radio414

Quinn was quick to be on the defensive. “Oh, no! I am not injured. At the very least, I am not hurt in a way that would impede our journey. I am ready to continue onwards once you two have wrapped up your business here.” Really, what hurt more was how both Belladonna and Nathaniel seemed more concerned with things other than her and Cassiopeia’s moment of triumph. Well, he supposed any sort of acknowledgment from Belladonna had to be a positive one, but Nathaniel had seemed so bubbly as they had left New Point Landing, talking about how he had to catch all the Pokémon that ever existed and some that did not. If it was jealousy, that was new. Quinn had not judged Nathaniel to be the jealous type.

If this was about the Rattata, that was also confusing, but in different, more vexing ways. How did neither Belladonna nor Nathaniel know? Had they never experienced just what wild Pokémon could do to each other? To a human, even? It was why people were warned away from tall grasses without a Pokémon of their own at their side. And even besides then, in environments one might think were domesticated… Quinn gripped Cassiopeia’s string and held on tight. The naïveté of the living, they supposed. And the Rattata were still alive too. When Normandie walked over and sniffed one of them, it still flinched.

But then Nathaniel said congratulations, so perhaps Quinn had just been overthinking things. “I am sure you will hear several stories from me,” Quinn said. “I do love giving a good tale.” And Normandie turned around and started pawing at zir foot, so she was done with her lording over still-alive things and certainly done with the introductions that came with that. “Oh, hungry already? Alright, for being so good…”

They fished out a berry and offered it to the Rattfian, who snatched it right out of her hand and started gnawing on it. Quinn used the opportunity to stroke Normandie’s head, making sure to get behind the ears where he assumed Rattfians liked pets best. Getting up close and personal with Normandie’s fur, however, got Quinn to start paying attention to its condition. “Oh, you were just in a number of fights yourself, were you not?” Quinn said, jerking back upwards. “And Cassiopeia, forgive me, I do not know what I was thinking. A single potion could not have mended all that abuse you endured on my behalf. We should go back too.”

Nathaniel had already rushed off back towards town with the wild Rattata. Quinn could only give chase, bursting back through the brush calling out, “Wait for me!”

 

On 8/26/2023 at 4:16 PM, LordCowCow said:

 

8/10 yeah sure she can have it if she wants it that badly

On 8/28/2023 at 1:34 AM, yui said:

 

8/10 yeah sure they can have my time if they need it that badly

On 8/28/2023 at 1:40 AM, The Chayncemaniac said:

 

honestly i'm just more confused as to why context would be necessary tbh song's fine 7/10

6 hours ago, cr47t said:

 

i still have no idea what pizza tower is besides the trans dude memes but at least it knows how to rock a mean song 8/10

---

OP Suggestion: i watched the movie "drive" tonight and say what you will about the movie it has a banger of a soundtrack 8/10 

 

It was the zombie that got there first, and therefore it was the zombie that met Chris’ blade once again. The chunk sound as his sword cut through rotted flesh and bone was satisfying, but Chris found himself in trouble as he realized just how deep he’d cut in. His sword was stuck on something, and the zombie was somehow still moving. Chris’ sidestep out of the way of the zombie’s counterattack -- another wild flailing of its clawed hands, trying to bring one down on his head -- was an awkward one. He wanted to hold onto his sword. He wasn’t about to lose it in the fog. But that meant he couldn’t get entirely out of the way, either, just rotate the zombie around. He ended up having to duck out of the way, which left him with a grazed shoulder. After he had just gotten it healed, too! Chris hissed through his teeth and jumped back up.

Behind the zombie now was the skeleton, or what was left of it after losing its head. Chris had already complained that moving around without a head was cheating, and he was sure that differentiating between a fellow undead and a perfectly good alive person, while still cheating, was still within its capacity. He tugged at his sword again, and though it was still stuck in the zombie, all that maneuvering had finally gotten it to loosen a little bit. “Let’s see how you take it a second time,” Chris said, giving one final pull while, at the same time, raising his boot and kicking the zombie in the chest, sending it sprawling back into the skeleton.

Both undead disappeared into the mist for a moment before Chris heard the sound of crunching bones. The zombie slowly reappeared in the mist, shambling back towards Chris yet again, but the skeleton had fully disappeared. Chris hoped it was for good. The zombie, though… “You just don’t know when to quit, huh?” Chris said. He brandished his sword and took a chance on another look-around as the zombie approached. He didn’t see anything near Lana or Ziun, so “Hey, go back and regroup with Estellise!” he said. “I’ll be right there, just gotta… Rah!” As the zombie got back into sword range, Chris whirled back around with a high horizontal cut that he aimed right at the zombie’s neck.

In terms of spooky things Brian had encountered that night, being in a cemetery during the witching hours didn’t even crack the top three. But that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it. If he had his way in life, he’d only be in a cemetery and/or a graveyard once ever, and that would be after he was dead. Alas, he was alive and paying ill respect to the dead who he was sure he was trampling over as he stumbled through the gravestones looking for Shiki. It was only when he realized a low star in the distance was actually a lamp that he made any sort of headway at all in that direction.

Thankfully, there really wasn’t anyone who even remotely looked like Shiki; he’d have recognized them anywhere, even as just a silhouette. Brian nodded when Shiki asked their question. “Ghost. Told you it was a ghost,” he said to Carmen, oblivious to the fact that he was the one who had introduced that ambiguity in the first place with his weird “demon, djinn, spirit,” ramble. He looked over Shiki’s shoulder to get a better look at the gravestone, taking it all in and adding a few more pieces to a puzzle Brian knew he’d never finish.

“She didn’t have a face. I bet that’s a pretty big change from how she was while alive,” Brian said. “And she was scared of seals now, too. Imagine being weirded out over a seal. Couldn’t be me.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, what do you want me to say? Shiki, the ghost tried to kill me, or at least drag me to some otherworldly dimension that two custodians had already disappeared into. It sucks that she died young, but she didn’t have to make that my problem. I don’t have a lot of sympathy for things like that when there are all these other stories about benevolent passings-on.”

Comradely Objects

Fortunately, the trek to Goodale Park was a short one. The Church of the Sacred Harp was just off Second Avenue, and Goodale was three blocks south, with Goodale Street and, yes, Park Street forming the corner of its main entry gate. Even better, the route to the park from the church was entirely wide-open streets with little chance of ambush which allowed Sibyl and the heroes to keep an eye on Damian, Hellhound’s dog who had reverted to his teacup form, as he stalked behind them.

Goodale was a modest little park with all the sorts of amenities one might expect of it -- a playground, picnic tables, a shelter house with restrooms, two monuments, including a bust of Lincoln Goodale, and a duck pond with a fountain. There was also a stretch of murals on an isolated wall nearby. Lincoln Goodale was some doctor who had been dead for longer than anybody could remember. Nobody could remember the reason for such a memorial, but he must have been important because Goodale Park had a special property that set it apart from everywhere else in Scarlet City:

Goodale Park was a natural power nullifier.

Power nullification affected different people in different ways, of course. Someone with a power that had reshaped their body to be that of a centaur would still be a centaur while galloping around Goodale Park. Wings didn’t just fly away when someone who’d had them all their life entered the airspace above the park. But flying itself might be exceedingly more difficult or a hypothetical centaur’s accuracy with a bow might become just better than that of a novice. Indeed, as the three arrived,, pushing their way past all the press that had gathered outside, then past security who was pushing all the press back and into the outer ring of streets just outside Goodale Park’s range, they could see both kinds of capes rushing around in the grass along with every other kind just past the gate.

The air was full of chatter. Most of it was organizational, of course, trying to provide a direction to all the running about. “You’re a Tinker, right?” came one overheard bark. “All the Tinkers are comparing notes over by the trades monument. Oh, you’re a Thinker? Sorry, uh, I think they’re handing out ibuprofen in the shelter there.” Some chatter was what sounded like updates, though. “Spotted two known Gibbons agents flying westward,” was one call. “What did they hit? Was anyone tracking those ones?”

Lachesis was the first familiar face they all saw, waiting by the main gate. She had her blindfold on, but she was dressed in a business suit and was busy applying an ice pack to her forehead. “Hey Sibyl,” she said as she walked up, clearly forcing a smile. “You’re still alive. We should have asked you to bring stronger stuff. Fucking hate this place.”

She gave Override and Aeon a nod before her head turned to meet Lailah. “You’re still alive too,” she said. “That’s good. Wouldn’t want all that work to go to waste.”

“What are you planning?” Lailah said.

Lachesis’ smile became almost genuine. “What I’m planning right now is to rid myself of this headache.” She looked back at Sibyl. “A couple headaches, actually. No, seriously, good job. Hellhound’s a big get. Atropos is…” She pointed behind her with her free hand. “…over there running security with some of the Peacekeepers. Have her handle the interrogation. Should be outside the park right now so you don’t have to lug them around without powers.”

Victor Sekelsky appeared behind her. “Who’s doing what?”

Lachesis didn’t even turn around. “Heya, Vic. I already know what you’re going to say if I explain myself, so I’m just… not going to do that.”

There was a long pause. Lachesis eventually looked over her shoulder. “You still there?” When he didn’t answer her, she said, “We’re on the same side right now, Vic, and you’re not my dad.”

It still was a noticeable amount of time before Director Sekelsky spoke again. “I would like to talk to Archangel Lailah now,” he said.

“She’s all yours.”

“And I would like to talk to my team.”

“Sure,” Lachesis said. She turned back to address Sibyl specifically. “Yeah, go see Atropos. She and I think Minos will know what to do with those. I’m gonna go…” She looked back at Victor again, who was still staring daggers right through her. “…get a new ice pack or something I guess. Hey, in case you didn’t hear, big meeting’s in a bit -- you’re all invited.” And she was gone, rushing off back towards Goodale Park’s shelter house.

Once Sibyl had left, Director Sekelsky sighed. “Just once, I’d like to get through an S-Class without ulterior motives at play. But I’m glad to see you all in one piece still.”

“It is good to see you too, my friend,” Lailah said. “If only these were better circumstances. I am sure Override has already sent you details of our encounter, but since we are on the subject of the Fates’ motives, there are things he did not see I would like to share with you.”

The director raised an eyebrow, but was quick to assent. “Alright, come with me then. Override, I can only guess what Ophiuchus wants from you, but he was asking for you by name, so please go, uh, do that for me. Same deal with Stanley and you, Aeon, except I know even less. He’d be over by the gazebo, and I think Ophiuchus is over by the fountain. But also rest up if you need to. We’ve still got to hash out battle plans, but this might be the last break you’ll get until tonight. And maybe not even then.”

---

OOC

 

“Fuck,” Brian said again. It seemed over. There wasn’t any noise that would indicate a paranormal threat still lurked in the bathroom, and he swung the flashlight around too just to see if the ghost was still hiding somewhere, but it wasn’t. Speaking of the flashlight, Brian noticed it was back to a steady beam of light, if a little hindered by its cheap bulb. He went over and jiggled the lightswitches too. The lights were working just fine.

The last thing Brian did was find the spot where the ghost had faded away and brush the remaining ashes of the burned-up seal with his foot. Were they supposed to sweep that up? Couldn’t hurt, he decided. The paper towel dispenser was still stocked up, so Brian brushed as much as he could into one of those and tossed it in the bin. “I think we’re done,” he said. “Yeah, good job. Go seal up that last stall just in case and we’ll go tell that crabapple in the office she can stop doing her rosary and go to bed.”

All in all, Brian felt pretty good about the whole thing. Sure, his life had flashed before his eyes a few times and the ghost didn’t actually answer his question, but that was the way it went with ghosts, really. If it had been a demon, maybe it would have been a bit more chatty, but Brian had enough demons of his own to deal with, he couldn’t be too upset to avoid one more. They’d dealt with it all the same. A win was a win. That was something his fraternity would always say to him. “Just take the fucking W.”

Two things happened as he and Carmen made their way out of the school. The first was the aforementioned notification. Brian knocked on the door to the office and said. “Alright, you should be good. Just in case, don’t touch any of the seals for… a day or two?” He gave Carmen a look like he expected her to know how long these things were supposed to last but he kept talking. “Maybe a week just to be safe. Anyway, uh, leave us a good review on Ghost Yelp or wherever you found us. We’re getting out of your hair now. Have a good night.”

The other thing that happened was they got a text from Shiki: Good work. I finished early. Come to cemetery.

“Aren’t there, like, four cemeteries and another two graveyards in this town?” Brian said. “How’s Shiki expect us to guess the right one?” But his question was answered right away as he crossed the threshold out of the school and looked up from his phone, just across the street. “Oh, that one, probably. You know, I actually forgot that was there.” He looked back at Carmen and cocked his head towards the cemetery. “Alright, sooner we get this over with the sooner we can go the fuck to sleep,” he said.

“Elijah went before the people and said, ‘How long will you waver between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.’ But the people said nothing.”
-1 Kings 18:21 (NIV)

---

The conversation still felt like a tightrope, but it was a tightrope that Melissa was used to walking, so while she could feel her breath tighten up at the fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, it was still a tightrope she had walked before. “I don’t actually think I know how two-on-one duels work,” she said. This was mostly true -- true enough to not be a lie, anyway. She’d been told how they work, but her up-to-recently lack of close friendships with anyone who would get in enough trouble to warrant one, not to mention her own aforementioned conflict avoidance meant that the need to know all of Duel Monsters’ variant rules fell by the wayside, replaced by more important things like, say, the Epistle of Jude. “I’m more than willing to learn, though,” she said. 

Here was the tricky part, though. Now she had to actually make a suggestion. Melissa looked around the desolate park, once again observing all the abandoned picnics and disrupted dates (the romantic kind, not the fruit) that could have been caused by the Spike Brothers but could have also been caused by something worse. “I would rather go somewhere else, if it’s all the same, then. I don’t need to see the big flashy holograms, personally. I get enough of that, from, well…” The angels weren’t really holograms, right? But it was funny to Melissa. She smirked even though she didn’t complete that thought out loud. She also felt the absence of humor coming from foreign thoughts inside her own head, like, they neither laughed along nor admonished her, but the lack of reaction was a reaction in itself. “But we should play. You came all this way out here. You invited us. It would be rude not to.

“We could also turn lunch afterward into part of the game?” Melissa suggested. “Loser --” She caught herself, “or losers -- have to pay for lunch or have to put honey in their coffee or something. I’m not a big gambler but those are pretty small stakes if team pride isn’t enough.” She caught a glance of Fen and realized what she had just done. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to involve you in a bet. I can just- I can pay for lunch or drink doctored coffee. You don’t- You’re our team leader, I…” Whatever fire Melissa had had was gone, replaced by stammering. She’d made it that far, though, which she’d probably find impressive once the situation cleared itself up.

 

On 8/21/2023 at 1:07 PM, LordCowCow said:

 

bass is a little heavy where i don't think it should be, kinda hurt my ears in places 6/10

---

OP Suggestion: kristin hayter she formerly of lingua ignota fame is now the reverend kristin michael hayter and she's got an album coming out in two months pretty psyched about it 8/10 

 

“I see it!” Chris said. With so much mist there wasn’t as much surroundings to be aware of. That said, he was a little occupied at the moment. “Just gimme a… rah!” With a burst of effort, Chris twisted his entire body to the right, dragging along the clawing and biting zombie along with him until he launched it in the skeleton’s direction. In an ideal world, this would have resulted in downing both of them, but Chris would have settled for at least having the zombie take the skeleton’s attack. The skeleton had its sword raised, after all, though it seemed cogent enough to simply toss the zombie aside itself, and the zombie was sent stumbling into the fog. No such luck.

At least the skeleton was distracted, Chris thought. And it was close enough that he could still make his way back to Ziun (and probably Lana) without issue if he was quick enough about it. He took a running start and jumped up to swing at the skeleton’s head.

His sword stroke took the head clean off, but the skeleton kept moving despite that. Again, it stumbled a bit, sure, but it still lurched forward with its sword up. “That’s really rude of you,” Chris said. After all that work, it was still moving! Chris wouldn’t do any of that if he got a dead body thrown at him and then his head chopped off. He almost leaped in again, but stopped himself, batting the skeleton’s sword away. If he kept doing this, if he kept pressing his advantage forward, he’d get out of sight of even Ziun who had just been right next to him. So instead he took a few steps back to where he had just been before. If the skeleton could navigate its way over to where he was without a head to guide it, it could do that. He would be ready for it here, his own sword raised and ready to bring it down on the first undead limb to get into range.

 

On 7/21/2023 at 12:45 AM, LordCowCow said:

 

good on alex for winning that tony and cool ear worm but kinda eh 6/10 i'm sure it's great in the context of the full musical though

---

OP Suggestion: i spent like a month talking down on lauren bousfield's new album and now i can't stop listening to it rip me 8/10 

 

Don’t Believe The Hype

Lucky Cat felt her aura shift again, and her senses expanded with each passing thought. “Finally!” she said, It was just what she needed. They didn’t call her “Lucky Cat” for nothing. As she was now, she could go anywhere within her range she liked with just a single step. She didn’t even check to see what Aeon was doing in her new position, she just leaped away.

Far be it from her to diagnose someone with anything, but if Aeon had one specific problem, in Lucky Cat’s mind, it was that everything had to be about her. Defeating Aeon wasn’t the win condition of this fight, the win condition was capturing the Archangel Lailah and taking her back to Caesar. Just a few more jumps and the Archangel would be back in range of Lucky Cat’s aura, and then, if her aura held out, she could get them both out of there before anyone could stop them. One step, then another, then-

And then she stepped right into the path of another of Lailah’s beams and it all fell apart. It wasn’t her fault she had gotten hit, of course. Nobody had warned her that Lailah had moved up a bit while she wasn’t looking, or positioned her seraph to be right in the way of her most recent jump. Nobody had said, “Hey, your aura’s going to switch again right before you get hit again, so you won’t even be able to dodge this one if you tried.” Lucky Cat’s one saving grace here was that her aura was still useful -- it made everyone more durable, shutting down her pain sensors too so she barely felt a thing as she was flung back again, just in time to get hit square in the chest by Aeon swinging a pew around and knocked up into and through the church roof.

It wasn’t her fault, Lucky Cat thought again as she sailed off into the distance. But it wasn’t a failure either. She could still come back from this. Even now, she allowed herself a smirk. After all, a cat always lands on her feet.

---

Override’s energy bolt hit Arcturus’ energy bean directly, which activated it prematurely right in Arcturus’ face. The resulting explosion -- shunting, whatever -- sent her head over heels. She only just managed to keep enough wherewithal to stop all the other beans from triggering, putting her in the same catastrophic spiral she had just put the tech hero in.

It still took her a moment to right herself. She was used to so many situations while flying, but that one had become quite a rarity for her in recent times. She shook her head as she stabilized. “Cute trick,” Arcturus said. “Or lucky. Doesn’t really matter to me. ‘Snot going to happen again.” She navigated to safely out of range of the remaining lingering mines and dismissed them all with a thought. “It does mean you’ve officially been upgraded to ‘annoying,’ though. Which means I should probably start enjoying myself a bit more. You know, to balance things out.”

Arcturus’ flight patterns grew a bit more erratic. She still circled Override from above, but every so often she dipped in altitude a notch or sped up her revolutions by just a touch. Still, it was clear she was still in control of herself. She only wanted to appear random. She extended her hand out to let loose what could only be some sort of barrage, but right as she was about to do so, Lucky Cat broke through the church ceiling and kept going, sailing in a high arc over the city. Arcturus immediately stopped and sighed. “Vambrace, Cat, bet the other two are falling apart too…” she muttered to herself. Then, to Override, she said, “I suppose I have to go deal with that. Take care of yourself -- take care of my team too -- and we’ll finish this up some other time.” With that, she flew off, chasing after Lucky Cat and leaving Override alone in the church parking lot.

---

The Archangel Lailah dismissed her seraph and immediately let out a sharp exhale. As she caught her breath, further exhalations slowly turned into laughter. “I suppose our inevitable defeat can wait just a little bit longer,” she said. “May Zorro and Astra continue to smile upon us all. Amen.” Her hands had started on her knees, but they were moving up to her stomach even as she remained doubled-over.

“Ah, well,” she finally said, coming back to her senses. She raised her voice, “Carol, are you still up there? You didn’t have any trouble, did you?”

It took a moment, but the church’s pastor came running. “I did not, miss. Nobody came up and I was under my desk besides. Even while hiding, I did manage to follow your instructions; there will be a Union representative here tomorrow to provide a quote for the repairs.”

“Wonderful,” Lailah said. “I’m sure they will build it back to even better than it was before.”

“I’m sure they will, miss,” Carol said. “But more importantly, we received another call. The summit at Goodale Park has requested your attendance. I suppose it is more of a war council than a summit now.”

“I suppose so,” Lailah agreed. She turned to Thessa, Sibyl, and, if he came back inside, Override as well. “I don’t suppose you would mind escorting me there? There may be more coming. Though that does leave the question of what to do with those who have already come, of course.” She looked at where the unconscious bodies of Hellhound, Censer, and Vambrace had fallen. Hellhound’s dog had reverted to its mundane form and was now literally licking Hellhound’s wounds. “What do you think we should do?”

---

OOC

 

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”
-Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

---

Melissa waved her hand, brushing away Fiona’s concerns. “I don’t think I was ever really in danger, even if I thought I was at the time. Devin -- oh, you haven’t met them, but they were there to assist me and I think the Spike Brothers were distracted by Sandalphon anyway.”

Speaking of Devin, Fiona did something much similar to the shapeshifter when confronting the two Spike Brothers behind her. Though Melissa couldn’t see the woman’s face, whatever she was showing Spike Brothers Seven and Eight was enough to get them to immediately about-face and indeed, as she suggested, find something better to do. Again, Melissa accepted Fiona’s apology. “It’s alright,” she said. “The more I see of these Spike Brothers, the less I feel particularly threatened by them. You said it yourself, they’re just goofs with an aesthetic now. Do you think they will always exchange threats of physical force for Duel Monsters? I should just keep my deck on me.”

Which led neatly into Fiona obliquely rejecting the option to play more. In the past, Melissa would have welcomed this, but the reasons for otherwise had already been litigated -- they did not need to be listed so again. She also, in the more recent past, had learned what this sort of language entailed. The word had already been used. Fiona was being oblique, Melissa thought. The way to get the best results was to just play along. “We can play if you want to,” Melissa said. “My duel was pretty short, though maybe all duels are like that with four thousand life points? Fen, maybe you would like a little bit more experience, you’re also welcome to take a slot.

“But we don’t have to,” Melissa said. “If you would rather not, we could just do something else to hang out. I still have not explored the various food options Prana has to offer, do you know any cute cafes, Fiona? Oh, before I forget,” She opened up her watch and made sure to associate the mystery number that had texted them that morning with Fiona. “Or if you’re tired, we could also just go home. It has already been such an exciting day, maybe we can’t take any more.”

There was no specific answer from the Rattata -- Quinn had not suddenly learned how to speak Pokémon, and Cassiopeia’s face betrayed little understanding as well -- but the wild Pokémon’s growling did remind Quinn of just what xe was dealing with. Whether it was because they were still fresh off a trainer battle or because of a new and exciting mystery, Quinn’s heart was pounding out of her chest. He clutched Cassiopeia’s hand tight as they went further into the brush.

More Rattata lay strewn about by the wayside. Quinn stopped to check on a few of them, and every one she checked was alright as far as ze could tell, simply dazed. More than one popped back up and ran off as soon as Quinn laid a hand on them, which was especially startling to Cassiopeia each time it happened. She kept pulling back, yanking Quinn’s hand upwards. It was like her to be so skittish, but it was starting to hurt Quinn’s shoulder. Quinn tried to let go of Cassiopeia and just have her follow along, but then she would wrap herself around Quinn and do the same thing anyway just with added rope burn. They never learned anything new anyway, so Quinn eventually gave up on the fallen Rattata and kept looking for the source of all this carnage.

They came to a copse then, the center of which was a small pile of berries that more rats were fighting over. One of the rats was more than twice the size of all the others, though, and was different enough besides that Quinn was sure it was at least a regional variant if not a full-blown new Pokémon. Hir Pokédex -- one of Sinnoh’s Rotom-shaped models even if Quinn never found a Rotom to possess it -- was immediately in zir hand, and a quick scan revealed the answer:

Ratffian, the street rat Pokémon! the robotic voice of the Pokédex chimed. Due to its fierce appearance this Pokemon tends to be shunned by others, causing it to take things by force to get by. At the sound of its name, the Ratffian immediately stopped chasing another Rattata away from the berries and put itself between its hoard and Quinn. Like the previous Rattata, the Ratffian also growled at them, but it was a different kind of growl -- a hostile kind.

Quinn, though, was undeterred. “Well, are you not just the most fearsome creature?” they said, getting on their knees and offering the back of their hand out (ignoring Cassiopeia’s protestations). “You have amassed this bounty all by yourself, have you? It does take quite the Pokémon to manage all that, though I wonder if you think you will be able to keep this all forever?” Even as Quinn spoke, another Rattata darted out from the brush, snagged a berry from the pile, and ran off.

“You do not need to do this,” Quinn said, crawling closer. “Not that you necessarily need to come with me, of course, but someday you will end up with an empty pile and will once again have to resort to- Oh!”

He had gotten too close, and the Ratffian lunged right into her stomach, knocking them flat on their butt and sending Cassiopeia into a frenzy. She charged forward and hit the Ratffian with an Astonish, yelling out a “Bloon!” that got the rat to leap back and give Quinn time to pull emself to xir feet.

Battle! Wild Ratffian!

“Thank you, Cassiopeia,” Quinn said. Cassiopeia was still streaking around the air and could not acknowledge the compliment. “Cassiopeia,” Quinn said again, and the Drifloon’s only response was to bunch up, shrinking and compressing herself down to avoid another errant lunge from the Ratffian. “Cassiopeia! We just had a battle and you were not this antsy. Get back here and we can battle like we have practiced.”

That finally returned Cassiopeia to her senses. But as she retreated back to Quinn’s side, the Ratffian surrounded itself with a dark aura, and it started moving much faster than normal, chasing after the balloon with a speed Quinn had not seen before, even from the Ratffian’s previous Tackles. It almost certainly hurt more than a tackle as well. Cassiopeia could handle a Tackle much better than she did that hit.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. He had only read about one move being able to strike a retreating Pokémon like that: Pursuit. And if she had their type chart memorized, it was a small miracle Cassiopeia was still conscious. As it was, she was airborne, but only just. “Hold on,” Quinn said. “I have- I think I just bought-” They pulled a potion out of xir bag and immediately sprayed it wherever Cassiopeia looked most hurt. Almost as soon as she had done so, the Ratffian came in again and batted Cassiopeia out of range of the potion with its tail.

Cassiopeia shuddered from the Tail Whip, but the move did no real damage to her. “Minimize again, Cassiopeia,” Quinn called out. “I do not have enough Potions to have you take too many more hits like that.” Cassiopeia did exactly that, and another Tail Whip from the Ratffian brushed through space the Drifloon had taken up just moments before.

“Gust!” Quinn said, and though it seemed the small balloon had no more air left to give, she still managed to send a blast of air straight at the Ratffian, blowing it all the way back to its pile. But the thing was still as vigorous as ever, leaping back to its feet. The only sign that it had taken a hit at all was fur that was slightly more ruffled than normal, and some haggard breathing with the occasional wheeze. It was still perfectly able to fight, and Quinn could see a dark aura forming around it once again.

It was an aura that Cassiopeia nearly fled from just on sight, but Quinn stepped in. “It will only be worse if you run!” Quinn said. “Use Astonish!” The command was just enough reassurance, and Cassiopeia flew in close to deliver another loud “Bloon!” It was expressive enough to knock the Ratffian out of its aura! She had gotten the rat to flinch!

“Now use Gust! Blow it back again!” When Cassiopeia did so, it worked exactly as described. The Rattfian was knocked up into the air, and when it came down, it fell on top of its berry pile, knocking berries everywhere.

The Ratffian squealed in disappointment, its hoard now ruined. Out of the corner of his eye, Quinn could already see Rattata poking their noses out of the brush, trying to get a glimpse at just how close some of the scattered loot had fallen, if they might be able to sneak away with one. The Ratffian struggled back to its feet. There was a gleam in its eye that warned just what might happen to Cassiopeia if she got too close again, but she just floated in place, looming above the fallen rat.

One of the berries had landed near Quinn, and zey picked it up to examine it. As far as it could tell, the berry was completely mundane. The Ratffian had been fighting over food and nothing else.

Quinn approached the Ratffian much more carefully this time and had her palm outstretched in front of her with the berry still in hir hand. “Here you go,” Quinn said. “Let me help you.” He placed the berry down in front of the Ratffian and went over to where some more berries had fallen and gathered those up as well. The Ratffian squeaked at her but still did not react more than that. “I know you have done everything on your own, but that is not the only way to do things,” Quinn said. “It is easier when we work together like this.” They set the next set of berries in front of the Ratffian as well.

They rummaged around in their bag and took out a Potion and the Premier Ball they had received from the shop in New Point Landing. “I returned your berries to you because they are yours,” Quinn said. “I can spray you with this too, to help heal your wounds. You saw what it did to Cassiopeia after you chased her down. But to get the Potion, you have to join my team.“

“Well, I say ‘my team,’” Quinn quickly clarified. “Right now, it is just Cassiopeia and myself. But we are traveling with a group ourselves, so it has not felt lonely yet. What do you say to some more help?”

Quinn took another step closer. The Ratffian no longer growled or squeaked at them, but eyed the trainer warily. Its breathing was still heavy, and it seized upon one of the berries and devoured it. “I will not even share your berries with anyone else if you do not want me to,” Quinn said. “While I would keep them in my bag, they are yours and yours alone.”

The Ratffian chewed on its berry, still staring straight at Quinn, but, slowly, carefully, it closed its eyes.

Quinn tossed the Premier Ball, and the beam of red light reached out and enveloped the Ratffian, sucking it into the shell in the middle before snapping shut. Quinn counted the ball’s shakes out loud. “One, two, and…” They had tried their best. Cassiopeia braced herself for more fighting just in case.

The Premier Ball’s release button blinked. “Got it!” Quinn cheered. Cassiopeia did a little twirl in the air too. Quinn grabbed one of Cassiopeia’s hands, and they both spun around together, but only a few times. “Yes, yes, before I forget.” Xe still had to properly gather up all the berries, and they did not want to forget about the Potion either. Quinn also reopened her Pokédex, scanning her ball to register the updated data. Sex, height, weight, known moves, it was all there now. There was an option to fill in a nickname, and after a little thought, Quinn plugged one in.

Once those tasks were done, though, it was time to return to Route One proper and rejoin the others. With Cassiopeia in one hand and the Ratffian’s ball in the other, Quinn left the clearing…

…and nearly ran right over Nathaniel, who was leaning over one of the collapsed Rattata Quinn’s Ratffian had left in her wake. “Oh! My apologies,” Quinn said. “I was distracted, you see. I found all these Rattata earlier and got caught up in investigating the cause.” Quinn held up the Premier Ball in their hand. “This little thing was fighting off a bunch of Rattata trying to get at her food. It took some work, and I think she even managed to bruise my material body a little, but we did come to an accord. I would like you to meet:” She tossed the Premier Ball into the air, and out from it materialized her new partner, looking proud over some of her former conquests. “Normandie. Or, perhaps if you prefer brevity, I am sure she will not mind you calling her ‘Normie,’ for short.”

14 hours ago, Sethera said:

Where's the third option of: "I don't have peanut butter to store"

peanut butter is stored in the balls

discuss

Clobber was acting weird, which was in-character for him, sure, but that didn’t make it any less stare-worthy, the way he shuffled around and turned away like he was embarrassed to do a perfectly normal task. He had some weird jab about fruit farming that Z. didn’t quite follow -- even if they had been a farmer, what would be the problem with that? -- but maybe that was his plan to get Z. to move on to something more interesting. It didn’t work, or rather, it did work in that Z. moved on, but not for that reason.

No, even before Ears the Noibat lunged forward at the broken coconut, Z. was already cringing and moving away. It was the shrill scream she’d let out that did it. It was basically a dog whistle, and not the online kind Z. could seize upon and call out, so they could only be miserable about it the usual way. They dropped their coconut piece and said, “Hey, warn people maybe next time you want to do that, huh? I was just getting used to having voices in my head that aren’t mine, don’t gotta exacerbate the headache by throwing in a tornado siren.”

Thankfully, other people were breaking away from Jirachi at this point, leaving more people to go bother instead. Hector first went over to the river to look at himself more than he already could with six sets of eyes lying about, then to get a drink of water, before finally coming over to offer to do something with the coconut water instead, but it was the wrong thing. Like, it hit an off-key note in Z.’s brain even if they couldn’t place the whole tune, just component parts.

It wasn’t like they weren’t going to call Hector out on it, though, even with the little information they could scrounge up. “Yeah? You got an emulsifier on you? Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Maybe they had mentioned cooking on the forum, then. Well, they remembered that information, at least, so a cooking topic seemed most likely. If there was a cooking topic, Z. felt like Hector would have been on it, so they refrained from further calling Hector a cooking poser. Instead, they said, “If you want to cook something, we’ll need a fire, and maybe an oven if we can find some stone or clay or something. Walk with me and help me carry the stuff for that.”

Hector turned to face Z. when they spoke. It took a moment for the troop to rotate for all of them to be facing the right direction, but when they all had, six sets of eyes settled on them. “I didn’t promise to make chicken curry. I just said that I could,” he said through the Brass. 

All six of the little orbs swelled up when Z. suggested gathering the supplies. “I would love to help gather the stuff to build an oven. It would be great to cook for everyone,” he said. Then he paused and glanced toward Jirachi. “Probably shouldn't be running off yet though. He sent me a weird… mind… message thing while he was answering questions. Think he wants us all to gather up before he tells us something important.”

Again with the mind stuff. But Z. couldn’t help but look quizzical, tilting their head to the side as Hector explained his reluctance. “He literally said we have half a day though? And yeah, building an oven's hard but we don't need to finish it until after we get back. If it’s so important, he can tell us whenever he wants.” They flexed their front paws. “If there's one thing these things are good for, I bet it’s digging pits.”

One of the troopers turned back to stare at the mist approaching the shore. “Well, he said the Mist would be here in half a day. But I thought there was more he wanted to tell us before that, right?” Hector said through the Brass, who was still staring at Z. “I figured it was a quick break to grab a drink and a bite to eat before we got down to business.”

Z. felt their eyes nearly bulge out of their skull. Leave it to a moderator to make up their own personal rules and try and get everyone else to follow them. It was enough to get them to slip up a little bit and reveal some ulterior motives. “Then help me carry food for most of these people then,” Z. snapped. “God, do you want me to give you a proper ‘you’re welcome’ or not?”

Hector laughed. It tinny noise that rippled from trooper to trooper and caused their heads to bobble out of sync. It was almost bad, like, Ears’ ear noise, if it weren’t also on the softer end. “Sorry, sorry. You're right,” he said (reiterating what Z. already knew). “I’m sure he can wait a few minutes while we grab some things. We deserve the break.” The troop formed into a single file line with the Brass at the front. “Lead the way, Captain.”

“God,” Z. said again, again containing themself first at the laughter at their expense and then the absolutely comical conga line performance this was becoming. The “Captain” thing didn't help much. Stifling it all still meant it came out as a light cough, though. “Okay.”

They went further inland a little ways, just going upstream. Despite the outburst, the “You’re welcome” was not entirely forthcoming. Every so often, they would point out a fruit tree that could be interesting, some of them even fruits unrecognizable to both of them, and both Z. and Hector would shake and/or physically attack the tree to get at its precious bounty. Hector handled most of the carrying, what with technically being six Hectors and all, but Z. did nestle some of the smaller fruit into their fur similar to how they had the Oran Berry back in the Mystery Dungeon. Eventually, though…

“You’re welcome,” Z. said. “I didn’t do it for you specifically, so you didn’t even need to thank me, but you’re welcome. I also didn’t thank you for correcting that actual child about me, so there you go, you get one of those for free too.” They stopped in their tracks, looking at the latest flora discovery directly in front of them. “Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me,” they said. “It’s a date palm.”

Hector did what looked like a shrug but the gesture was not very clear when all six members of the troop were ladened with fruit and supplies. “Thanks anyways. I appreciate it. And don’t sweat it about Cross, I think he just didn’t understand. Patience goes a long way in my experience,” he said.

The troop stopped marching when Z. did, managing to stop before walking into them this time. “Oh, man,” Hector said, the troop shaking with laughter again. It was a much deeper belly sort of laugh this time. “Lucky day for Clobber, huh?” he managed after a moment. “We got him a date.”

Z. didn't fight the laugh this time. It was practically a cackle. “He’s a little dingus, isn’t he? One thing I’ll give him is he has the decency to chew with his mouth closed, but imagine being embarrassed to eat in front of people. Any idea who he's supposed to be in real life?”

“Not really,” Hector said, quieting down a little bit. “You probably noticed but I wasn’t exactly active the last few years. Might not want us to know considering he hasn't mentioned his username at all.”

“Mm,” Z. said, nodding. “I guess. I can think of some really embarrassing people for him to be, and I will absolutely give him shit for it if it turns out he was indeed as much a goober then as he is now. But Ears has been like that too, and she seems cooler than that.”

Hector walked over and used his shield-hand to scoop a date up and toss it up onto the shield of one of the troopers. “Plenty of people are cool now that weren’t fifteen years ago,” he said. “I was a pretty cringy twelve-year-old when I first joined, but I like to think I’m an alright twenty-seven-year-old.”

Z. laughed again, but didn’t correct him. “That’s true,” they said. “I have some baggage myself, don’t I? And that's even ignoring what Zeta Channel eventually became. Naw, my problem is it’s a cringy thing to do now. I don't know. I don’t want to say it’s a matter of trust or anything stupid like that because you don't need to know someone’s entire life story to know they have your back, and I certainly have bigger trust issues right now, but it still feels like they're withholding something, and that’s not not meaningful, you know? We’ll see.”

Hector tried to shrug again. “I get that. I don't mind so much, mostly because I don't think any of the real weirdos from the site got plucked up, but it would be nice to know who they are.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Z. said. “The real weirdos. God, could you imagine? I think I would strangle Summer if I saw him in real life.”

They tried to get a few more dates but found themself running out of available space. They looked at Hector going around scooping things up with his shields. “Actually, hold still,” they said. Hector did so, and Z. made a quick loop around the six Falinks, checking and double-checking each of them in turn. “Now just, like, walk? Move around a bit?” After that was done too, Z. un-nestled their fruit, concentrated as hard as they could on what they had just seen, and threw themselves into the air in a sick backflip. What came back down was a pretty decent copy of Hector, all things considered. The troopers weren’t going to move from their spot behind the brass, Z. knew that even before trying it, but still. “There,” they said, scooping up the fruit again. “Now it at least looks like I’m carrying more than I am. Should be enough to head back now, huh?”

Hector shook one of his heads. “You’re getting the hang of that whole copycat thing pretty fast,” he said. “I’m only just now starting to get the hang of this whole six-in-one thing I've got going on.” He hefted the weight he was carrying, hoisted as they were atop his shields like little platters. “Should be good to go. Think we've got a pretty decent haul.”

“Cool,” Z. said. “And hey, at least you get to practice just by, you know, being. And I’ve still got a long way to go too. But I’m not going to stop until I get there. Imperfection I can fix like that is just not something I can abide by.” One final laugh. “I guess if you can’t sort yourself out alone, I’ll be there to make sure you do. For now, let’s go back.”

Chris let out a “What? Hey! Whoa!” as Ziun’s rapier entered his peripheral vision, and he adjusted his swing to make absolutely sure he didn’t get hit by it. He’d already had to dodge out of the way of one sharp object fighting this skeleton, what was another? One thing Chris did have to admit, though, it was effective, and Ziun was already apologizing so he couldn’t be too upset about it. “Just say something before you come in next time,” he said. “It’s all good.”

With the skeleton gone, Chris was more able to take in the new surroundings, or, more specifically, his lack of them. He could see Ziun and the mausoleum in the middle, of course, but anything further than that was well and truly obscured. He really hoped one shape behind them was Estellise. It was about where he and Ziun had left the two women, but if it wasn’t her, they had a whole new set of problems on their hands. As it stood, their current set of visible, confirmed problems numbered two -- another zombie and skeleton were headed their way.

If it were any other environment, Chris probably would have charged at the zombie. It was closer, he’d already demonstrated himself able to deal with that sort of undead quickly, and, most importantly, that was what he was used to doing. But no, he wasn’t about to get lost himself. He’d have the fight here.

When the zombie got up to him, his opening swing was already wound up, but because he didn’t have that extra forward momentum attached, it didn’t have as much force behind it as it should have. The zombie just kept moving forward, and Chris was pushed back a step, desperately trying to get his stuck sword all the way through. It was no use, though. He had better things he could be doing. Chris kept one hand on his sword to keep pushing back, but he drew out a dagger to swing with. “Lana!” He called out to the one person he couldn’t see in the meantime. “Just letting you know where I am, Lana. We should try to regroup just- ergh!” He took a hit as the zombie took advantage of his arms being well within swiping distance. “Let me know if you can hear this!” he finished as he stabbed back.

The moment the lights went out, Brian had the flashlight on and ready. He wasn’t about to get got again. He shined it on Carmen first, partially to demonstrate to her that they still had a light source, but also because he wanted to make sure she wasn’t cowering in fear at the first sign of adversity. If the ghost was going to be this aggressive just because they were going through and systematically eliminating all its potential hideaway spots, they needed to both be ready to fight back. Thankfully, she’d just been spooked, she wasn’t completely out of there just yet. But he noticed the flashlight was already running low on juice, or it was flickering like it was. “Typical,” he said. They’d just have to make do.

Now that he was thinking about it, though, it made sense that the flashlight would be affected by a ghost too. It was just as much a light source as the lights in the bathroom and just as shitty too. He took a seal and wrapped it around the flashlight. Whether it worked or was just a placebo, Brian couldn’t tell, but just in case, he left it on.

It meant waving around the light, though, and when it cast over the door to the final toilet stall, Brian saw a hand retreat back into the stall. Even with the light, he had to shift around and face directly into it to even get a hope of seeing what was in there.

This turned out to be a mistake, and the really stupid kind to boot. The ghost was in there -- because who else’s hand would just be floating around the stall? -- and the moment he got a clear look at it, it leaped forward, seized Brian’s shirt, and let out a wail that could rival any banshee. It was so shrill Brian nearly forgot to fight back as it pulled him back towards the toilet and he stumbled forward before he caught himself on the stall door.

“Carmen!” Brian called out, and thankfully she had at least some wherewithal, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back, even if that wasn’t what he wanted. “No! Fuck! Give me a seal!”

He was still flailing a bit, so it was hard to actually get the seal in his hand, but they managed, and as soon as he had it he nearly flung it at the thing. As expected, the ghost retreated to avoid actually getting touched by the seal, but it didn’t disappear into the toilet this time. It was still there.

“Fuck’s sake,” Brian said, still catching his breath. “We’re gonna stick one of these things somewhere. What the fuck do you want, anyway?”

The only thing left to do before beginning their journey proper was for Quinn to actually send their letter, but it turned out the Pokémon Center had a mailbox within its premises, so that was hardly an issue at all. Pretty soon, the three were on their way out of New Point Landing and onto Route One-Oh-One. Quinn knew the weird shape routes could take, herself growing up in the shadow of Mount Coronet and intimately aware of just how easy it was to get lost there, so it was nice to see that the world had deemed they start with an easy one instead. Nathaniel took to it like a phantasm to a new linen sheet, going this way and that, taking in whatever new sight he could. Belladonna, meanwhile, muttered something that Quinn barely caught, and even then…

“Pardon me, Belladonna,” Quinn said from just behind the woman. “You said a word I do not think I recognize. What is a ‘normies?’”

Belladonna shook her head. “If you don’t know what that is, it means you’re a normie.”

It was an odd answer, to be sure, in a self-referential sort of way, but despite everyone telling him he was an old soul (even when they were alive), Quinn was still younger than Belladonna by a significant amount, so she assumed it was simply something people older than xem just suddenly knew at some point. It was that or a piece of knowledge stripped away from you when losing one’s mortality. Quinn knew it still had some of those gaps, so maybe?

Without Nathaniel having run off, Belladonna trudged forward wordlessly, and Quinn continued to follow behind. Cassiopeia, for her part, followed behind the two of them, forming a veritable conga line cutting a swath through the generally already-swathed route. But it was not long before e found emself bored of that, and, after an attempt or two at more exaggerated motions such as swinging her arms back and forth and kicking his legs out like a proper march, they began searching for any excuse to go elsewhere. Cassiopeia was nuzzling against hir back too. One more reason, then.

It was the sight of trainers on patrol that finally got Quinn going. “Oh! Yes! I called dibs! Cassiopeia, follow me!” Not that Cassiopeia needed to be told twice, of course, or even told at all as Quinn seized the balloon by her little string arms and the two went along side by side.

The battle itself, though, left something to be desired. While their opponent’s Pidgey certainly put up a valiant effort, her trainer realized too late that Gust was a flying-type move and was more likely to buffet Cassiopeia than some simple Tackles. Even besides Cassiopeia’s Ghost-type resilience to such efforts, the balloon had no trouble keeping the air around her Gusting and active to avoid a significant amount of damage that way as well. Victory was practically assured from the outset, to go into any further detail would be rude to the losers.

Something else, then. She had just purchased these Poké balls, should they not put a few to use? Before Quinn could even wander into some tall grass to see what it could find, a Rattata jumped out! But it was not the sort to engage in a battle as Quinn (and Cassiopeia, immediately throwing herself in between her trainer and the rat) might expect. The Rattata kept moving without a thought for itself or anything in its way. Suddenly, it was fortuitous that Cassiopeia was now in front of Quinn. If the Rattata was running away from something, both Quinn and Cassiopeia had to be ready.

Unlike the Rattata, neither of them felt any fear. What was the worst thing a predatory Pokémon could do to Quinn, kill him?

Even still, Quinn was not prepared for the pack of Rattata left unconscious further into the brush. Xe even let out a small “Oh!” as ze discovered the clearing with all sorts and sizes of Rattata strewn about. Quinn knelt down and poked one in the stomach. It was still breathing, so that was good. Cassiopeia drifted down and stroked another Rattata’s fur. It was good to see she was taking this as well as she could too. But still, “Who, dear creature,” Quinn asked, “or what, could have done this to all of you?”

Do not be misled: “Bad company corrupts good character.”
-1 Corinthians 15:33 (NIV)

---

Okay, the answer of “connections” was one of the vaguest answers the Spike Brother could have given, but at least it made sense. If they, as Guardians, were famous, getting in contact with them was surely something to be sought after. For a delinquent organization such as the Spike Brothers, getting a hold of their numbers would understandably boil down to “knowing a guy who knows a guy who heard a thing.” Maybe she had to be a little more careful with handing her number out, though she was still unsure when someone might have overheard it in the first place.

Melissa’s preoccupation with this new information almost made her miss the final turns of Fen’s match, but the flashy ritual animation bringing Hungry Burger into play recaptured her attention. If Melissa were the cheering sort, she probably would have, but she settled for as good an applause as she could muster being just one person instead. The fact that Sparks was the decisive card wasn’t enough to dampen things (even as Melissa wondered how she was going to get Fen to cut the card from her deck now), Fen had won her first game! That was cause for celebration enough.

Of course, the continued existence of the Spike Brothers hindered all the celebrating at least a little bit. Spike Brother Seven proved to be just as much a sore loser as Spike Brother Eight was, and the two combined started calling on an unseen boss to enter the picture and really teach Melissa and Fen a lesson. Nobody, especially not Melissa, of course, was going to tell them that after falling from literally throwing a pipe at Sandalphon to challenging its host to a card game, they couldn’t really climb back up to a threatening presence again, but Melissa still braced herself to see what horrible person was waiting for them in their next confrontation.

When it turned out to be Fiona, the woman who they had met just yesterday and had, in fact, offered numbers in her presence, everything clicked into place. Well, not the “Fiona as the leader of the Spike Brothers” part, but she hand-waved that away, so Melissa didn’t question it. And as the explanations further rolled out, Melissa allowed herself some measure of pride. Some was the key word there. “Don’t sell yourself too short, Fen. You’re picking up the game much quicker than I did,” she said. “But yes, it’s not quite the game I remember, slightly different rules and a different name and everything, but it’s more than close enough.”

Fen asked why Fiona had been hiding behind the fountain and sending her lackeys instead of meeting and teaching them herself, to which Fiona’s answer was noncommittal. “Ahaha that’s, ya know it… doesn't really fit my… vibe,” she said.

“I understand completely,” Melissa said. “I probably would have done something similar if I were in your position.” Fiona was braver than Melissa, really. The fountain was such an easy place to be spotted. Melissa would have hidden herself in a bathroom stall and watched a live stream or something, and then refuse to come out until well after everyone had left. “Which is to say, I also accept your apology. Um,” She tried to think of what sort of thing she was supposed to say next, but all that came up was more about this Spike Brother thing. Maybe she hadn’t let it go after all. “So, the Spike Brothers. One of them threw a wrench at me the other day but were they just going to challenge me to Duel Monsters then too?”

The zombie didn’t seem to react much to Chris’ approach (or to anyone else behind him who might be less used to sneaking around) so when Chris got close enough, he went up and chopped its head off. It was surprisingly easy to do so. Distressingly easy, even. Chris immediately looked up and around to try and find what trap had been laid ahead of them.

He saw nothing, though, not through all this stupid fog. The only real difference was the large building up ahead was revealed to be a mausoleum, poking its way through the fog, and just up in front of it, he could see a figure marching around. He pointed his sword at it so the others could see his intent and moved in. It turned out to be a skeleton, and maybe it had been aware of Chris and the rest too, because it already had its sword raised and was ready to strike. 

Down came the sword, but Chris quickly pulled out a dagger with his right hand to block it, and he turned inwards so he could try and cut off the skeleton’s sword arm, an attempt that partially worked. He managed to cut most of the way through the joint, but only too late remembered that he’d needed Estellise’s enchantments to fully cut all the way. He tried to find her behind him to try and give her some silent, pleading eyes, but she was hard to make out amongst everything, and with an active enemy right in front of him, he couldn’t look too hard.

He did see more figures in the distance, though, up ahead and ahead to the right. “Don’t go too far,” he said, “but look out, there are more coming in. I’m, uh -” He returned his attention to the skeleton just in time to catch it lashing out with its other hand, its fingers sharpened into a claw, almost like it had an off-hand dagger of its own. He spun back out to avoid the thrust and returned to a neutral fighting stance. “I’m a little busy,” he finished saying. “But I can handle it. Come here, you. You know how many undead we had to fight just to get here?” He took aim at another joint -- one of the knees this time -- and swung in.

Thirds!

The offer to surrender was a weird one when Arcturus was pretty sure she was winning, or, at least, not losing. Override had managed to hit her, what, like twice? And one of those was a glancing blow at best while she was distracted between splinters flying everywhere and catching a glimpse of Aeon delivering the mother of all beatdowns to Vambrace. Could she have saved him? Maybe forced her way through the splinters and pull Aeon off of him? No, she wasn’t going to think like that. Not right now.

As for the question that was worth answering, “Let me tell you something about Caesar,” Arcturus said, pronouncing her gang leader’s name exactly how one might expect. “Everything he does has a singular goal behind it: the accumulation of power. Sometimes he accumulates power by making people wait an extra few hours for a meeting, sometimes he does it by declaring war on the whole city. It’s all the same to him.

“But here’s a big secret. I had to figure this out for myself; I don’t even think that Bitch down there knows. Hellhound, sorry. Inside joke. But Caesar: There’s no ulterior motive for what he does. It’s all power for power’s sake. That’s it. Call it what you want. You can call it sad, you can call it immature, but it’s the truth. What’s he want with the Archangel? Hallowed be her name? Fucked if I know. But if you want me to guess, it’s probably just holding someone like her increases his prestige.”

Arcturus started maneuvering around the sky again, letting off more balls of energy that hung lazily in the air as she did so. “Before you ask, I don’t mind,” she said. “If anything, I think knowing all this gives me a little power over him too.”

She turned to face Override once more. “All this to say, it’s nothing personal,” she said. “We’re all just trying to get by.” With that, she formed one final bean which she aimed square at Override’s chest.

---

“I’m sorry about Damian,” Censer whispered while she and Hellhound were in the middle of the smoke.

“He’s fine.” Hellhound was much louder, and there was no hint of worry in their voice. “I would know if he wasn’t fine. Can she hear us in this?”

“Probably. I was focused more on the visual and the physical than blocking out sound, though I could try to do more if I had more time.”

“You don’t have more time,” Hellhound said, now making it clear they didn’t care whether Sibyl could hear them or not. “If she’s smart enough, she’ll probably just squeeze her way in -- probably already is, actually -- so we make do with what we have.” They reached into their bag and pulled out a small device, just about the size of a tennis ball. Their voice lowered to a whisper as they described their plan. “So, she’s got the range advantage on us, so we close in, you use enough smoke to block but not enough to get in the way, and when you can, try and get some on her head so she can’t see or even get out of the cloud quickly. On my mark…”

Censer sounded worried. “Doesn’t that-”

“Yeah, this is going to hurt,” Hellhound said. “It is what we have, though. Mark!”

As they called out their signal, the ball let out a flash of light that pierced even through Censer’s black smoke and, with a “FWUMPH” sound, expelled both the smoke in the area and disrupted Sibyl’s surrounding limb. Hellhound winced but quickly recovered to charge Sibyl, and though Censer took a little longer, she fell in behind all the same.

---

Finally, Lailah was finally able to manifest one of her angels, a standard archangel wielding an equally standard longsword replacing one of her little orbs of light. The angel took a few swings at Lucky Cat as Lailah pulled herself back to her feet. Unfortunately, the angel was just as affected by Lucky Cat’s aura as everything else, and though luck was returning to normal, certain factors such as increased gravity still lingered, and the sword strokes were not as strong nor as precise as they could have. Lucky Cat dodged them with ease.

“You’re running out of time, you know,” Lucky Cat said. “We weren’t expecting you to have guests, let alone capes, but I’ve got some Legion on me all the same. If Caesar’s paying attention, he’ll already have sent more people to help. And if those don’t work, he’ll send some more. And some more.” Her aura changed again and suddenly she and Lailah had switched places, narrowly causing the angel’s sword to strike its mistress, though it managed to catch itself in time. “It’s purely a numbers game. If I were you, and I somehow managed to get away from all this, I’d get out of here as soon as possible. Run somewhere and hide and never peek your head out again. Sure, I guess that means the end of your religion and therefore the world or whatever, but it’s a small price to pay to -”

“No!” Lailah shouted. And with that burst of willpower, the angel disappeared and from her other orb of light came forth a six-winged being. It covered its eyes with two of its wings, its feet with two more, and only flew with the other two, hovering inches off the ground. “No,” Lailah said again, calmer this time. She was finally on her feet once again. “You will not have me.” Her new angel removed its wings covering its eyes, and from those eyes, it fired a beam of pure light that struck Lucky Cat square in the chest and sent her flying all the way to the back wall.

Now it was Lucky Cat’s turn to pull herself back up, but she did so with a smile on her face. “Ahh, now things get to be interesting, huh?”

---

OOC