

WILD CARD!

World of Light

Courier 6

Level 2 - (12/20) EXP
Location: 1-1, Ancient Gardens
Word Count: 1281

Zer0’s words washed over Courier 6 as he ping ponged his thoughts to make heads or tails of the weird way the assassin spoke. Thankfully this time the flowery language was left at the door, leaving only the strange being’s syntax as the struggle to interpret. As far as the things 6 had heard Zer0 say, this time was refreshingly direct. Loyalty? The Courier was always willing to have another traveling companion. Badass? Heh, well yes, he supposed he was pretty badass. Vault Hunter, well that he… Wait, the Hell was a Vault Hunter?

”The hell is a Vault Hunt-What’s happening?” His attention shot back to the spirit in his grasp, which buckled and broke beneath his grip. The colors flowed outward and around, taking on new shape, malleability becoming solid substance. His eyes took it all in, the rainbow of color dulling into a bland paint job. He now held in his hand some sort of gun. Bigger than he was used to using, which could pose a problem, but a gun nonetheless. Two barrels, rotary action, he recognized what manner of weapon it was after only half a second of observation.

”I’ll be damned,” he muttered, then spoke up for Zer0’s sake. ”These spirits turn into loot when you break them! Hot damn! Now if this is what I think it is…” He played around with the weapon for a few seconds, turning it over in his hands, checking it over for any damage, following the mechanics. It seemed to lack any sort of ammo clip, magazine, belt, or feed. Even the rotating cylinder didn’t eject for reloads. Most peculiar. It also didn’t have any sort of power cell, so it didn’t appear to be an energy based weapon. That’s when his eye caught sight of a green meter along the side. Now what could that be? Well, whatever it was, time to test the weapon out.

Hearing some grumbling and pitter patter nearby, the Courier turned to see more of those goblin and bokoblin creatures slowly making their way up the incline. They seemed to have been surprise that he detected them, almost as if they were trying to make a last ditch sneak attack on the pair of badasses. Not a good move on their part. He held up the weapon, looked down the sights, and pulled the primary trigger.

Thwoomp!

A projectile launched outward, landing in the midst of the creatures. It barely gave off a single beep before exploding, triggered by their proximity alone. They went flying, then dissolved and left behind little spirits just as their kin did. A few survived, albeit heavily injured, and slinked away instantly, wanting nothing more to do with the conflict. The Courier winced slightly, not so much at the carnage he had just created, but at the functionality of the weapon. ”Dammit, I figured as much…” Once again he glanced at the little green meter, taking notice of how it had been partially depleted. However, very slowly, it was creeping back up. An internal power source with automatic recharge? The grenade launcher lacked any solar panels, so it couldn’t have been solar powered. How did it recharge, then? Energy didn’t just come from nowhere, it has to be transferred somehow! Curious, but ultimately disappointing to the Courier.

”You want this loot?” he asked Zer0, holding it up. ”I don’t like explosives. My world kinda, well, got blown up by nukes a few hundred years ago. Gives ya a weeeee little bit of a distaste for explosions.”

Zer0’s helmet flashed with another image, this one a “0w0,” as he spoke.
"Explosives are not
The kind of weapon I use
Except the Norfleet."

6 merely shrugged, barely bothering to spare a thought as to what this “Norfleet” could possibly be, and slung the grenade launcher over his back. No way was he just going to let it sit there for one of Galeem’s brainwashed flunkies to happen across. Maybe someone else in the group would be able to put it to better use? Speaking of which, they had reached the top of the canyon. The wastelander could see where all three of the paths intersected, and what’s more he could see the rest of the group moving forward, ahead without the two of them.

”Damn, guess everyone is in a rush. No time to harvest all these little guys for loot. Hey, thanks for the assist, pardner. You’re a real badass too, and I got your back anytime.” Without another word, the Courier took off at a brisk running pace. They had to catch up with the others, especially with what looked to be a full blown war going on up ahead.

---

The Courier ran past the various rabbit-like creatures, who for the most part all seemed to be doing their own things. None had attacked him, so he was content to live and let live. That meant that he was able to reach the main group just as the hooded figure was stabbing some morbidly obese creature in the chest with… Was that a giant key? Weird. Well setting that aside, the Courier approached the massive King Bowser to report the situation. He wasn’t looking forward to the encounter. Not that he expected the Koopa King to react unfavorably to the news, quite the opposite. It was just that the jet had worn off and he was coming down from the high. He didn’t much feel like talking to anybody.

”A’right boss, just like I promised, the canyon has been secured from all enemy forces. Once we take that castle, we can rest assured that no enemies will be launching an assault from that flank. Side note, I found out that if you throttle the fuck out of these little spirits left behind from our kills, they turn into loot!” He held up the grenade launcher that had once been the trio of bomb-lobbing goblins, as if to present a kill for his master. But of course, Bowser was not his master, just a temporary employer, and this was no gift. He wasn’t in the business of giving out gifts, at least not to the already entitled such as the king. Maybe to someone poor or down on his luck, but not a king. The Courier was much too greedy for that.

That’s when he noticed the dancing woman, Din, speaking to the cat person, Ratchet. Ratchet still had one of Linkle’s crossbows, but was otherwise unarmed. Unless you counted that oversized wrench Ratchet had on him, which the Courier most certainly did, but still, the cat-person looked a bit naked. The Courier decided to approach Ratchet with the Maniacs’ Bombuilder. ”Here,” he said, holding it out for Ratchet to take. ”It’s a recharging grenade launcher with two settings. I only tested the first one, which is proximity bombs.I’ll give it to you… If you do me a favor later. Sound good?”

The Courier didn’t even wait for Ratchet’s response, dropping the grenade launcher into what he assumed would be open and waiting arms. Tora had spoken up, saying something that demanded everyone’s immediate attention, even if they didn’t yet know it. Kirby, who was resting peacefully in Bowser’s white hat, had been taken by the rabbits!

The Courier armed himself with the Ratslayer, took a swig from his whiskey bottle, grit his teeth, and gave chase. ”Looks like it’s rabbit season!”

World of Light

Very possibly, but I’ll need to get that skill at my next level up, which is exactly what I planned to do.

World of Light

Especially with Zer0 and 6 about to join the main group again, both with injuries.

World of Light

Courier 6

Level 2 - (9/20) EXP
Location: 1-1, Canyon Exit -> Ancient Gardens
Word Count: 824

Frustration toward the large number of misses gave way to surprise at the results of the shot that had connected. Rather than black powder in the barrel, another of these green monster things jolted up in pain. The larger concealing the smaller? No doubt a great tactic for sneak attacks, which backfired in this particular instance. However the Courier didn’t get the opportunity to think too much more about it at the time, as Zer0 soared over head (did he propel himself on the rocket explosion’s shockwave? Holy crap that was awesome!) and planted some of his own bullets into their cart of explosives, leading to… Much more favorable results than the Courier’s own attempt.

Which led to the most insane plan the creatures could have possibly come up with in that instant. Had he more opportunity to appreciate the tactic, the Courier would have admired their determination and tenacity as one rivaling his own. Alas, he had to think quickly and react even faster as they propelled their own explosive-filled cart straight for him in a brutal suicide bombing. Having just exhausted his stamina as much as he could through the use of his V.A.T.S., sprinting wasn’t an option. The out of breath Courier took a dive down the incline, his back and thus the thickest part of his duster, to the crash site. Dammit, if only these creatures were leaving behind typical corpses rather than fading away with the only remnant being these wispy disk-like things! Then he could take proper cover behind a cadaver!

The explosion was the largest yet, fitting for the bomb-lovers’ final hurrah. The incline gave some measure of cover, but the Courier still felt a sharp piercing pain in his back, a few inches left of the spine near the waist. Reaching back, he bit his lips as he yanked a piece of metal shrapnel from his body, then looked it over. About an inch of it was dripping with red blood. Damn, lucky break. A couple inches over and it’d have hit his spine. If his sub-dermal armor hadn’t come back online, or he hadn’t made it partially down the incline, it’d have pierced much deeper.

Ok, now the music was just getting annoying. The Courier switched off the radio on his pip-boy, now finding the added stimulus to be more aggravating than calming, given his situation. That’s when he began to hear another sound altogether…

VRWOOP. VRWOOP. VRWOOP.

Where was that coming from? Was it the tinnitus from the explosion? No, that sensation was more of a ringing bell while this sounded more like a car trying to move forward, but in reverse, if you could imagine such a thing. It wasn’t back up the canyon, neither was it back down. Carefully the Courier looked upward, toward the very top of the cliff wall. There he witnessed a bizarre blue box fading away from sight, like it was rejecting reality. ”Hey, Zer0! Did you, uh… See that? Eh, nevermind.”

He straightened up, groaning somewhat from the stabbing pain.The high of the jet didn’t dull it one bit. It wasn’t like med-x or anything else useful in that regard, just gave him heightened awareness. Damn what I wouldn’t give for some med-x right now. Wonder if this place has any plants I can use to make some? Wait, why can’t I remember how to make it? Wait, my movements in that fight were sluggish and poor too. I can’t remember how to fight proper neither! Fucking sparkle-lord up in the sky. Guess I’ll have to keep trudging along until I remember those things like how it took some time for my armor to kick in again. That’s when the Courier remembered that he was, you know, bleeding. Pretty badly, too. Well, only one thing to do there. He pulled out his one and only stimpack left and injected it near the wound. Almost instantly 6 felt the pain subside as the blood coagulated and scabbed over, building proteins for muscle tissue at an extremely rapid pace. His minor cuts and bruises quickly faded as well. He wasn’t back to 100%, but damn it was near close enough.

After taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of the stimpack, the Courier noticed that the three bomb throwing creatures left behind but a single remnant between them all, not one apiece. This whole thing was kookie, but hey, who was he to complain? ”Oh, you all done pissed me off enough that I’ll throttle ya even in death!” Without further pomp or circumstance the Mojave mailman made his way to the crash site, stepping carefully around the wreckage and debris, then reached out to the floating moat of whatever-the-hell-it-was and made to crush it between his hands.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Verum Autem Ex

Witnessing Bugsy's stand, and Bugsy's subsequent reaction, told Leonard all he needed to know about this individual. Due to a weakness of spirit, he couldn't fully control this clown-like stand. In many ways, the uncontrolled were more dangerous than the villainous. At least those individuals had set goals and thus were predictable, acting in accordance with a pattern. An uncontrolled stand could cause trouble anywhere at any time. Leonard felt confident that he had taken the correct course of action, positively reinforcing Bugsy's confidence. It would only be a matter of time before this would-be comedian had control, and thus was no longer a threat. And if he used his stand for the wrong reasons, well, all Leonard had to do was slash the symbol from his notebook to cripple the man back into a nervous wreck, and subsequently beat him down until he understood the ramifications of his actions. Simple.

"That is called a stand, a manifestation of your soul and fighting spirit. Weakness of character results in weakness of the stand, and vice versa. With your newfound confidence, you should be able to manifest it at will, with a little practice. But a fair warning, Mr. Bugsy. There are a great many stand users on the rise, many who are not friendly. Those who misuse their power... Must be put down. Do you plan on misusing your power, Mr. Bugsy?" To emphasize his point. Leonard idly fingered the holster strap to his pistol. The confidence power hadn't taken too strong an effect yet, so best to get the message across and set in stone before the comedian decided that his new power gave him carte blanche to do whatever he wanted.

World of Light

Love the goblin troll face. Pretty hilarious.

Reign: Kingdom Come

Marque de Bourdeaux

---

Marque could not help but find himself annoyed at the rather selfish antics of the physician-in-training, despite understanding where the man came from. Clearly the danger had not passed, only on temporary leave, and thus resisting any action which could place him in safety felt at odds with the man's usual rational thoughts. Still, more terrible behaviors could not dampen the sheer joy an elation Marque experienced merely trotting alongside his master once more.

In spite of the circumstances, the young actor could only reflexively smile alongside Gardevoir even through such terrible news the theater master gave. Terrible, and gravely fascinating. In the stories heard before of the death-bringing wolfborn, Marque had never heard such tales of other worlds beyond their own. The idea that one could exist at all, much less a world a darkness lacking any and all flame, could be described as only incomprehensible. Yet still the ideas resonated with what they had seen, and they resonated with Marque's mind. The story was one he could tell again and again to the people, once Gardevoir accompanied him back home and his name was cleared.

That is when his master bestowed upon Marque a gift, a mask of dark portent, black and feathered with beaked nose. "A crow?" he wondered aloud, wistfully. Turning the mask about in his fingers as he inspected it, the costume accessory, despite being completely alien to him, felt strangely familiar. Perhaps it bore some connection to him in another life? Gardevoir insisted the mask would come in handy, but before Marque could request an elaboration, a new threat appeared.

His ears pierced like an arrow, the screech demanded attention and so he gave it. Some unholy abomination appeared from the ocean depths, something far more terrifying than the hounds of prior, and with it a biting cold. Gardevoir's key offered relief from the bony chill, but such as it was the young man felt as though he were using a match to keep warm in a blizzard.

"It draws nigh! Fly you fools!" Marque stood ready to obey, but his master's next words gave him pause. "There is nothing you can help with here. I shall hold it off. Now GO!"

Marque stumbled, both in form and in word. "B-but master!" he cried out. "I came to the forest to find YOU! Without you, I have failed! Come with us, we must escape together and let the city guard know what really happened to the theater!"

His words had no punch. The voice was weak compared to the icy cold wind of this new perilous creature, and his resolve seemed shaken, yet still Marque stood by his master, ready to face the end with the old theater master if need be. "Get on the dog!" shouted the squire, his voice barely punching through the Breathstalker's influence. Marque glanced over to the enormous hound and its two riders, then back to Gardevoir. The man had practically raised him, was in essence his father. Now that man volunteered to give the ultimate sacrifice so that Marque and the others could live on. He remembered his mother, likely sobbing with worry over the wanted posters. He remembered Rosanne, waiting patiently for his return after this mad scheme gone madder still.

"I love you, master," he declared, his voice once again strong. Strong enough to cut through the chilling winds. Strong enough to bolster his own strength. As Col and the others came by, he hoisted himself up upon the giant hound and locked his gaze on the path ahead, daring not to look back for even a second. The tears streaming down his face told him he wouldn't be able to weather the results if he spared even another glance back.

Gear

• Crow Mask
• Gardevoir's key
• cases of makeup
• Couple masks
• Two sets of clothes
• A wig
• Bag of coins
• "Proof" of affiliation to House Bryce
• Backpack
• 1 days trail rations
• Outdoor blanket
• Flask of water

World of Light

Just gonna go ahead and put this out there, but I love that I have the opportunity to play Courier Six the way I always envisioned him behaving through my various play throughs of New Vegas. Not being limited to dialogue trees and whatnot, being able to really cut loose. Sure, he’s got a long way to go before he can have the skills and equipment needed to be “my” Courier, but to have the chance to play this personality is way more fun than it has any right to be, and I love it.

World of Light

Courier 6

Level 2 - (3/20) EXP
Location: 1-1, Lower Canyon
Word Count:666

The Courier’s grin of determination widened into a grin of mad glee. All these creatures had become pathetic in their mad dash to safety! Or maybe it was his sub-dermal armor and they were simply too weak to pierce his protected skin? Either way, he was able to shove beyond them with the effort he forced into the crowd and remained largely uninjured. Then he came across a veritable minefield of bombs, powder kegs by the looks of them (and he did NOT appreciate being reminded of what assholes the Powder Gangers were!) in such great number that he instantly regretted setting foot near the area.

Then they all exploded. Shit.

Courier 6 fell back, hitting his head on the soft belly of a goblin behind him, knocking it out in the process but receiving some nasty whiplash. Ears ringling ding ding dingling with that sweet familiar sensation of tinnitus (or was that his music?), he clumsily dashed back up to his feet, stumbling more than once. He spared a glance back at the small horde he had outpaced, in particular the one that had broken his fall. ”Thanks. Now stay. Put. Agh, gonna be feeling this one in the mornin’.” He rubbed his neck, turning back to observe the devastated landscape.

Large piles of rubble were only matched by the equally numerous holes littering his path forward. Up ahead he could just barely spot the backside of Zer0. The assassin got ahead of him at some point? Was he not paying that much attention, or did Zer0 use that stealth boy suit he seemed so fond of? Eh, didn’t matter. Point was, they were nearly out of the canyon together and more importantly likely to be able to engage the bomb-lobbing assholes. Quickly the Courier worked to put the pace in and catch up.

No sooner had he approached Zer0 did he see what exactly they were up against. The trio of green men appeared to be no different than their dull cohorts with spears, yet undoubtedly each possessed a measure of intelligence that outpaced the larger collective, at least in terms of chemistry. Making these explosives was both complicated and dangerous. Added to that, these varmints were callous enough to saturate their own kin with bombs just to get at two trespassers. Was that the influence of this Galeem? Possibly, but 6 felt the situation wouldn’t have been much different without the winged ball of ass’s involvement.

OHSHITAROCKET! The target was Zer0, leaving 6 plenty of room to dive aside, but he was not happy with the situation. There was only one course of action to take, he thought as he got up and glared through the dust.

”So YOU’RE the bomb chucking dickweeds, huh?!” he called out just as the radio changed to another familiar song. Hearing the first few notes clicked something in the Courier’s brain, giving him an idea. ”Where I come from, we’re overstocked on explosions! If you can’t be more like The Ink Spots, then I’d rather return to sender!”

And thus, without further warning, the Courier took aim with his Ratslayer and activated VATS, this time with the full intent of plugging as many rounds as he could before exhausting his short term stamina. The target was easy to pick out: the large powder keg strapped to the back of one of these varmints. The goblin’s body was stout, covering most of it. Factoring in distance, erratic movement from laughter, range and accuracy of the weapon, plus overall skill… The report came in at 19% chance to hit. What about the shriveled sphincter-potato they call a head? 46%, more than twice the chance. More reliable than hoping to pierce a wooden keg with burning hot metal in hopes of igniting black powder? Sure. More awesome? Hell no! Four shots queued up, four shots fired, and hope for the best.