Psyker Landshark

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

Cherle d'Artoe seethed at Wulfric and the Kirins alike, his nostrils puffing out and veins pulsing in his forehead. Izayoi frowned at the byplay from Edreni nobleman and some of their party alike, her hand surreptitiously going down towards her blade. Certainly, she'd try not to kill the buffoon should he more than likely attack them, but if he pressed the matter...

Fortunately for the young nobleman, an attendant clad in heavy plate and an armet leaned over to whisper in his ear, and Lord d'Artoe visibly swallowed his pride, relenting as he stepped back.

"This is not over." He hissed, his gaze passing over every non-Skaeler and Esben and Eliane alike. "Pray we never cross paths where I have primacy and jurisdiction, lest I revisit this humiliation upon you tenfold." And with that, Cherle and his party of a dozen men turned and began making for the north, likely back towards Caerdaran where the Kirins had just came from.

___

Wulfric and his men escorted the erstwhile Warriors of Light the remaining half a day through Demet territory to the castle itself, making good time now that the interruption had been dealt with. Quick words towards waiting servants upon arrival had the Kirins situated within a waiting room, with servants bringing in refreshments as they waited for their host's arrival.

The individual members of the party didn't go unnoticed, of course. Rudolf was already well-known to the servants, and was greeted with familiar ease. Being a Knight Dragoon, Galahad was treated with deference appropriate to his station, as were Esben and Eliane from their dress and uniform befitting them as Skaeler officials. Miina's mode of dress was enough to disguise her origins, and she was treated with no more or less decorum than was appropriate for any seeming merchant or minor noble. As for Chisato and Izayoi...while they weren't actively discriminated against, it was clear that the servants were fulfilling the bare minimum possible for good and efficient service, not going out of their way to converse more than they had to or to be in their presence at all.

For her part, Izayoi simply frowned, drinking nothing but water as she narrowed her eyes in distaste at the very obviously Edreni decor. At present, there was naught to do other than converse with Wulfric or simply wait for Earl Demet to receive them.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

One Week Later...

Their departure from Brightlam had been a swift and early thing, in part to avoid the accolades their newfound fame brought. Fortunately, news of the Warriors of Light's exact details hadn't quite spread past the capital just yet, and they were able to take their leave of Drana Asnaeu at last without harassment from overawed locals.

Unlike their last voyage at sea, this time the journey went without interruption at all, aside from a few minor monster attacks that were quickly dealt with and swept up. Their Dranan escort brought the Kirins to a port within a day's journey of Earl Demet's territory within the western marches.

True to Rudolf's assumption, hardly anyone was recognized within port, aside from Galahad's armor and not the man himself. The presence of a dragoon with such motley traveling companions, two Ospreans included, drove some eyebrows up, but they were hardly accosted. They left port in good order after resupplying, and set out for Demet territory proper.

Half a day away, it seemed their extended period of peace and quiet was finally about to end. Up ahead on the road, they saw the makings of a quarrel: two separate groups of armed men, hands close to their weapons and their leaders conversing in raised voices. Or at least one of them was.

"You would bar our passage? Don't you know who I am?!" One of the leaders, a man in Skaller furs and armor, bellowed, triggering a flash of memory for Izayoi.

The man scowled up at Zeidgram, ruby-red blood dribbling down his chin as he released a slew of curses up at him before his guttural voice hardened into decipherable words. ”How dare you strike me? Don’t you know who I am?”

"...Galahad, Eliane. He was one of the adventurers in attendance at Balmung Castle. The Unicorns' leader, if I recall." Izayoi murmured in low tones towards those who had been with the party the longest. "I see his unpleasantness is a constant."

Meanwhile, Rudolf would recognize the other party leader as one Wulfric Demet, treating his counterpart's grievances with an easy smile and a barking laugh. The sight of yet another party approaching on foot piqued Wulfric's attention, which also served to cause the Unicorns to turn around. Said leader looked between the distinctive dress of dragoon, samurai, and gunbreaker alike, and his eyes widened in shock before narrowing in distaste.

"You!" The still-unnamed Skaeller noble glowered. "What, was it not enough to simply leave matters to your betters? You had to walk in my footsteps as well? And what in blazes happened to most of your worthless group? Let me hazard a guess: they fell like dogs and you replaced them as quickly?"

Wulfric's intervention or no, it seemed this confrontation had the potential to erupt into violence. And wouldn't that be a fine first way for the Warriors of Light to introduce themselves to their host?

Falling Skies

CMDR SAGAN "VULTURE" KODOS

God in space, but Sagan hated stealth ops. Even having been a former fighter pilot, his idea of stealth was being off radar, dropping a cruise missle from beyond visual range. Not hoofing it, crouching down behind cover in a several meters-tall warmachine. Nevertheless, this was his life, and he wouldn't bitch about it outside of his own head. No point affecting morale by having the CO whine.

The Watchdog stayed in between those of the 7th infiltrating up front, and those hanging back, aiming to extend the range of the squad's laser communications by acting as a central hub to route comms through. Its pilot manuevered its arms to level the MAS's HPK on overwatch, prone and dug in atop a rooftop.

<< Foot patrol confirmed. >> Sagan commed in response to the radio ping. << Deep breaths, people. Don't get jumpy, let them pass. >>

He continued scanning the streets, letting the onboard smart-targeting AI run passively so not as to alert any Coalies with tone if the targeting suite detected anything. All the while, the Watchdog continued transmitting its scans over laser optics to the rest of the squad that was in range, keeping everyone that could in the loop.

<< Rabbit, Hex, talk to me. Any visual confirmations yet? >>

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

A week after the Siege of Brightlam, the party convened once more in a meeting room within Brightlam Cathedral at Cid's call. Once everyone had gathered, Neve and Eve included, the wizened old sage got down to business.

"Good morning then, Warriors of Light." His gaze possessed a rare twinkle of mirth, to which Izayoi could only grumble.

"You as well, with that inane moniker?" She groused before allowing Cid to continue on.

"The title gives hope. Why would I not use it?" He chortled, before composing himself. "Ahem. In any case, I came to ask all of you whether you've decided upon your next destination. As before, I would continue to advise saving Osprey for last, considering the severity of both the Valheimr presence and the likely corruption of the Crystal of Fire."

"Before that," Neve cut in, rising from her seat to bow her head briefly. "I wanted to make an announcement of sorts. Because of everything that happened with the Grovemasters...they've selected me to take the place of one of the deceased." She said, sounding as if she were still in awe and disbelieving of the proclamation herself. "It isn't official yet, but I'm afraid that with that, I can't rejoin you all, as much as I would wish to."

"On that note," Eve took this opportunity to speak immediately after. "I won't be able to, either. Cid claims I'm close to a breakthrough in taking on Bahamut's power. There's...things I can't say for now. Nothing harmful to anyone, just personal. I'm sorry."

"...Then it seems there are no other choices. Your loss will be missed, the both of you." Izayoi sighed, resigned to accepting the reality of the situation. As it stood, it seemed neither of the two departing party members truly had any alternative in their situations, Neve especially. "Returning to Cid's question..." She looked towards the other members of the group, steadfastly refusing to think of them as that ridiculous name.

"My preference should be obvious. As should a number of our group's. Still, if anyone should care to give suggestions, now ought to be the time."

Digimon: Recompilation

Digimon partner: Vemmon

---

Vemmon

"Processing...processing...combat target, locked."

---

General information

Species: Vemmon
Nickname: N/A
Type: Free
Age: Practically newborn
Outstanding details: Vemmon's body is riddled with azure gashes of scarred data resulting from time stuck in a corruption zone.
Body language: Jittery. Unnatural. Twitches and occasional lurches in its gait.
Partner: Siobhan (Byte)
Why were they partnered: She stabilized it, saved its life. With no memory and little in the way of instinctual knowledge, it latched on to her.

---

Biography

Origin: Vemmon’s first memory was the corruption zone that ruined whatever it had once been, and it considers itself to have no other origin beside that.
Role in Digital World: [ERROR: DATA NOT FOUND]
General skills: Through the haze of fragmented data, error readings, and general mess, Vemmon recalls something of conflict mediation and arbitration.
Special skills: Combat tactics, situational awareness, and battlefield navigation. Whatever Vemmon had been before, battle had clearly been a regular part of its life.
Personal history: It woke up. All there was around it was pain, fragmentation, and deletion. It could have spent weeks in there. It could have spent hours. It survived. The only thing concrete in its head outside of lingering ghosts of memory was its name: Vemmon.

Having somehow stumbled out of the corruption zone in which it was reborn, this half-warped mess was found and stabilized before being hurled into this quest by Dominimon. With no other options or understanding of what to do, Vemmon goes along with it, hoping to develop or reclaim some sense of identity and purpose.

---

Personality

Positive character traits:

• Mentally flexible
• Willing to listen
• Quick learner

Negative character traits:

• Blunt
• Violent
• Completely ignorant of most subjects

Likes and hobbies: Combat, reading, nature watching
Dislikes and fears: Overt displays of emotion, wastelands, corruption zones
Motivation: Whatever mon Vemmon had once been was important enough, powerful enough, that its lingering echoes convinced the powers that be that Vemmon should be Chosen. All it knows is survival, and that instinct alone can carry it far. Give it structure, aim it at a target, and it just may live long enough to either reclaim what had been or have something new arise from the ashes.

---

Digivolution line

Rookie: Vemmon

Details:
Theme: Verification

Spoilers for future digivolutions

Champion: Grimmon

Dark Champion suggestion: Eyesmon
Details:
Theme: Storm Rising

Ultimate: Cyberdramon

Evolution method: Triggered by an influx of -Dramon type data from Siobhan's end, restoring and reactivating previously shut-down evolution processes eroded by severe data corruption.
Dark Ultimate suggestion: Regulusmon
Details:
Theme: Versus

Mega: Heavymetaldramon

Evolution method: Genuine emotional connection developed on both ends of the partnership, along with enough junk memory data reconfigured to allow Warp Digivolution to take place to an alternate line from Vemmon's initial, now-lost form.
Dark Mega: Nidhoggmon
Details:
Theme: Otherworld

Super Mega: [ERROR: DATA CORRUPTED]

Dark Super Mega: [ERROR: USER CLEARANCE INSUFFICIENT]
Details: N/A

---

Personal touches

Whatever:
Voice claim: Superanchors - Rogal Dorn (TTS)

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Meanwhile...

Alarum klaxons sounded. The door was booted down. Valheimr soldiers flooded into the laboratory.

"Go, go, go!" "Lock everything down, secure the doctor!" Rang out voices muffled by helms of black steel. Hojo was brought to his knees, taken completely off-guard by the sudden raid.

"What is the meaning of this?! I have the patronage of His Imperial Majesty himself-"

"Not anymore, you do not." A deep baritone cut the nasally doctor off, its speaker coming into view. He wore great and terrible armor, his mantle flowing behind him. "Siren proved to be a miserable liability, only useful for powering an equally impractical Weapon. Hellfire has already been secured into our custody. The Emperor's decree is thus: no more wunderwaffen. No more spectacular wastes of man and materiel when flesh and steel secured us Arbor, secured us Osprey. No more delays while you ridiculous scientists expend Valheim's time and funds for the sake of your egos."

"How dare you?" Hojo snarled up at the armored casque, practically on the verge of delirium in his ravings. "Do you know who I am?! I am Hojo, tamer of Eidolons, he whose brilliance surpasses-" A gunshot. The armored general lowered his pistol, the barrel smoking as he beheld the perfect headshot in the middle of the mad scientist's forehead.

"I do not care who you are." He uttered, before looking to his men. "Set the charges. I want this laboratory destroyed. He will have no imitators looking to profit in his wake."

Digimon: Recompilation

Came out of the Time Stranger hole just in time to see this, expressing interest

The Envenomed: Military Science Fiction Deniable Operations

Salvator Rasch

Contact with the other team. At last, something was going right on this absurd mission.

"This is Rasch, communication acknowledged, reading you five by five. What's your status - belay that!" Was all he managed to get across comms before a flicker of movement in the voidhanger's peripheral vision demanded all of his attention.

There wasn't much of a choice when he was rushed down so quickly and with so crushing a blow: Salvator blinked away on instinct, reappearing a few feet directly above the cadaver puppet that had just tried to disembowel him. He released his grip on his longarm, letting it hang off its sling. Going for his knives would have taken too long, and would be less efficient against these targets than his newest tool.

As Salvator descended upon the puppet in an aerial pounce, a mental command into his armor's neural net triggered his solidified LMD to form a pair of heated hard light blades extending from his wrists. He thrust downwards with both as he fell, aiming to plunge them deep into the cadaver and bisect it with superheated light the same way it had just tried to do to him.

Final Fantasy: Lightseekers

Ranbu no Izayoi

At some point, the haze of magically-induced rage faded from her senses. It hardly mattered, not when the object of her ire was finally within her grasp. Already driven to the peaks of fury from her own naturally-driven anger, bloodlust, and need for vengeance, Izayoi managed to draw her wakizashi from her belt and drive it into Reisa's throat, finishing the battered captain with one last vicious thrust.

The light left Reisa's eyes, and with it, so did the metaphorical burden upon Izayoi's shoulders. It was done. Finally. After seven long months, Isshin, Suzume, and all of Atsu had been avenged. She felt lighter already. No longer did the mantle of justice, of vengeance, fall upon her. By her inaction had Atsu's fate been wrought, and by her hand they had been avenged. The samurai burst out into a peal of delighted laughter as she ripped both blades, long and short, out of her hated nemesis's body, only barely registering Galahad and Miina's twin magics slowing her fall. Reisa's corpse flew down farther and farther from Izayoi's vision, and she could but take a moment to truly breathe at last.

"Finally," She murmured under her breath, just close enough for her two erstwhile companions to hear. "Finally, this bedeviled wretch has kept an oath she has made. May all of Atsu find final peace and rest with the death of their killer."

___

Eventually, all among the Kirins managed to touch down upon the ground, a pulped mass of shattered bone, blood, and metal staining the soil a distance away from them. It took some time for them to receive the news, but for once, it was a triumph: Valheim had failed in their objectives and was in full retreat, though Zacharias had called off any pursuit in favor of controlling the damage to Brightlam itself. Notably, Valon had been spotted leading the retreat, looking little worse for wear.

The days that followed saw the Kirins being treated as heroes within Brightlam and the nation at large as the news spread. Both Zacharias and Neve were unreachable once the former had officially lifted the Kirins' bounties, with damage assessment and rebuilding as their top priorities. For now, they were free to rest and recover from the arduous series of battles that had punctuated their return to the city.

At some point, a different title for those who cut the head of the snake during the invasion had sprung up. If anyone knew who had begun giving them the moniker "Warriors of Light", they were unwilling to say. But the title began to spread, and soon enough, many in Brightlam preferred to use the epithet over their official name as a group.

ACT 1 - END

Pokémon: Ascendancy

Fiona MacConnell

"Spillin's a skill issue, Hesty!" Fiona jibed in response as Charles began fulfilling drink orders.

"Hangover cures are a crock and the only treatment is hydration and rest." He offered up when Sloan asked for a tip before starting to slide drinks across the bar. An Arnold Palmer for Niall, G&T for Leander, and a classic margarita each for Luca and Vivi's requested surprise, chili salt added on the rim.

"That, or simply drink enough water before and after imbibing. I could suggest sobriety, but that'd put me out of business."

Meanwhile, Fiona turned in her seat to regard Leander with a grin, raising a fist to bump against Sloan's as she did so.

"Oi, ya bring Oberon? Felon's been chompin' at tha bit fer another go at yer wee lad." She grinned, taking an unladylike swig of her drink. "Think about th' ratings, tabloid headlines, Chairman's heart rate spiking, all that good shite. Got tae cut off another one of Ryker's speeches wit' something, aye?"