radio414

All This I Do For Glory “It’s alright,” the Archangel Lailah said. “These things can always be rebuilt. There are crews, artisans who can restore everything to its original state if you pay them well enough, and I am sure that the Church could find the necessary funds if asked politely. I hear there is even a woman who can reshape whole buildings to her liking now, though I believe she is currently a Gibbon if I remember correctly.” “I wouldn’t go speaking even more ill of Babs,” Lucky Cat, the woman who had burst in behind everybody, said. “She’s already panicked hearing about that shitty mural last week… feeling threatened… nearly inconsolable. If she starts to worry more, won’t be able to be held responsible for our actions.” Lucky Cat had taken a spot in one of the nearby pews and had propped up her feet, clearly not taking any of this all that seriously, though a closer inspection revealed that she was generating a dreadful sort of aura, expanding outwards from her and increasing at a noticeable pace. “Alright,” Lailah said. “Well, I am sure it doesn't mean anything, but you have my apologies. For both this and what happens after.” She raised her voice and mirrored what Thessa had just proclaimed. “Carol, my friend, perhaps it would be best to get the Union on the line? And stay right there, it may get a little hectic.” Not that Sibyl probably needed to see it, but The Fates had sent her a slew of messages as well. sup gamerrrr hey just to let you know got an all hands on deck thing going on at goodale so you know bring all four hands or as many hands as you cna manage these days lol see you soon bestie *can It may have been for the best if she didn’t see it, since Hellhound and Censer were already charging in. Censer threw down another layer of smoke and Hellhound and she burst through it once again. The two were almost upon the group, now. Hellhound’s little dog was running alongside them, though “little” was becoming less and less of an accurate descriptor. The beast that used to just be carried around in a satchel of sorts was now waist-height, and had grown a few extra appendages out of its back that had what looked like feelers at the end of them. The dog was starting to look more like a cat, too, and it was still changing, growing bigger still. The biggest worry for the four in the middle, though, was Arcturus. She had risen back up into the air, hands in front of her stomach, between which she had developed a little ball of wind, a little gust of energy, and, when she was satisfied, she sent it into the middle of the group. It was not aimed at anybody in particular -- that wasn’t the point of it. The point was to separate them all, a force- a shunting that drove the four capes apart, one in each direction. Victor to the east -- her way -- the Archangel northward towards Lucky Cat, Sibyl down towards Censer and Hellhound, and Thessa westward away from her towards Vambrace who was charging up the machines on his wrist and ready to strike. OOC

It hurt to breathe, but in a different way from, say, a broken rib or some other physical ailment that Chris had experienced before. It hurt to breathe because it took energy to breathe, and he had lost a lot of it just then. Thankfully, there weren’t many things left out to kill them, even if one of those things had proven to be the hardest thing to kill thus far. Chris wondered how good Estellise was good at healing magical damage. He hoped it was easier, like, good magic just cancelled out the negative stuff. That made sense to him, at least. The thing that he had to deal with in the meantime was the spectral hand floating toward him. He stabbed it with his sword. The sword passed right through the hand, though, crawling up through the blade like it wasn’t even there. Chris almost let out an annoyed chuckle at that, but managed to contain it before it turned into a coughing fit. He stepped back and tried a few more times, just in case it was just a one-time deal or something, but no such luck. The hand wasn’t about to be stopped by anything Chris had up his sleeve. He looked to one side, and there was a cultist stabbing Lana in the arm, but it was casting magic still so maybe- wait, no, that first thing was more important. Lana had just taken a dagger to the arm, and was in severe danger of taking another. Even in the state that he was in, he had to try. It felt like he was running in slow motion, and he had to get around the hand still locked onto his position, but he wasn’t that far gone. He had his sword arm outstretched, even if he couldn’t manage an actual thrust, at least he could let his momentum carry once he started going.

“There is something strange about me? What do you mean? We all die, do we not?”

Z. stared at Hector like the Falinks had grown a third eye, or a thirteenth eye, as the case may be. It wasn’t that they were unused to receiving compliments or thanks (even if the whole “Pokémon” thing meant they couldn’t remember times they had), but Z. hadn’t woken up the Jirachi for anyone else but themselves. They certainly weren’t doing it to save a washed-up ex-mod who had run into them and pressed them against a wall only a few hours earlier. Being right about everything had put them in a good mood, though, so they didn’t do more than that. “Yeah,” they said. Hearing the Jirachi’s voice was where things started to sour. It was a sing-song sort of voice and it talked in a way that implied it wasn’t about to take responsibility for any trouble it caused -- past, present, or future. It was also the sort of thing Z. just knew would be transcribed with a little tilde at the end, just to make sure everyone knew exactly how to read it as if actual god-given adjectives and learning how to write a proper patter weren’t enough tools already. For one particular sporking, Z. wrote, “The author has placed a marker in the dialog letting you know that this character is practically singing their lines. Unfortunately, like the character, the song only has one note.” Healing everyone was a first step toward getting over some of that, but Z. was pretty sure they could do that too now if they tried, so they just found the associated spectacle unnecessary. And things just kept going wrong. Z. had still been ruminating on Jirachi’s non-forgiveness, responding to a potential apology from Z. that would never come when Es decided to continue the introductions -- when Es decided to reveal to the world that she didn’t actually know Z.’s name. “My pal Zed,” Es said. “Zeddy here.” Okay. So. It was probably unhealthy, or at least said something about Z. that they saw so much red now instead of during one of their several fights, both as a Pokémon and as a human, but see red they did. Old forum drama came to mind. Four months after coming out as nonbinary, Z. had announced their name change, which reignited the drama that had flared up when they’d actually come out. It didn’t need to be relitigated here. They didn’t need to think about it again, but they’d had to fight for their name. They didn’t remember doing it in their human life, but they could feel it in their bones. It translated into a different sort of Z. than they had been the past few hours. They were quieter and more deliberate as they spoke. “Cute trick,” they said, looking straight ahead -- not at Es or Jirachi or anyone else, “pre-empting me, saying I give out insults as a sort of compliment, daring me to respond with something else. I do threaten and insult a lot. Maybe they lose their effectiveness with each new jab. Sure. Alright. I’ll work with that.” They turned to Es and looked the Rotom square in the eye, catching her at the end of one of her zips. “Starting now, I will mean what I say. I will be exact, so you know if I say I’m going to hurt you, I am going to hurt you. My name is Z. It’s spelled with a z and then a period after that. If I ever hear you say otherwise again, I will seize upon you, find your asshole, and demonstrate why most things with a head like yours need a flared base. If you don’t have an asshole on account of being a ghost or whatever, I will give you one with my own claws.”

what do you mean it's not summer yet

“Bestie?” Z. repeated the word once for every time someone said it to them. “Bestie?” Where was this coming from? They and Es had hung out, like, twice, maybe three times maximum, and one of those times was still tainted by Es not getting Z.’s sick reference. Even if Z. was charitable, that wasn’t really “bestie” material. The only other way it would work in Z.’s mind was if they’d had some sort of banter going on the forums since that was the only other point of memory, but Z. was pretty active and they were sure that, whoever Es was, she really hadn’t been. So they weren’t besties and they hadn’t been besties. Those two matters were settled, then. The only other thing Z. could think of, aside from a jest (and Es didn't seem like the type to jest about this, it was either earnestness or a mistake) was that it was a claim about the future. They and Es were going to be besties. While Z. liked that sort of confidence and had seen how Es was receptive to some of Z.’s advice, Z. still felt like they needed a bit more before they could say the same, and floundering against a sleeping Pokémon wasn’t going to cut it. It felt like a meme. “The fuck are they doing over there?” Aside from the bestie drama, Hector had been reduced to just an H, and Chester, the actual mod of the group, alternated between hitting Jirachi and arguing with Marv. Every fight they got into seemed to devolve into a mess, really, like, Z. didn’t know what was going on when they were asleep, but they figured if the fight had gone well in their absence, they probably would have woken up in the dungeon and kept going through that instead of waking up in some abandoned arboreal paradise. And when they put it like that, well, that just meant they’d have to whip everyone into shape later, but it also gave them a reason to respond to Es’ call for help without reinforcing narratives that were a bit more aspirational than others. They left the Clobbopus with a “Seriously, go jump in a lake, and not, like, ‘go jump in a lake’ like ‘you’re pissing me off,’ go jump in a lake like ‘immerse yourself in water like the octopus you are until every last dirt molecule has been excised from your body.’ Scrub if you have to. I guess I’ve gotta go deal with this.” With that, they wheeled around and made their way past Marv and Chester, to a spot close to Es and especially close to the Jirachi. “How do you not know how to wake someone up?” Z. said. “Don’t get the wrong idea, your way was just the closest.” They channeled all their effort into replicating the burst of energy -- and burst of noise -- that Es had produced, and leaped up. When they were right next to the Jirachi’s ear, Z. screamed, “Hey, you little off-brand funko pop! You had a movie suck twenty years ago and decided to take it out on the only Pokémon who might know about that shit, huh?! If you’re going to pull a star command joke and then be asleep at the wheel the moment we pop out, why don’t you make like your shapesake and go burn up in the mesosphere?! At least then you’d cause a little bit of joy before you go!” That did it. Whether because of the action or the actual words being spoken, the Jirachi stirred and actually blinked a few times. Even if it wanted to go back to sleep, it had already let the light of a tropical midday into its eyes. Z. landed back on the ground with a healthy amount of satisfaction; they couldn’t help but grin at their success. “That’s how it’s done,” they said.

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. -Psalm 32:8 (NIV)Thankfully, the starter decks came with a little rulebook explaining the rules, so Melissa wasn’t left completely helpless in the teaching process. Also helpful was discovering a little app on their watches that could replicate any sort of dueling field they wanted, whether that was just a playmat with all the little zones labeled (though without any pendulum zones or extra monster zones, Melissa noticed) or replicating an actual duel disk. had little AR elements that made the monsters pop out of the cards, which was flashy, but Melissa worried they were distracting when actually going through a teach. Problems arose, though, when the Duel Monsters in Melissa’s head contradicted what was actually in front of her. There were a bunch of little inconsistencies that Melissa was sure wouldn’t have flown in her world, little bits of card text that were just a little off. Sure, she wasn’t the most skilled player on Ambrosia -- she wasn’t even the best player in Blue Yonder, not by a long shot -- but even she could tell. The four thousand life points instead of eight was one thing, but the first player getting a draw step? That one really threw her for a loop. Melissa wasn’t a game designer. She had no desire to ever be a game designer. But it still felt like a violation of some principle. People wanted to go first even without the extra card, why add that in? And speaking of extra cards, the starter deck she had bought came with forty-five in the main deck so she had to take a little extra time finding which of the dozen or so normal monsters were actually worth keeping to slim it down to a proper forty. The rest of the deck seemed interesting with some cute synergies already provided, but she didn’t really have the time to learn them at the moment. In any case, the aids made teaching Fen go faster than it could have, and even then, well… “Normal Summoning is just playing the monster. You put it into play or Set it, though if it’s a higher level it takes one or two tributes to do so. You get one of those per turn,” Melissa said. She wasn’t frustrated, but there was still a hint in her tone that she had explained this before. “Cards will tell you how to Special Summon something, and most of the time that will be face up and oriented how you like, but some cards will say otherwise. And Ritual Summoning is a type of Special Summoning and is how you summon these blue cards here --” she pointed at Hungry Burger again “-- and cards like this with the little campfire symbol will tell you how to do those. Depending on the card, you can cheat that a bit, but the game wants you to do it like that. Otherwise, things get even more complicated.” “Oh, hm. I see.” Fen nodded her head, trying to take in the information. Thinking on it for a moment, she looked at her cards saying, “You know, there are a uh, lot more ways to Special Summon than Normal Summon, right? Doesn't that make the Normal Summon feel more Special?” “I like to think of it like this:” Melissa said, “Any monster- uh, almost any monster can be Normal Summoned. It takes a special effect to make a Special Summon.” Fen looked at the two ritual cards laid out in front of her. “Hm, I guess it does take more effort to bring them,” she said. She smiled. “Thanks, Melissa. I think I'm starting to get the hang of these terms.” Melissa smiled back. “You’re very welcome. I’m sure you’ll have more questions, but that should just about cover things. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”They did have to go somewhere eventually, though. Melissa and Fen made sure Bradley wasn’t lurking around anywhere before leaving the card store, and, after making sure they didn’t have anything else that needed doing in the megamall, they went over to the park with the fountain. Melissa still remembered crossing that threshold the first time and having the park literally disappear behind her back. The fact that it was an ordinary park when not welcoming people stolen from other worlds was surprising to her, though perhaps not as surprising as finding it clearly used but abandoned. Everywhere Melissa looked, there were signs of people, and yet there were no Pranans (Pranese? Pranians?) to be found. She was about to ask if there was a bingo event or something they were missing when the Spike Brothers appeared. “Oh no,” Melissa whimpered. She had just gotten used to being “known,” but there were still people she didn’t want to “know” about her, and that list included the gang that had harassed her on her first day. She almost let Sandalphon out to scare them off once again, but a few things stopped her. The first reason was that these Spike Brothers didn’t actually recognize her, they just seemed to recognize the idea of her. “Fresh fish without a clue in the world,” one had said, missing any of the “freak” rhetoric that she still remembered so vividly. So her immediate fear was assuaged. The second reason was, well, with those fears gone, she was left with a confused sort of curiosity. How did the Spike Brothers get her number? How did they get Fen’s when they definitely hadn’t met her? She wasn’t sure the Spike Brothers were the sort of people who would answer questions like that, but it was still a thread she was willing to pull. Lastly, well, this was what she was taught back on Ambrosia. The reason she learned how to duel in the first place was because dueling was so ingrained as a replacement for physical violence. It was better for everyone to settle things with a card game like this. Even with all these new and terrifying things, this was the one thing familiar to her now. She’d been challenged to a duel, and the consequences for declining a challenge were worse than just going along. Melissa looked at Fen with a sheepish, calming sort of smile. “This is a bit more live fire than I was hoping,” she said. “But, um, it’s a good thing we downloaded that watch app, I guess? Here, let me-” She helped Fen make sure her duel disk app was set up right and reminded her how it all worked. “The monsters will be bigger than the ones in the store, but they’ll still be fake,” she said. “Probably. Um. At the very least, it shouldn’t be worse than anything we’ve seen already. Remember, I’ll be right next to you, too, if you run into any other questions, okay?”

first ten seconds 7/10 rest of the song also 7/10 it turns outOP Suggestion: once again king gizzard and the lizard wizard are putting out a new album gila gila gila gila gila gila gila monster 7.5/10

God, he needed to smoke. Or he needed to munch on some sunflower seeds or… Fuck, he needed something! Brian kept his hands balled in his pockets as he paced around outside. It beat checking the contents of the van for the twentieth time. Yes, there was more stuff in it that could potentially be useful when facing off all manner of ghosts, but Brian couldn’t actually think of anything worth using and Carmen had largely been unhelpful, preferring to stay silent and watch as he fumbled around. He wondered what Ms. White was thinking, too, if she could even manage to look up from her rosary or whatever she was doing locked in the office like that. When Carmen asked her question, Brian’s immediate reaction was, “Holy shit, you’re talking,” but it was a good enough question to get him to actually answer instead of just brushing it off there. “I guess there are a lot of reasons for a ghost to be in a school restroom, though I’ve never been a ghost so I can’t give any one answer from experience,” he said. “Could be she particularly hated school, could be school was the only place she felt comfortable and she fled here even in death and just needs to take a fucking ghost chill pill. Maybe the reason she’s in both bathrooms is a gender thing, though I definitely don’t have any experience with that. You want to ask her?” He stuck a thumb back towards the van. “There’s probably a ouija board in there if we look again and if there isn’t we can jerry-rig one up. Wouldn’t be too hard. Maybe a spirit box too if we should be so lucky.” He wasn’t pacing anymore, at least. Now he was stretching, locking one elbow in another and twisting his body around. It was kind of better. “The other option would be to, like, I dunno, the ghost looks like a normal person except no face where the face should be, so that’s only two arms to grab you with. One person could keep her busy while the other one seals her up, I guess. It does mean one of us is going to have to be a pervert, though. Just this once.” Another, stupider thought came to mind, and he laughed in spite of himself. “Or we could just bonk her. She felt real enough in there, maybe it just takes a good flashlight shot to the head.”

seems like a fun song to play in front of a crowd and some of the guitar really tickled my "that's a good sound" nerve 7/10 8/10 yeah squarepusher's pretty coolfucked up has been teaming up with the halluci nation (formerly a tribe called red) which to me is like combining chocolate and peanut butter 8.5/10

“You know, I just fought guys like you the other day,” Chris said. His encounter with the Kalo family goons had been what, yesterday? Two days ago? It was hard to keep track of when the dungeon magically reset the day when they left it. “Back then, it was three of them at once, and now here, I just have to focus on the one.” At least this cultist knew how to shut up. That was appreciated. Like, even if it was waving a dagger around and gesturing wildly in a way that suggested magic, at least it wasn’t telling him to know his place or anything like that. They were almost on equal ground. When they fired off their beam, Chris dropped to the ground, and as the magic sailed over his head, he kicked the cultist’s legs out from under them, so they really were on equal ground then. Chris recovered first by virtue of expecting it, and scrambled to his feet only to fall on the cultist again, driving his sword into their chest. There was a problem, though. Technically, there were two problems, but both of them stemmed from the fact that the cultist wasn’t quite dead yet and someone looming over you was a hell of a target. Dodging the wild dagger stabs was easy enough, but he was so focused on that he didn’t notice the approaching, more ethereal hand until it was too late and had already grabbed him. Chris wanted to strike back, but he suddenly didn’t have the energy to do so. More magic, just without the rays. “Cheap trick,” Chris mumbled. Still, if he was going to fall over, at least he could try to fall over in a way where he could pin the cultist’s dagger-arm to the ground and let his own sword fall in for another stab.

Z. regarded the stream in a sort of mock disbelief. “Everywhere we go, more water, huh?” they said. “There’s always something in the way.” They didn’t try swimming in it; the current looked a bit too fast and the consequences of getting swept out to sea were a bit too dangerous for a Zorua still getting used to their body, but they did go up and stick their paw in it just to test it all the same. It was cold, but it was a different sort of cold than the stream they had swum through in the dungeon. It wasn’t uncomfortable, either, probably because it was so fucking hot! Who knew that being covered toe-to-tip in fox fur was a real damper on a body that was supposed to self-regulate its temperature? Still, the existence of one wet paw with a dry rest of the body also wasn’t ideal, and Z. dried it again, alternating between shaking it wildly and rubbing it in the streamside grass before returning to the water and pondering it some more. The whole experience reminded them of another moment early in the cave, after drying off, yes, but how they recalled the appearance of a wet Zorua while arguing with the Clobbopus. Yes, they’d also failed at imitating said Clobbopus right after, but the only point of dwelling on that memory was cringing on it later after they’d figured this shit out. They still had to focus on what worked. They stared down at their reflection and tried to pull that memory out again, of actually swimming, of water still hanging onto their fur as they pulled themselves out on the other side. It was hard to tell if it worked by sight alone -- The stream didn’t provide the best reflective surface, what with all the rushing water in the way -- but that feeling returned, and now that they were by themselves, they could actually analyze what that feeling meant. It was a weird one, to be sure. Z. simultaneously felt soaked and not-soaked at the same time, or maybe it was just that they felt the water but knew it was fake. Little globules of water fell off their fur and disappeared in the grass. It also didn’t require as much mental upkeep as they expected, like, there was the initial effort, yeah, and there was still some maintenance, but if someone asked them to rub their stomach and pat their head at the same time, they could probably manage. Still, being able to be “a wetter version of themself” wasn’t wholly useful at the moment, so Z. switched to trying to remember an actual Pokémon. Of the Pokémon they had encountered thus far, they settled on Treeko, and closed their eyes. Even before they opened them, they knew something was wrong, and opening them again just confirmed it. “That looks more like a Froakie,” they said. Even in their ever-morphing reflection the water provided, they could tell that much at least. “And a really shitty one at that.” But it was still progress -- Z. felt good about that. They’d have to take a better look at things to see what they could pull from now. Speaking of paying more attention, Z. was just able to hear all the clamor over by the Jirachi, including at least two attacks and they rolled their eyes. “I know beating things unconscious is how Pokémon are supposed to interact with the world,” Z. said, “but how are you planning to do that to a Pokémon that’s already unconscious?” No, they wouldn’t be participating in that little scuffle. At the same time, there wasn’t really any more to glean just hanging out by the water, so they made their way back over to the Noibat. Clobbopus was also there, an impressive decision by him given how much of a fool he’d made of himself a few floors down. That said, he was talking about Jirachi being legendary, which gave Z.’s pedantry a free opening. “Isn’t Jirachi a mythical Pokémon, not a legendary one?” Z. said. “Totally different thing, right? There’s more water that way, if you’re curious. Freshwater, I mean. Maybe you could use it to clean yourself off or something. Jeeezus, you’re dirty.” They looked up at the Noibat too. “Hey, Ears, how’s the weather? Get a load of all this.”

Paradisi Gloria Lailah was feeling pretty good, all things considered. The implicit threat of violence against her person or the church she was staying at had not entirely gone away, but at least Sibyl was focused on other things now. Things could swing back the other way at any moment, Lailah thought, but she could keep talking and keep things engaged. The existence of two other capes in the room ostensibly on her side (they were from G3, after all) who she was helping accomplish a mission of their own also bolstered her confidence. Her power, represented by those little balls of light, probably betrayed that to an extent, but they were ever-wary and responded to the slightest twinge in her emotional state anyway. Capricious little things. She adored them. “What’s the saying?” she said. “Power corrupts? Or is it the desire for power that corrupts people? It’s difficult to tell when so many people can do so many different things, I suppose.” A new voice echoed through the church. “Oh dear. It looks like we’re interrupting something.” The speaker was just inside the church entrance: Hellhound, complete with her cup-sized dog still poking out of their bag. Lailah looked at the three capes around her. Did they know about Hellhound? Surely at least by reputation, right? Hellhound also surveyed the church’s occupants, and their eyes stopped on Sibyl. “I see Caesar isn’t the only one with a sense of humor when it comes to shaking down the church,” they said with a wry grin. “And it’s lucky for us, too, since we’ve got a bone to pick with you, demon girl.” “Us?” Lailah said. She knew Hellhound was attached to their dog but she thought it was a “singular unit” sort of relationship, like when they said “I” their canine companion was implied to be included in that statement. In that sense, they were alone. As if on cue, the stained glass on all four arms of the church shattered simultaneously as four more Gibbons members crashed through. Two of them, the one coming in near the entrance -- near Hellhound -- and the one coming through the glass depicting the fight over the sun managed a well-executed roll to avoid serious damage, while the other two flanking them all to the left and right did more of a swoop before lowering themselves to the ground under their own power. There were five of them now. “Archangel Lailah,” Hellhound said, “by order of Scarlet City’s new hegemon, Caesar of the Gibbons Gang, you are to step down as leader of the Apostles effective immediately.” And maybe it was the pride and confidence of just a few minutes ago still coursing through her veins, but Lailah’s answer was immediate: “No.” OOC

THE VOID A PLAY IN ONE ACT CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY Z. C-ko Moderators of Yanma’s Custom Monsters forum Girls of the Chorus THE VOID was originally performed at the Kashira Shadow Playhouse as part of the PMDUOS event on the evening of June 2, 2023. SCENE Z. is alone on an empty stage. Z.: Oh, what fresh hell is this? Is this even allowed? Fuck, you would think I’d have been granted the decency of being free from extra bullshit at this point. Okay, no, I would have accepted one of two things happening when I fell asleep: The dungeon bullshit would have been all a dream and I’d just wake up to a normal life, or my subconscious would pull from memories my conscious mind could not, and I could get desperate flashes of another me that doesn’t exist anymore. But this is neither. I’m still a Zorua, though. Fuck me. [They move to the front of the stage] Hey, anyone watching this? No? Typical. Stage lights dim, save a lone spotlight center stage, where Z. was just standing. Z. (turning around): No. [The spotlight reluctantly moves to where Z. is now. Z. turns back around] (Sound Cue #1) Z.: I guess I do remember some things. It’s dumb forum drama, because of course it is, but a forum update made YCM’s mod forum available to the general user base. It got fixed, but basically, any sort of gossip anyone could get their hands on got posted to the miscellaneous forum. The posters got banned and the threads were deleted pretty quickly, but some people’s download buttons were even faster. The voices of the YCM MODERATORS recount their posts from offstage Moderator 1: Oh my God would Zeta just shut up? Moderator 2: Decides they're a they now and makes it their whole personality lmao Moderator 1: Not even that just like... I’ll dock them for calling Summer a bitch ass-cunt or whatever and that’ll put them on their best behavior for a bit but then the warning points go away and they’re back on their bullshit again. Moderator 3: Summer is a bitch ass-cunt to be fair Moderator 1: That’s besides the point.[trails off] Z.: That was a fun two weeks. It all got derailed into some bullshit about mod transparency that went nowhere, and I never got an apology or anything, but I wasn’t really asking for one. The point was, for a hot second there, everyone was on my side. And the thing about people being on your side, they tend to question you a lot less. (Sound Cue #2) The spotlight dims to a barely-noticeable circle on the floor and the back wall of the stage is illuminated. Z.: What now? (Sound Cue #3) The shadow of C-KO appears crossing the back wall from right to left and back again. She is carrying a gramophone. C-ko: Extra! Extra! The CHORUS is represented by more shadows cast on the back wall in the shape of accusatory finger-pointing. C-KO no longer has her gramophone, and her clothing shifts as the accusations continue. This would make sense in, like, a shooting script instead of a stageplay but technically this is neither -- it’s a dream sequence -- so you figure it out. Chorus Girl 1: Aha! You’ve got fox paws for hands. You’re not human, you’re a foxgirl! C-ko: Nope! I’m a human! These are just gloves -- it’s getting kind of cold. Chorus Girl 2: Aha! You’ve got hooves for feet. You’re not human, you’re a horsegirl! C-ko: I see why you’d think that, but these are just very fashionable shoes. They’re all the rage in Paris. Chorus Girl 3: Aha! You’ve got rabbit ears. You’re not human, you’re a bunnygirl! C-ko: No! No! These are just, uh, wearable antennae for my phone so I can get better reception. I promise I’m human! Z: Why do you want to be human so badly? C-ko: [screams] CURTAIN After a dream that felt like it could have lasted either five minutes or nine months, Z. woke up in an entirely new place with no sign of the conflict that had rendered them comatose in the first place. On the one hand, they were glad to not be fighting anymore, especially with the embarrassing showing that had gotten them put to sleep in the first place, but, on the other hand, that Cleffa had something coming to them, and Z. wanted to be the one to do it. There was a zero percent chance that they were ever going to see that particular Cleffa ever again, so their frustration was entirely empty, which really made it all even worse. Their Oran Berry was missing too, a crime that had too many mundane explanations (it fell out somewhere, someone needed it in an emergency, that fucking Cleffa took it) to really blame anyone currently present, so that only compounded everything. “Fuck,” Z. said for want of anything else to say. Almost everyone else was crowding some other Pokémon that was sleeping nearby. Z. couldn’t remember the exact specifics, but they were pretty sure that most anyone would be mad if they woke up to a sudden horde of people clamoring for attention, especially if one of those people looked like he was six people. It was a Jirachi too, so it had the power to back that anger up. Even Es the Rotom had gone over to pester the thing, and Z. had been pretty sure that if any of them were going to wait for them to wake up and cheer when it happened, it was her. Z. huffed and pulled themself to their feet. It felt incredibly natural to do that downward-facing dog to upward-facing dog yoga stretch thing, but it felt weird that it felt natural, if that made sense. Like, it made sense that it felt normal, but- “It doesn’t really matter,” Z. said. It was kind of to that and the previous thought wrapped all into one. Of all the humans-turned-Pokémon, Ears the Noibat had the right idea. If the Jirachi was going to be helpful, it was going to be helpful regardless of whether it was being pestered with an extra meaningless question. Of course, Ears was better at getting a view from higher up, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do the same thing, but on the ground. “I’m going this way,” Z. said, pointing in the opposite direction the Noibat was looking.

While all the people were listening, Jesus said to his disciples, “Beware of the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.” -Luke 20:45-47 (NIV)Melissa found herself awash with nostalgia. There were many such stores back home on Ambrosia, most of them more Duel-Monsters focused than this one seemed to be what with its figurines and comics and such, but the aesthetic was still all the same. Everything was just a bit cramped and the light was just a bit too artificial. She inhaled through her nose, though, and immediately regretted it. That was a difference. In a world where just about everyone had to visit a store like this at one point in their life or another, everyone at least had the decency to shower first. Not so here. If she had to describe it (and she really didn’t want to think about the smell for longer than it took to get it out of her system), it was like sweat, peaches, and onions. Somehow, the combination of those three things was worse than any of them individually. It was the sort of thing that immediately made Melissa want to turn around and find another store, but something told her that all stores would be like this. This was just how it was here. Also, she was with Fen, and she didn’t want to drag her friend and squad leader around searching for some imagined ideal. This was just something she would have to deal with. Anyway, Fen had asked her a question. “I guess we go to the counter?” Melissa said. “It looks like there are cards there, we can get a closer look at them, or maybe they have packs or starter decks behind the counter.” There was a little rustling from some faraway shelf which Melissa heard but tried to ignore. Talking with whoever was running the shop about recommendations was going to be a hard enough challenge as it was. Misplaced nostalgia, breathing, talking, being a good friend… The obstacles had increased dramatically since Melissa had stepped into the store. Much of that went away, though, when she got a good look at the cards in question. “Oh, this is Duel Monsters,” she said. The way she said it the first time was in a way like she didn’t really believe it, like she hadn’t quite processed what that meant. It took a second utterance for it to actually take hold. “Oh,” she said. “This is Duel Monsters.” “Fen, this is the game I was telling you about,” Melissa said. Even though she was crouched down in front of the case she was visibly bouncing up and down with excitement. All these cards with font sizes that made words barely legible, she could read them. It was like a whole extra language class was unlocked. And this was for a game she barely played! Just being born and raised in a culture that sorted itself primarily through card play was enough. So it was nostalgia again, but it was of a different kind. “Yeah, I can definitely show you how to play this.” Her eyes finally noticed the price tags attached to the singles. “Wait, Graceful Charity costs how much here?” “Excuuuse me.” Melissa shot straight up. It was the same sort of feeling she’d had when Julian surprised her, only this time she’d just managed to keep Zadkiel from appearing and wrecking the store with its size alone. She almost dared not turn around, eventually only doing so out of a sense of politeness. Describing the speaker required processing him for longer than Melissa could stand. He had a hat Melissa couldn’t describe, a sweatshirt with faces on it she definitely didn’t want to think about, a voice that had already had a negative effect on her, and, as he got even closer, she noticed that the store’s pungent odor had gotten even stronger. And yet, he persisted. Worse, he persisted by mangling a perfectly good poem. “And what should my wandering ear but a-hear,” he said, “but the voice of a lovely, female dear,” A snort. He actually snorted. “Or two dears, as the case may be.” He took one final step forward, and Melissa pressed her back against the counter as if it would give her any extra distance between herself and the stench. “I don’t mean any trouble, but did I hear you call the greatest card game of all time ‘Duel Monsters?’” “Um,” Melissa said. She wasn’t sure what else she could say to that. “I’m a nice person by nature,” he said with a leering smile that was anything but nice, “so when I hear a grossly unfactual statement such as that, I can’t help but correct it. It’s only called ‘Duel Monsters’ in the show, you see. All real fans know that in real life it is named after the show itself: ‘Yu-Gi-Oh!’” Melissa. Of all the times for the angels to speak up, this was not a great one. We cannot help but notice your heart rate has spiked dramatically. Do you need us to- “No,” Melissa muttered. “I know.” It was unfortunate that she said it out loud because it meant he heard it too. “You know? Well, if you know the objective truth, why would you say otherwise? People might think you’re talking about some other game, like ‘Duel Masters,’ which, as we all know, had to be renamed because of this exact problem. Here:” He pulled a pen and a piece of paper from the pocket of his sweatshirt and scribbled on it. “If you ever want to know more about the greatest game in teh world that is Yu-Gi-Oh! give me a call. We can talk about it among… other things.” “Hey!” It was another voice, this one coming from behind her, and it was mercifully normal-sounding. Another benefit to the new voice, as soon as the man heard it, whatever color his face had instantly disappeared. He flicked the paper Melissa’s way and didn’t even watch to see if she stopped it from fluttering to the ground (she didn’t) as he awkwardly shuffled out of the store and disappeared into the crowd. Melissa exhaled, partly to release all that wound-up tension and un-contort her body and partly because, well, again, that smell. She’d been holding her breath as much as she could. The rescuing voice spoke again, “He’s banned from the store and he knows it. I wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” She turned around to see the speaker behind the counter, a perfectly normal man in his thirties whose most notable features were some particularly wild hair and a name tag that said “Nelson” attached to a black shirt that said COACH in block white letters. “Are you alright?” he said. “Um,” Melissa said. Her heart was still racing, and measured breaths weren’t helping. It was all she could do to manage a “Thank you.” She bent down to pick up the paper now that the guy wasn’t around to see her do it, mostly out of a sense of cleanliness, and she noted the scribble on it. “bradley l braderson” the card read. Then, in brackets, “(the l stands for leigh).” There was a phone number below that. “If you want my advice, you should get rid of that,” Nelson said. “You don’t know where that paper’s been. Hell, give it to me and I’ll burn it for you.” “Thank you,” Melissa said again. “Um, actually, do you know where the restroom on this floor is?”It had been a while since Melissa had had a good scream. As the world came crashing down on her, all she could really do was let it all out. Every so often, she’d hear sounds from outside her stall -- from the rest of the restroom. Most of the time, it was people trying their best to not pay attention, but occasionally she got a knock on her stall asking questions like “Are you alright?” or “Is there anything I can do to help?” Those people were met with a meek “No, thank you.” On one occasion, a woman was like “Hell yeah, let it all out, sister,” which got a half-laugh from Melissa, though it quickly turned into a coughing fit. “You know, I actually thought I was past this,” Melissa said as she finally exited her stall. “I don’t- I guess that I thought I handled being taken from my home okay, and that was the worst thing that could happen to me. Plus, with all the fighting…” The angels, at least, were sympathetic. You have been focused on other things. they said. But after spending time creating a new normal for yourself, it is only natural that old issues would come back to the fore. “I guess,” Melissa said. She turned on the sink and started washing her hands. “Now that I’m thinking about it more, Mauvache did summon us while I was in a restroom, and that wasn’t that long ago.” Also included in her hand-washing procedure was splashing water on her face a few times. You were also in a highly emotional state, having just discovered another thing reminding you of your home. Anyone might have been affected by someone or something disrupting that. “Mm.” Melissa moved on to drying her hands, opting for the automatic towel dispenser over the high-tech air drying machine. “Also, you don’t have to warn me about my heart rate or other things that happen when I’m stressed, you know. I know when it happens. I think being reminded just makes it worse.” You have our apologies. “It’s alright. We’re still working things out.” The last step of this restroom trip was a few deep breaths. Speaking of her heart rate, Melissa had a hand on her heart as she inhaled so she could feel herself returning to normal. “I left Fen alone there,” she said. “I hope she’s okay.”The game store still had a stench to it, but it was the residual kind, where all the clutter made it impossible to aerate properly. It probably wasn’t just Bradley Leigh Braderson that made it smell like that, Melissa realized. It was probably a bunch of different people who either didn’t know their own personal hygiene or didn’t care. It was a little judgemental of her to think that way, she realized, and she made a mental note to remember it in case she ever did find a proper capital C Catholic priest on Prana, but in the moment, she felt like she deserved to feel a little scorn. She shuffled back into the store with a mumbled apology, but she realized she probably should give a proper one not just for herself but for the hobby she was supposed to be introducing. “I’m sorry, Fen,” she said. “My world has people like that too, but everyone plays this game so they’re more of an outlier. I wasn’t really expecting it.” “You’re guardians?” Nelson asked. “Actually, no, I recognize you now that I think about it. I just read a bunch of interviews with Mauvache’s latest crop, and you were in there, I think.” He pointed at Melissa. “I think I’ve seen your picture floating around the mall too. Some amateur photographer is selling prints?” Melissa winced, but she still managed to make a snark. “I think if you tell me that I might have to go hide in the bathroom again,” she said. “I’m especially glad Bradley didn’t recognize us, then.” Nelson laughed. “Well, I’m certainly not going to tell him,” he said. “Honored to have you in the store all the same, though. What can I get for you?” Melissa scanned the wall behind the counter, full of various packs and decks that she didn’t recognize and a few that she did. “I’ll take, uh, that one,” she said, pointing to one of the starter decks. It had a picture of a young woman and a fairy on it, back to back and striking a dramatic pose. “Fen? I’m sure they’re all fine so does any of the key art strike your fancy?”

“Ah, there’s that light failure again,” Brian said into his phone. He was glad he kept the flashlight on so he didn’t have to fumble around in the dark. “But I’m still here. I’m alive.” He scanned the area again with the light taking note of his surroundings. Yeah, it was still the same room he was just in, no mystic fakery there. There were urinals and a sink and a - “Jesus Christ.” Where the toilet had been was a ghost. It was the kind of ghost with wet hair that covered her face and stretched all the way to the ground where it mangled together into a heap. It was a sorry wretch of a ghost, all things considered, Brian thought. Still, its sudden appearance had given him a little jump, “I’m not going to say I didn’t believe you before, Carmen, but I found the ghost,” he said. To the ghost, but still with the phone listening in, he said, “Excuse me, can I just…” He extended his arm out with one of the seals in hand and kept going forward, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that whatever it was it really ought not to be. If the ghost disappeared again, he’d just stick the seal on the toilet. If it stayed dormant, he’d stick it on its forehead and figure out something from there. He didn’t actually know how the seals were supposed to work. The ghost, though, did neither of those things. It grabbed Brian’s arm with a speed he wasn’t ready for, and its hand was clammy to the touch. “Excuse me, that’s-” Brian grunted. He tried to push forward, just, like, slide down the grip so he could stick the seal on something, but the ghost’s grip was firm enough there to make it kind of a struggle. And it had one free hand too, but it didn’t try to grab Brian with that one. Instead, it reached up to its head area and parted its hair, revealing itself to not only not have a face, but had a void instead of a face, a gaping hole that was impossibly deep for its place in the ghost’s body. It was directing the seal -- and Brian’s arm -- towards that. “Nope. Nope nope nope. No thanks,” Brian said. He yanked his arm back, but it took a few tries before he could get his wrist free. For the second time that night, Brian found himself sprinting for the bathroom door. He spotted Carmen as he came out, hung up the phone, and ran back over. “Okay, new plan. Let’s go back to the van and, uh, see what other stuff Shiki might have left for us.”

Chris’ only solace was that the hulking thing didn’t notice why it had slowed down, because he’d been left kind of a sitting duck holding onto that string. Not that the alternative was much better. It just loomed over Ziun instead, arm raised to deal a crushing blow. “Hey! No!” Chris said. He brought his sword into the back of its leg. It was a blow that, on, you know, a person, might have hobbled them for life, but the hulk had no such issues. Chris didn’t even get to distract the thing, Ziun still had to deal with its fist, and then Chris had to deal with the backhand that was almost like a follow-through. He tried to fall back but pulled on the string and teleported to the end, which got him out of the way, yes, but because he wasn’t expecting it, he got off-balance and had to turn his dodge into a failed half-somersault and he had to scramble back to his feet. He had its attention now. It was hard to think with that sort of monster in front of you. Even other large monsters they’d faced -- a minotaur, a particularly unusually-sized rat, whatever -- weren’t this big. Chris fell back on his baser instincts and the actual swordplay instruction he’d received. His opponent was bigger than him and had a bigger reach. It was to his advantage if he got up close. Well, so long as he didn’t get grabbed. But he could be on the lookout for that, at least. He ran back in and took swing at the thing’s other leg. The swing had a similar effect as the last: not much, and the reaction from the hulk was much the same, but this time, now that it didn’t have to readjust, it raised both fists and brought them down. Thankfully, the gap between its legs was big enough that Chris could just sneak through, and he found himself next to Ziun. “Okay, while it’s distracted,” he said, “uh, get away from it?” He swiveled his head and locked eyes with another cultist. “Estellise, cover me!” he said, and charged in.

(band is streetlight manifesto that's not really made clear by the video title or description)

6.5/10 sure 7/10 you're going to say something like "this was in the credits of some video game you haven't played"OP Suggestion: there's another mystery skulls album it's fine 7/10

Brian dutifully answered his phone when called. “Check, check,” he said. He heard his voice coming from Carmen’s phone, which would have been the most unnerving thing he’d experienced that day if not for, you know, the ghosts. But again, the ghosts weren’t going to keep him from doing his job, and neither was the phone thing. He went over to the box of seals and refreshed his own personal stock of the things, before turning the flashlight on and pointing it at a wall to make sure it worked. It was pretty cheap, just like everything else Shiki seemed to give them, Brian mused, but it shone bright enough to see the spot even with all the lights in the cafeteria on, which was good enough for him. “There’s this guy in my fraternity,” Brian mused as he finished gearing up, “uh, Rho Alpha Delta if you care. His name is Carmichael, and he’s as much a stick in the mud as that sort of name suggests. He was always trying to tell us off for doing admittedly stupid shit, like jumping onto a trampoline from the frat house roof or whatever. Everyone else in turn would call him a coward for, you know, obvious reasons and Carmichael was always like, ‘Cowards live.’ And, you know, fair enough. Carmichael Jones is still alive and with us today, and doing Jackass stunts is a good way to end up dead. But he’s also a nervous wreck with no hobbies working a dead-end job because he’s too fucking scared to quit. “Anyway, the point is, cowards live, sure,” Brian said, “but that’s because they don’t do anything else. Going in now.” He crossed the threshold back into the restroom. The lights were back on, which made having the flashlight on a little embarrassing, but there wasn’t anyone to see it, so the embarrassment quickly faded. “Pretty normal in here,” Brian said. He realized Carmen probably didn’t have a good idea of what a “normal” high school boy’s restroom looked like, but he wasn’t about to elaborate. “Like I said, I’m mostly done, just gotta take care of the one toilet that spooked me the first time around.” He pulled out the seals and aimed the flashlight right at the corner toilet. The lights flickered, but the flashlight was just good enough to keep the ambient light levels above the proper spooky zone. He stuck his phone in the crook of his shoulder and pulled out the seals. “Just gonna keep talking until this is done, Carmen. I promise I won’t cry wolf or anything either, just for you.”