Luna's nose was overwhelmed by these new smells. She examines the berries.

>APPRAISE

Some bright red berries. They appear has a sweet flavor.

Luna begins to eat the berries. As she does so, her eyes glimmers in happiness.

This taste, I like it!

Edited by ThatBlindGamer on Apr 12th 2024 at 9:06:00 AM

Ogerpon doesn't have the human height to search the surroundings well.

"I'll stay close in case anything dangerous comes."

Mr. Khamen - Makai

Taking advantage of Peppino's stunned state, Mr. Khamen tries to unleash a powerful Hell's Curse combo on Peppino. If a strike lands on Peppino, a cursed hieroglyph tries to brand itself onto Peppino's body. It was clear that Mr. Khamen was going to prolong Peppino's suffering at this moment.

"Maki Maki Maki," laughs Mr. Khamen. "The only way to stop my curse is to beat me!"

Luna finishes eating the berries, as she was rather hungry and her hunger is now satisfied.

Luna's HP and PP are fully restored.

I'll stay here. I really don't want to go back out there again. I can't swim, so I basically awoke here when I fainted.

Luna shakes the cold snow off her fur and sits down.

Dawnguard, Church, Mech, Onyxis Beach

"My enemies are many in number." Luin smiled in response, as though speaking of her opps was a topic of joy. "But the one who did this…well, I think I’d prefer never to face it again." She lowered her voice as she said it to Perceval, but Radahn overheard anyways:

   "I disagree."    The general snarled.    "That beast has stolen away more than just my eye and the lives of my men. I wish it would return and finish the job—that way I may die the warrior I was, not…"    Radahn hissed as he glanced downwards at himself, shaking his head in utter contempt.    "…this."    Then, he sighed, shook his head, and glared back up at Luin.    "Well? You summoned me, did you not? If you have a favor, girl, then speak it."   

The woman cleared her throat. "There’s a people that need your help. I’ve come asking for aid on behalf of all of them. A long, deadly winter approaches…and as it is, they are unprepared for it. I’ve come to ask for you."

Radahn scoffed in response.    "I don’t see how that’s my problem. I deal against the Loptyr Cult, and nothing more. My duties end there."   

Luin seemed dismayed at his dismissal. The man turned grumbling towards the fortress and had begun to walk back towards it, but she wasn’t done yet. Luin gave chase, jogging after the nine foot man to keep pace with his every stride. "They will not survive, General Radahn. Winter will claim their lives—did you not once fight for the common people?"

   "Aye, I did."    He shook his head and did not break pace.    "But that was before your friend."   

Luin glowered at Radahn’s back. Hearing the wretched dragon be referred to as her "friend" elicited something in her, set her off like little else could. "Then do it for glory! Or has that been ripped away from you too, leaving only a coward in its wake—?"

   "THERE IS NO GLORY!"    Radahn roared, finally stopping and turning. Saliva shot from his mouth, landing on Luin’s shoulders as she paused in her tracks and looked up at him, as though only just now realizing how much larger he was than her.    "There is no honor, there is no courage, there is no strength! Because you’re right, girl! That thing stole everything from me. There is only…only cowardice…"    His voice lowered as he spoke until at last he only whispered, looking not at Luin but at the ground beneath the two. A sympathetic look crossed the woman’s face and she stepped forwards and reached out for Radahn’s arm. Her mouth opened, as though to speak, but words never came: for the general met her eyes once more, fury borne of his shame.    DO NOT TOUCH ME, GIRL!"    He snapped, backhanding the woman away across the yard.

"Bastard!''" Khars’Li howled, unsheathing his macuahuitl and charging at the demigod of war, only for the blade to be wrenched from his hands and a powerful right hook to send the Lizardman into the dirt, leaving only Perceval.

——

Cittufeni watched the gargantuan stone approach. He could have found a weak spot in its structure to punch it apart…but that cost energy, precious energy he didn’t have to use when there was a much simpler solution present.

The android dropped.

He landed on the ground as the massive rock passed by overhead, smashing into the earth elsewhere. He listened to Artemis’ argument against his own, considered her facts for a split moment, and came to a startling conclusion. She wasn’t exactly wrong. He had compared their two statements before, scanning the “emotion” in their voice to determine which was more likely to be truthful when it came to their intents after victory, but now the one known as Artemis seemed to match Tilra’s truthfulness potential, and thus he could deny her no longer.

"Argumental flaw detected, logged, and considered. This is a most…disturbing occurrence. Perfection is the goal, to reach it, one must practice it. Mistakes are not allowed; they must be punished. Administering punishment." Cittufeni’s palm and fingertips on his right hand began to glow…he lifted them not at any other, but to the side of his own head. But then, he paused…and the android thought. Even by his own standards, he deemed this degree of self-punishment somewhat extreme. Was there something deeper? All his thoughts were ordinarily available to him on the surface level, so what was this, that he could not easily explain his own actions? Some glitch, perhaps? Something about the notion felt strangely…human, to him. He was hesitant to entertain the idea: his goal was perfection, and organics were the exact opposite of that. But, he pursued knowledge above all else, and for that reason it’d be foolish to avoid entertaining certain notions because they…they scared him. They scared him, Cittufeni realized.

What…was happening?

He felt something. Not his sensors or his optics, but he—him! HE felt something! A tingling sensation, like…Cittufeni scoured the depths of the internet built in and downloaded onto his mind. What emotion was this? It could’ve been any number of them, and in the end, he couldn’t narrow it down to a single one.

"It is a strange game, this Gor plays." He mused aloud. "To put us at odds, against eachother, for…what? To make us forget our true, shared enemy, or for its own amusement? What would it do if there is no victor? Would we anger this being, or would our defiance mean nothing—just a ripple in an infinitesimally large sea? My research has deemed organics…spiteful. But, what is spite born of, if not emotion? And what is emotion, if not the driving force for all an organic does? I have spent all my time in pursuit of perfection, of ultimate omniscience…but knowledge is only one side of a two-sided coin. Wisdom is the other, and wisdom is built on the foundation of morals, morals built on the foundation of emotion…"

"I think…for once, I would like to experience humanity. Just for a brief while."

Crack!

The plasma bolt tore through his artificial skull, leaving a melted mass of metal where his cranium had been. The headless body stood affixed in the same pose, did not budge or collapse or crumple, but no mistake could be made: Cittufeni was eliminated from the competition.

——

Kado clung close to the Vincent during the mech’s ascent up the much larger mech’s leg. He closed his eyes and meditated briefly, using this time to regain as much usage for the Force as he could before they had nearly reached the top. The Jedi lunged from his ride’s back and leapt for the flat EXCELSUS’ surface, breaking his fall with a roll uninterrupted. Now came the hard part: reaching his hands out, the Jedi grabbed some wreckage and debris from the ruined city block below, attempting to lift fragments of rubble with the Force to the mech and the air just above it.

He closed his eyes, focused on his hearing, and let go…

The intent was to listen, focused, as the wreckage clattered against the machine all around him, being acutely attentive of any clang duller than the rest he might’ve heard and hoping to use that in pinpointing the location of a hollowness within the mighty machine’s main body.

——

"The boat you were on.." Luin began, finally giving up her by-eye search for the ship. "What did it look like, do you remember? Can you describe it?"

Edited by ISZATSO on Apr 12th 2024 at 1:34:37 PM

It was some sort of cargo ship. Luna was still holding onto hope that her mother was still alive.

Avar-Laren

Sebastien immediately springs into action, dashing towards one of the Deepdwellers to swing his electrified batons at it, before following it up by kicking another in the face before they could react.

HC

I'm just assuming the cursed spirits have been taken care of by this point since Bold is closing the scene up.

Anyway Charaxes buzzes angrily, before noticing Red Hood. His compound eyes narrow as he approaches threateningly, only to stop and turn around to face one of the other sewer tunnels. His antennae twitch and he flaps his wings before taking off and flying down said tunnel as if he heard something Red Hood couldn't.

Quite a bit has happened that Jack has borne witness to, nothing attack-related but plenty of things being said. He isn't quite sure how to approach it all at first, having fully expected to spark an all-out brawl through his attempt to antagonize everyone else present, and actually visibly disappointed that it didn't happen. He remains at the top of the damaged pillar, the ambient heat from his body burning a mark in the surface, while gazing between the other fighters.

He seems visibly disappointed that Cittufeni, ahem, existentially absconded. That narrows down the remaining competition in too boring a way for his own taste, not to mention the other issues. Still, he was not in any position to intervene, and there's no undoing that now. Only three other fighters left...

Then, discarding that line of thought, he turns his attention to Arlina instead. He's done some damage to her by the look of things, yet now she isn't even fighting back. Did she weaken herself in her fight with Sarah so much that talking it out is her only option now? Part of him suspects that. The scraps of rationality still clinging to his quite frankly overcooked brain matter would argue instead that she's focused on something more important. The long term.

But if she isn't willing to fight him, the other side of him isn't willing to grant her room to do that. Jack just shakes his head.

   {Why do you not fight when you are so sure in your own cause? You speak highly of your own capabilities, yet apparently gave up on demonstrating them after you flew off with the redhead. If you no longer have intention of battle, then feel free to disappoint me by absconding in the way the metal man did.}   

Then, he casts his gaze away from her, and onto the remaining competition. Tilra's been out of action for a concerningly long time, and part of him is getting a bit worried that she might have something big being prepared, with the period of inactivity as a way to dissuade anyone from dealing with her until it's ready. There is, of course, a solution for that. One he doesn't want to engage with, but it's the only way to be sure.

Jack proceeds to pull out the Depleted Uranium Sledgehammer and yeet it at Tilra full force, the result resembling the firing of an insultingly unaerodynamic railgun bullet aimed at her head. That way, if she's just pretending to sleep it'll get her up and running again, and if she's actually down for the count, well... He's not even sure if the sledgehammer will survive the impact, let alone her.

After that, there's one last thing he has to address. He turns his attention onto Emma, and when he does, he just stares. There are... quite a mess of emotions running through his head.

   <Wow. I am stupid. My whole plan for winning this hinged on taking her out first, and yet I've wasted so much time not doing that, she's making ICE EXPLOSIONS freeze over. How far could that ability of hers go? Could she even draw upon zero point energy if left to her own devices long enough? And since she's one of the last fighters standing, if we were to clash, her powerset counters mine so she stands good odds of winning...>   

And yet he isn't going to back down that easily. His power flares once more, this time bringing himself to the absolute limit of his endurance. The brightness of his flame is so intense it is, in essence, the awakening of a second star upon this battleground desert, sickly green light forming new shadows from the bodies of everything that manages to withstand the withering heat. But it comes at a cost - his regeneration, fuelled by the destruction of his own body, is overtaxed. Left on the very brink of stability, the other fighters would see the tips of his fingers on both hands turn to ash, blown away by the heat of the plasma surrounding him, and fail to grow back. The destruction does not spread further... yet.

The broken pillar of stone melts underneath him, bringing him to the ground in seconds as he walks a few steps forward, soon standing in front of Emma. He still has words to exchange with her.

   {...There's something strangely fascinating about witnessing what your powers can do. I have no intent to win this battle even with so much of the competition dealt with - I only ask that you show me the fullest extent of what you can do with them. Will you grant me that honor, and our audience a fitting spectacle?}   

He gestures to the distant crowds first mentioned when Gor set up the place, then waits only for Emma's response, steely gaze and flamescarred body primed in anticipation whether she answer verbally or physically.

With the Cursed Spirits dispatched and Charaxes wheeling on him with most likely unfriendly intentions, Red Hood prepares to defend himself from the hulking insectoid monster. Hopefully, this wasn't pushing the needle towards "mindless beast who can't be reasoned with" and Killer Moth - assuming he was in control in this state - was just unpleasantly surprised to find one of Gotham's vigilantes down here.

"Easy, Walker..."

Much to Jason's surprise, though, Charaxes halts his advance and flies off down anther sewer tunnel. Wondering if Charaxes had either managed to relocate Kenjaku or sensed another horde of Cursed Spirits, he hurries after the transformed rogue.

The dummy felt awfully stiff, but had the texture and softness of human skin.

"Perhaps you are trying to gauge the wrong kind of information in a situation like this."

Lucas stands beside Pucci.

"Feel your distance. From here," He reaches out to the same distance as Pucci and holds its shoulder. Before he abruptly turns his staff into a handgun and immediately shoots it in the chest. The shot kicks it back and sends it to the ground.

"It is neutralized. Your gun is guaranteed to be effective at this range but, your probe, can extend this range by a significant amount."

He walks back a little then another training dummy appears farther away, taking a step forward and back periodically.

"Try and feel its distance with the cane and fire. That should tell give you a better gauge at its effective range."

Its reason for stepping back and forth? So Pucci can feel some kind of physical resistance and pushback if his stick makes contact with the dummy in any way.

Island

Lucien is suddenly glad his clothes are enchanted to keep water out, even when they logically wouldn't (for example, his boots are below the surface, yet no water gets in). One of his eyes glow as he peers through Amber- getting a view of the area ahead through the eyes of his raven -not that he could control her movement, though.

"Ah, I could tell just as many stories of the beasts from my world. But, given the circumstances, I think I will refrain... for now."

He flashes a small grin as he continues to walk- Wading somewhat awkwardly through the muck.

HC

Charaxes flew down the tunnels at a fast pace, though not to the point Red Hood would lose track of him. It helped that he'd occasionally stop to look around, his antennae twitching as if he was reorienting himself before moving again. Eventually he stopped under a sewer grate and well... smashed through it to get out.

When Red Hood caught up, he'd find Charaxes kneeling down before another insectoid being. One noticeably taller than him, less buff and with proportionately longer limbs.

   "Hmm, I didn't expect you to turn so soon."    she said with a distinctly feminine voice, albeit one that simultaneously had an echo to it that sounded like a swarm of hornets.    "What sort of trouble did you get into, my subject?"   

Edited by shroobot3000 on Apr 13th 2024 at 10:52:19 PM

Once he's managed to catch up to Charaxes, Red Hood hides behind a nearby wall and watches as the rogue-turned-insectoid monster bows before a giant green-haired bug lady he wasn't especially familiar with.

"So that's how he did it. I thought he might've cut a deal with a demon or something."

HC

   "For someone who screamed so much during the initial process, you've certainly taken to this form well."    the insect lady observes, patting Charaxes on the head. She then stood up to her full height as she taps her chin.    "Hmm but what to do with you now..."   

A cockroach skitters down the alley but abruptly stops near Red Hood, staring at him.

   "Or with our observer."    the insect woman says, shifting her gaze in Red Hood's direction.    "Eavesdropping is rude you know."   

So, this mystery woman was to bugs what Poison Ivy was to plants. Well, there goes finding out how Killer Moth had gotten involved with her from the shadows. Red Hood emerges from his hiding spot, making sure his guns were holstered so as not to give the bug lady any wrong ideas.

"Hi, call me the Red Hood," he says. "You might've noticed the commotion happening up top and down here just now. Did Killer Moth here ask you to make him, well, that so he could fight the guy behind it?"

Jason gestures to Charaxes, still wondering if Walker was in control or if the bug lady was the only thing keeping him from trying to rip his head clean off.

Edited by IchigoMontoya on Apr 13th 2024 at 4:54:28 AM

The Empire Arms Hotel is one of many skyscrapers in the Hub Centralis skyline, right at the center. It's a bit of a risk, but with the Arena being a nexus of worlds, hotels are a good idea - so long as you're willing to cope with hosting the occasional murderer, world-ender, shapeshifting monster or tourists with disagreeable manners and an habit of speaking in their mother tongue when asked questions.

It was a place of delight and bright colors. The entrance hall looks like a block of gold with red carpets thrown all over it, covering every inch of floors, with seats and couches for some tired guests (or guests-in-waiting?) below incredibly tall paintings, depicting warriors no one in the lobby could remember fighting in unimportant wars riding creatures none of them could describe.

Hosts and guests danced across the lobby, going from end of the hall to the other as they went to the bar to secure precious drinks and delicious (if devilishly unfulfilling) food to bring to the ballrom. Where they'd stay six minutes before going back to the bar to go back to the ballrom OR would party away after finding a suitable partner. Some other guests followed a similar path, but instead fled to the toilets, presumably after having done that little cycle for too long onwards.

The hotel's layout was perhaps a bit cynical in its own way. Rich folks partying away for no real reason and discussing meaningless things to strangers whom they'd fail to recognize by tomorrow after ingesting enough alcohol to kill a Skaven ten times over. But in a world like the Arena, perhaps that kind of pointless fun was what everyone sought. But Beruka would not familiarize herself with her fellow clients tonight. Nor any night, for that matter. For she looked upon their party far less kindly.

The couple walked into the hotel after paying the cab. There, they walked into the lobby, got the keys for their suite, walked into an empty elevator, and began the ride to one of the top floors surprised to find that Gunter had apparently made reservations for quite the suite. And even more surprised to find that they had not been violently attacked from their departure of the plaza to their arrival into their suite.

And has they walked out of the elevator together, both were lightly expecting a resurrected Kashimo to punch his way through the suite and slam Corrin through the hotel all the way to the ballroom. Or for Kenjaku, whoever he was, to be waiting sprawled on their bed or couch, a sarcastic smile on his lips, and some hidden set of keys spinning around on the tip of his pinky. The worst thing they happen to find is the exact specific color of the suite's curtains : pale blue. Beruka groans.

The rest of the room is the same mess of gold and red as ever, and Beruka immediately take a quick look at the rest. Two couches and multiple chairs hover above a round wooden table in the middle of the room, with a coat hanger and a small desk next to the entrance. Further down the large room is a huge plasma TV, remote sitting proudly on top of it. Mirrors and small painting decorate the room's bright red walls, with gigantic closets and drawers almost the size of said closets.

On the right is the bathroom, half the size of the suite, with a large bathtube, several golden towels of various size stacked together unto a chair, and a hoard of beauty products crowded around the faucet, with appliances and more products stashed around a drawer with a reflective surface. Just in case.

Deeper into the room, there's a door that lead to the bedroom. You probably got the gist - it's a nice room. And one that Beruka very quickly inspects, drawing her axe pretty much on sight before crouching to glance at the space beneath the couch. Not convinced with the clean rug she sees, she raise her axe and poke at it a few times, attempting to poke the likely invisible monster hiding beneath.

Beruka....

Paranoia can be justified. I'll check the room out - please do not go to sleep immediately in case... Beruka turns to glance at Corrin, unsure on how to articulate it. He shrugs and move to the couch, very carefully lifting it up with the tip of his finger. He gives Beruka a smirk and wryly raise his eyebrow upon seeing her unamused expression, though she's quick to get over it.

It's alright, I'm not mocking you, he says, seeing her move on to a closet. He then move to pick it up, but she proceed to grab and lift it aside as well, to Corrin's brief shock. oh right, she's very strong now But... I don't want you to run ragged worrying after every little thing, you know? I think there are big things ahead of us and we should sleep, because tomorrow is gonna be a weirder day.

I can't sleep, and neither should you. Not until the room is safe. We're isolated, far too high up to escape properly if we find ourselves ambushed. Sloppy. Gunter should have known this. Beruka groans as she get going, and Corrin just sighs, deciding to go to the bathroom to lay in the bathtube. Not even to really get a bath going - or to really do anything but stare at the ceiling.

He was unwilling to go against Beruka even though he was worried for her sake. And, to be honest? Somewhere, he appreciated her being the one to actually take care of these tiring little things.

...

Beruka enters the bathroom in something of a hurry, the sleeves of her clothes pulled almost to her shoulder, eyes ragged. She look literally more tired and dirty than after the battle.I had to be very thorough in my examination. We will need to abscond from Imperial Arms and let no personnel enter the room until th-oh. Beruka glances down at the sight of Corrin laying in the bathtube, half-submerged in water with his clothes still on.

The tip of his tail determine the flow of water - right now, it's a very tiny, yet steady, stream, with the tail wrapping itself around the faucet to determine a particular temperature. As soon as the tail "notices" Beruka, it moves around as if startled and goes back to Corrin's body, his eyes slowly turning over to Beruka.

The Nohrian woman sighs and hold the sides of her head briefly, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with Corrin lazily moving his head to follow her movement. I apologize. She begin, seeing his blinking as a sign to carry on. This night wasn't supposed to go like this. And it's my fault. I should have been able to see "Kenjaku" coming but I didn't. I was too obsessed with acquiring new power that I... focused solely on that, and that was all he needed to get into position-

we just can't see these people coming he'd have reached us anywhere anywhere In Nohr. In Hoshido. The Arena. A icy fortress... just dont worry about stopping these things we just have to accept that they will happen and we cant stop them its why gunter couldnt contact us before

...

i guess i'm not supposed to be happy you know? after Takumi its garon after garon its kenjaku and itll be someone or something else after kenjaku and im going to be going through this forever

They'll fall too. We'll take them down, together, Beruka says, putting her hand on Corrin's shoulder, but being careful not to shove him deeper into the bath. He's completely splayed on the bathub, and she's almost surprised to find that he still has a bone or two in his body. And not metaphorically. Life is a succession of challenges. In a world like Arena, or ours, these challenges happen to be Garon, Julius or Kenjaku. Without conflict, there can't be growth.

we Corrin wheeze something out akin to a laugh, and Beruka grabs his head, as if fearing that it'd vanish if he went underwater. Why had she left him alone with his thoughts for so long? look at these scales look at my hand with every injury im growing different he says, gesturing at his face with his clawed hand we barely mind said hand i barely mind said hand the more conflicts we get into the more wounds i'll have to endure look at me. Who am I? Who's buried benath these scales?

Beruka leans forward, very seriously considering the question. Those white scales... she'd avoided talking about those but they were quite noticeable. Like scar tissue. Beruka still restrained from wincing, and simply cupped Corrin's face into her hands, his features softening at her touch. And she could feel his quickening breath on her skin as her face got closer.

You're my husband. And these scales will have to try better than that to make me forget it. And before he can find a good counter-argument, her lips smack into his. Warmth and tenderness return to his body as his hands go up her back, her own hands sliding down his cheeks to let her arms wrap around his neck, allowing him to somewhat clumsily pull her into the bathtub.

It was a temporary solution to an eternal ill - she knew of it, they both knew, but ignorance is bliss sometimes.

And for now, all they could do was salvage the night.

Edited by Bolded1 on Apr 14th 2024 at 2:24:21 PM

HC

   "Hm?"    the insect lady tilts her head.    "Oh I suppose he didn't technically ask me. I just assumed that a human who tried to hard to be like us with that outfit and gadgets of his, that he'd wish to take it to the next level."   

At the mention of "us", several other insects emerged. A wasp-like Vespoid the size of a housecat, a swarm of roaches and a mantis-like Seltas looming behind her. They all chittered at Red Hood while Charaxes hissed but a raised arm from the lady silenced them.

   "Anyway, quite rude of me not to share my own name. Call me Wriggle Nightbug."    she says, bowing in a formal manner.    "Insect princess."   

Red Hood lets out a low whistle at the various insects of unusual size coming forth to answer Wriggle's call. Yeah, she was definitely the Poison Ivy of bugs, alright. Thank god she hadn't found that psycho Firefly and done to him what she did to Killer Moth, at least as far as he knew...

"Pleasure. So, Wriggle, can Killer Moth still think and speak when he's like that?" he asks. "He's never really been a fan of my work, but I wanted to talk to him about something he might be interested in. It has to do with the guy who set up that attack."

Onyxis Beach

Luna then notices the meat that was beside the berries she just ate.

Huh? What's this? Is this food? It looks like it...

Luna took a bite of the meat.

It's... okay... I'm not really a fan of it.

Luna continues to eat the piece of meat, until she stopped eating it when she had about half of it left.

Avar-Laren, Island, Pucci

The first deepdweller was flung backwards, skittering onto its feet and pausing for a moment to recover from the attack, before spasming as it attempted to stand and collapsing once more to the ground. The other had already leapt at Sebastien with arms reaching to rip his faceplate off, only for the object in motion to be acted upon by an opposite force. The metal foot slammed into its jaw and practically tore its head off, achieving as much gore as a hologram that constantly maintained the same color could achieve.

Good! ZEPHYR contains two other moves as well: The first, TORNADO UPPERCUT, is an uppercut that unleashes a powerful burst of wind to launch yourself and smaller targets around you into the air, as well as potentially stunning larger Deepdwellers! The second, WHIRLWIND DASH, is very similar to your regular dash, except in how it ends: while you come to a sudden stop, the air around you doesn’t! The enemy will be sent flying by a wall of utterly concussive force, capable of breaking bone! These two can be used in tandem with eachother for deadly effect!

As the voice explained, the other three deepdwellers began to close in from three different angles, striking at Sebastien at once with claws swinging and fangs gnashing.

——

"Going band-for-band about local animals sounds…kind of fun, actually." Petra smiled. "We’ve got some weird creatures here. Laser-shooting lava salamanders that burrow through volcanos and use hardened magma for armor; horned masses of muscle and stone that camouflage themselves as rocks and use their tail clubs to transform themselves in biological helicopters; obsidian-armored dinosaurs with exploding slime and a tendency to punch their problems away.." Petra gazed off, as though dreamily, as she spoke of the fauna. "And that’s just the tip of the iceberg of the things we know about. There’s still dozens of—"

"Sh!" Khars’Li suddenly cut the conversation short, pointing ahead at what looked like an utterly decimated thatch hut, once a home built on stilts among the trees but now nothing more than a shattered ruin laying half-sunk in the swamp. "Precious building materials like that tend to disappear fast here." He explained. "That’s new. Whatever did it could still be around…see if you can find any tracks."

——

With confirmation on what the object in question was, Pucci took the cane from his hip. He held it out tentatively, trusting that the new figure was just another training dummy. He thrust the cane forwards, waiting for the slightest reverberation to confirm contact at the bladed tip…and, the moment it came, lifted the gun in his other hand to a point he felt was level. Adjusting his footing and the way he held the weapon in preparation of the recoil, he squeezed the trigger but once in the direction of the target: his hand-eye coordination had always been rather reliable, back then…he had only hand coordination in its place, but hopefully his muscle memory could serve him well.

Dededelivery Solo

Save

• Green Greens

Some icebreaking/self introductions (apparently these ninja enemies in Kirby games are called Bio Sparks and Moonjas, and two of these in a stack is around "Pyra"'s height while the receptionist Waddle Dee has a hammer for stamps. Perhaps "Pyra" themselves would give the Ninja ability as well.) and several more jobs with less incidents (other than witnessing a fight induced meteor shower) later, the day is done.

[You got a bass!]

Well, that's the last thing "Pyra" got outside of groceries. They named the bass Victoria like how their bike is named the Typhoon.

Returning to their apartment and having some chord practise later, the trio sleeps, preparing for Sunday.

Church

Arlina crosses her arms, watching as she pisses off Emma (which she expected), among other things.

"I may not know your world, but I know the sort of people you fight for. No matter how bad it gets, you follow blindly, even if you refuse to admit it. At the same time, it's all you can do- to rebel against them would mean death. But here, you have a shot. The Arena is full of people who can match the Empyrreich's power. But you'll never reach out on your own, will you? They monitor you, I bet."

... oh hey, Cittufeni's dying. Which, seeing Emma's current absorption rate of energy, and the fact that the robotic corpse still has plenty within it...

Oblivion Magic - Gate to Nowhere

Arlina lifts one hand as she warps Cittufeni's corpse to who-knows-where. Wherever it ended up, it's outside anywhere that can be reached.

She sighs.

"I don't need to fight. You're already tiring yourselves out for me."

One could almost see the small smirk on her face.

"Besides... I have someone else to deal with."

Arlina casts a glance down at Tilra (and the hammer already heading for her) before simply gripping something out of thin air, an ethereal chain manifesting before she slams it forward, the other end appearing on Tilra.

The area around Tilra shatters as thousands of chains make themselves known, space rending at the seams before folding back to normality. Arlina doubts this would kill Tilra, the woman being what she is, but...

...with a hammer heading at her as well, maybe it'd wake her up.

"You should stop sleeping. You'll be late for school."

what?

Island

"Hm."

As they approach the broken-down shack, Lucien holds up his hand and Amber flies back, landing on his shoulder. He closes his eyes and concentrates.

"Supra aspectum."

Lucien doesn't open his eyes at first- he currently doesn't need to. He'd cast True Seeing, which... well, let the definition speak for itself.

This spell gives the willing creature you touch the ability to see things as they actually are. For the duration, the creature has truesight, notices secret doors hidden by magic, and can see into the Ethereal Plane, all out to a range of 120 feet.

Nothing within that range can hide from his eyes. At least not for long. He slowly opens his eyes, seeing everything in perfectly sharp vision- the rocks below the water, buried in the ground. The roots of the trees. It almost gives him a headache- the only reason he usually doesn't use it for the whole hour it usually lasts.

"I'll let you know if I find anything. It certainly is odd, if the island changes as fast as you say it does."

HC

   "He's a bit overwhelmed by all the new senses and instincts right now."    Wriggle hummed, patting the Vespoid like it was a dog. Charaxes hissed as if to confirm it. Wriggle's antennae twitched as she addressed Red Hood again.    "But thanks to our connection I could... translate for you. Consider me curious."   

Avar-Laren

Sebastien flexed his mechanical arm experimentally before opting to handle this situation with the suggested combo. First he used a TORNADO UPPERCUT when they got close to hopefully toss them into the air before slamming back down with a WHIRLWIND DASH to either stun them or kill them outright by yanking them up and down so forcefully.

This wasn't exactly how Red Hood imagined things would go, but it was happening nonetheless, so he wasn't going to complain.

"Alright. As much as he doesn't like me, I think I know someone he hates. Tell Walker that the guy who caused the attack might be our common enemy. If he shares everything he knows about him with me, I'll help him put the bastard in the dirt," he offers. "You know, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' and all that."

Wriggle's antennae twitched as she buzzed something to Charaxes, who snarled and looked ready to take off and throttle something until her eyes narrowed. Charaxes at that point froze up like a statue, before Wriggle buzzed something else to him. Charaxes' own antennae twitched as he replied in unintelligible speech.

   "Hmm, the individual known as Suguru Geto I assume?"    Wriggle tilted her head quizzically.    "He's apparently forming some kind of trap for someone, using teams of foolish daredevils as guinea pigs for his dungeon. The one you call Walker was in one of those teams along with some... Suicide Squad what a dumb name. They all died, though Walker managed to die in this dimension. After which I found him and gave him this 'gift'."