Inside 73: Holiday Rush

[Ironsmith]

Fairy Godfather's Hotel

"...I don't know. I am grateful, really. But... I also don't know you very well, and now I'm in your debt, not the Fairy Godfather's. I know him better'n you, and lived a long while without me wings." Boada isn't very sure, because she is getting her wings back but she came here partly to seduce Yuvan and learn about him that way.

She also lived a long while in the Fairy Godfather's debt, and it wasn't always pleasant.

[Fairy Godfather's Hotel]

"That is where you are mistaken." Yuvan groans and lays back on the bed. "I am not in the business of collecting debts. I've been adventuring too long for that. The prospects of anyone I know, myself included, are far too uncertain to accept deferred payment. If I wanted something from you in exchange for returning your wings, I would demand it now or when you get them." He gives her a little smile. "But I do not. You owe me nothing for this, not even gratitude. If you feel obligated to do me a favor in the future... that is your decision, and yours alone." He turns his head and coughs into his fist. "Besides, we never agreed to payment in the first place, did we? What sort of person would I be if I involved myself in your affairs and then made demands for my interventions?"

[5a Violista]

[Spirit Bomb]

Seraphina is just going to go with the 'Inside is just strange' explanation, since there weren't really that many fairies around Skyside and the parks were pretty normal in Riverside.

Somehow, Seraphina manages to not fall over during the earthquake.
She manages to save some of the apples before they fall onto the ground, however. Not all of them, mind you, but a nonzero number of them were saved from hitting the ground. She looks upwards at the canopy, glad that it's there. "Well, I suppose that's a sign to stick around and not go park-searching," she says.


[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

Unfortunately, the Dark Maid is exactly as flammable as she was before dying and turning into a Dark Maid.
Fortunately, however, the Dark Maid is also now an undead person partially composed of draconic energy and familiar witchstuffs and spooky magical energy, so even getting caught on fire isn't too much of a detriment.

Obsidian doesn't really like how the flames are licking at her. It's a little uncomfortable. In fact, she'd rather not be licked at all, flames or no.

She glares down at the witch. The witch should've prostrated itself before her, and sworn undying fealty, and offered friendship; if it had done that, then Obsidian would have spared consuming it. (Well. If only the witch offered to be a friend, she would've stopped, because she knows you don't eat people who have friends. But she would lose terrible magnificence if she admitted that without also saying all those other things the witch needed to do.)

The Blood Fury Obsidian knows she's going to win.
Even so, she can't help but get excited about this battle. As she saw the witch grow angrier and more desperate and more powerful, Obsidian has been thinking that she wants to crush and devour the witch.
The dragon-girl licks her lips, and casts a darkness across the area deep enough that it dims some of the flames.
She has her Dark Maid release the witch and give it a push towards Obsidian.
She dives.
Her black claws tear at that desperate witch, as a grin spreads across her face. "Yes! Your strongest will fall before my strongest!"
She tears.
She claws.
She cuts.
She bites.
She devours.
She faces the witch's hatred and hopelessness face on, fighting because she wants to devour this powerful spirit with everything she has.


((...unfortunately, just as with the familiars, anything she eats gets passed on straight to her Dark Maid, so she can only enjoy the taste of the witch's despair and hatred))

[Shadowcaller]

[Midnight Park]

Nothing here matters to this snake?

That's really sad.

What a sad, lonely noodle.

Anyway!

Chatting to a trio of ponies!

A unicorn and kirin mare and another kirin stallion, as it happens. The kirins have some pretty fancy shiny crystalline scales though they aren't quite as fancy as the resident snake. They're bigger and heavier bodied than the unicorn, which is a leggy, dainty creature with proportions more akin to a deer.

The two mares seem a bit puzzled by that question, but the stallion laughs.

"What's she mean to me? The Princess? She's the heart and soul of us all! She's the reason we're free in the first place. If it weren't for her I would still be plodding around picking up corpses. That wasn't much of an unlife, let me tell you."

He sounds pretty enthusiastic about his liberator. And his bombastic laugh seems to make the pair of mares a little more willing to open up.

"She saved me from myself," the kirin mare says after a few moments of silence. "I wasn't... what you would call a good person. I did some terrible things to become undead. But the Princess, she gave me a second chance to do better."

[Arkham Street - Black Goat Park]

Meanwhile!

Tristan gets smooched!

That was very foxy of Jade, sneaking a kiss like that.

He's still got his hand on Jade's back for the sadly aborted dip-and-kiss combo, though at the kiss he gives her a scolding look. No doubt he expect a mischievous smile in kind.

"I don't think she's actually a faun?" Tristan says, not quite sure what to make of the situation.

When the other faun who was playing the music asks for a request all the other nearby fae begin shouting suggestions. Some of them wildly more inappropriate than others.

Black Goat Park

The "Faun" looks Jaahlyn dead in the eyes. Grateful, but already tired.
"I just want permission from one of the fauns to leave." "She" says simply.

Black Goat Park
Jade grins mischievously at Tristan. "If she's not a fae, she sure smells like one." It's a subtle reminder that Jade isn't quite as human as she looks (and given the tails and ears, she doesn't look all that human to begin with). "Watch my back, I'm about to do something stupid...

Hey! Leave her alone!" She steps into the ring of fae and moves to protect the "faun" from the shouting masses.

[Midnight Park]

"Single, but for how long, hmm?" Jaahlyn waggles her eyebrows suggestively before turning her full attention to the ponies.

"'Heart and soul', yeah, those are excellent words." Jaahlyn agrees, already mentally putting them into what she hopes will be the future lyrics. "But what drives her to do all this? She's benevolent, sure, but becoming what she is, achieving so much, there must be quite a story there. I will ask her myself at some point but until then want to get your idea of what happened. Is it a story she's even comfortable sharing?"

Black Goat Park

Jaahlyn is about to reply to that when a voice suddenly calls out and she turns to it with an mischievous glint in her eyes. "Leave?" She inquires while grinning at the foxy woman. "Why, that seems to be a popular request tonight." The satyr looks to the crowd. "But I certainly hope the rest of you folk don't feel the same way?" A joke, the mirth practically radiating from her right now.

"Still, do I get to hear a permission for this gal to do whatever the **** she wants?" She calls on the crowd around them as she raises her arm as if toasting.

[Vahnavoi]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

Once more, the swordsman hauls half of the platform he sliced between himself and gunfire. "Hey, now! Of us two I'm the only one really risking anything! If fall down, that's it for me - but if you fall down, you just get to try again next time! How's that for fair?"

The half-platform isn't big enough to cover him entirely, so he needs to get Batsael to stop firing - so he throws the fragment at her.

[Rebonack]

[Red Hook Pier]

And so while the swordsman and Batsael are busy working out their differences in a constructive manner down below the putti at the apex continues working!

The shells around the apex don't get any bigger.

It is probably setting a trap of some kind just in case Batsael gets up here before the swordsman.

But what sort of trap?

That's hard to guess at.

Likely something really unpleasant, given the competence it has displayed thus far.

"Mister Creep has got a point!" it yells down at Batsael. "He's playing for keeps on this one. If we get fragged there's always the next arena. No big deal."

It sounds like it still isn't terribly concerned with winning. If it WERE then it likely would have won already.

"What do you care if you don't win this arena, anyway? Aren't you even a LITTLE curious what'll happen if Mister Creep is the first one to touch the apex?"

The putti is honestly really curious about this. It definitely hasn't ever seen such a thing happen before.


[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

When all the doom begins falling on them one of the biggest Mittens leaps atop Catherine, shielding her from harm!

But getting burned up pretty bad in the process.

Oh no, kitty!

Thankfully the cat comes back the very next day even though she's a gonner.

As for Obsidian's ferocious assault?

Well.

Considering that the Labyrinth just faded away around them it LOOKS like the Witch has been defeated! All that remains is Obsidian's Dark Maid (who has probably gotten pumped full of power and may or may not end up as something akin to a dopple as a result) and the Witch's grief seed stuck in the trunk of the tree. A little silver filigree surrounding a black gemstone with a stylized flame on one end and a long metal spike on the other.

"Woo, that got pretty hot," Catherine comments as she dismisses all her cats save the hammer, which she drops. The hammer promptly turns back into a cat upon contact with the ground.
"Meow."
"You said it, Mittens," the Magical Girl says as she moves to pluck the grief seed out of the tree. She'll turn her attention to Obsidian and her minion from there. "Hey, you did pretty great in there Obsidian. It would have been a tough fight if you hadn't been there. But... uh..."

She glances between the dark minion and the dark mistress.

"I'm pretty sure you aren't the same sort of Magical Girl I am."

You think?

[bc56]

Red Hook Pier
"You should have considered that before running into an arena, Creep." Batsael jumps to the next platform, slashing the broken section into half again as it passes by. "I'm more curious about what will happen when I touch it and then win the floofing placement match and get bronze. Why do you even want to experiment on creeps and critters? They don't even have good drops."

[5a Violista]

[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

Now that the witch and the fight are over, the first thing that starts to disappear are the shimmering wings.

Unfortunately, Obsidian isn't really aware enough of how the Dark Maid has been taking all the energy and such that Obsidian was consuming so she can't chastise the maid for doing that.
Also she doesn't care about the grief seed that much. She's okay with Catherine taking it.
"Yeah! It was a fun fight!" she responds.
More importantly, though, she orders her Dark Maid to come over so she can look at the maid.

But! Then Catherine dared accuse Obsidian of not being a girl! Or maybe not being magic, she's not sure which.
"What? No, I am a girl just like you, see?" she holds out one leg and shakes it. "See? Noodle legs. Hair! Too! I have hair. And! And!" She gestures at the cat spirit then at the dark maid. "Same thing! Basically. And see, and see!"
Obsidian points at the the stone gem she has and the one one Catherine has. "See? Kinda similar!" Though, to be honest, color-wise, Obsidian's matches the black thing that came from the witch slightly better.

She takes a deep breath, and more of the additions that came from the newest transformation start to fade away. "Really the only difference is that I'm the best at everything, but that's okay! You can be second-best if you want, I don't mind."

Honestly, Obsidian is just a little worried that her new friend will tell her they can't be friends if she discovers that she's really not a girl like her but is secretly a dragon.

[Rebonack]

[Spirit Bomb]

Just blast through those imps!

It is definitely nice that Selekhael can finally destroy them. Or... not destroy them.

Banish them?

To Nowhere, apparently.

How can Nowhere be a place? Wouldn't that make it somewhere? Isn't that a paradox?

Well! It just so happens that the demons are inherently self-contradictory so that seems pretty well in line with how they operate.

Or... don't operate.

At the same time.

Somehow.

It turns out that unbodied demons really aren't that much of a threat to Selekhael compared to a mortal. The impossible beings appear as little more than vaguely nauseating smudges to her senses and as such it can't crawl in through her eyes like it tried to do with Benedict. It can, however, tell that she means it ill and respond in kind by directing a lance of hatred and agony at her. The lance isn't just a feeling. It is an actual physical thing aiming to skewer her. This is, of course, impossible. Which means her preternatural defenses don't offer that much defense against it.

So...

Getting skewered would be bad.

The attack is very powerful, but also very clumsy.

Meanwhile!

"Ah, what methods were you using for possession hardening?" Watcher Ballentine asks curiously. "That would be an, ah, interesting point of overlap between methodologies for-"

Watcher Sanchez clears his throat.

"Or, ah, perhaps that is a conversation for another time. The imps are inherently paradoxical amalgamations of eldritch and diabolical power that have corrupted the metaphysical remains of mortals. Their contradictory nature makes it difficult for, ah, most rule-based magical systems to contain them."

Terrible things.

"The procedure will require drawing a small amount of your blood and then performing a ritual that renders it dead. This will in turn serve as an attracting force that will cause the imps to vacate your body to infect the necrotic blood sample. From there they can be safely banished as doing so carries no risk to dragging pieces of your metaphysical existence with them."

And how long?

"The procedure should not take more than, ah, fifteen minutes. We will run the notepad test again after the ritual is completed to ensure the infection has been completely removed."

Sounds like a plan!

Meanwhile!

Inside is just strange is a pretty safe take on things.

Also!

Apples are saved.

That's excellent. Nothing worse than wasted apples. Especially when there are hurt people who could use some nice apples.

"A sign of something," Glory agrees, her ears swiveling this way and that. One of them is focused on Seraphina while the other is twitching around in the direction that flare of celestial power had just flagged out in. Hmm... "I might be able to help if you don't want to run through the hail to the other tent. Trog's and Inari's are both offering temporary quarters. The Sweet Spring Spa in Carousel Court is offering their rooms to people displaced by the disaster as well."

Those all sound nice maybe.

[bc56]

Spirit Bomb
Wow that lance looks really deadly.
It also looks really inaccurate. Selekhael dodges, circling around the demon and approaching closer, trying to get into shotgun range. One blast should send this thing back to the pit from whence it came or whatever. Then she can go back to her room at Trog's and relax. This has been stressful.

[Vahnavoi]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

The swordsman climbs after Batsael as fast as he can. On the way, he cuts a corner off of another platform and flings it at her. "It's more like your arena walked into me!", he shouts. There isn't much room between them and the top anymore - if he can't knock her down soon, the futti is better off just winning this thing on its own.

[Morty]

[Arkham Street - Black Goat Park]

"You're welcome!" the gold-eyed goat bleats back, prancing in a merry little circle. Though soon it finds itself laughing at Feathers' question. "A host? Haha, I don't know if I've ever found a revelry pitched by the beast-sprites to have a host. They're a little more spontaneous than that! They just start getting restless now and again and they incite a party. Like the beasts they inhabit they don't do a great deal of thinking ahead. Though, haha, I suppose the fat bears might count as thinking ahead. Or at least eating ahead."

Then the goat is not a goat. More like some strange hybrid of a goat, a cat, and a rabbit, all shaggy and black with those luminous golden eyes and a mischievous smile that seems a little too wide for its face. And, of course, great big long floppy ears. "Are you the sort of fae that has a name? OH! Or a title, maybe? You seem fancy enough for a title."

"The title I bear is Silent Feathers Drifting," the newcomer says. His bright eyes assess the creature in front of him. "And to whom am I speaking?"

[5a Violista]

[Spirit Bomb]

Seraphina doesn't know how to swivel her ears around, so she just has to pay attention to multiple things with the same ears.

The apples that she saved, she puts back in a safer place, with the rest of the fruit.

To show off her ability to look at something while still being involved in a different conversation, Seraphina looks over at the same direction of the flare of power. However, instead of talking about that, she considers the places that the pony listed off. "I don't have very much money, but that probably doesn't matter for now, right?" she says.
It's true that she doesn't have much money left. She used some in Riverside, a bunch in Skyside, and the rest in little villages here and there.

She sighs, and thinks.
Trog's and Inari's sound like large businessplaces owned by certain people and are probably kinda weird. Wouldn't put the owner's name in the title if it wasn't weird. "I have to admit, I really like alliteration. The Sweet Spring Spa sounds incredibly tempting. What's it like?"

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street - Black Goat Park]

"Wow that IS a title, isn't it? Well Feathers, do you mind if I call you Feathers? We pookas don't usually have names of our own as such. Usually we just go by whatever the nice mortal communities we harass name us. And the fine people here at Arkham Street have been calling me Ol' Shaggy."

The pooka DOES look pretty shaggy with the long black fur.

"Mostly I've been spooking people out walking alone at night, which never gets old let me tell you."

At that word the pooka shifts again, becoming a vague, threatening black shape where only his luminous golden eyes and gaping mouth are clearly distinguished.

It is, as he said, pretty spooky.

"Great, isn't it? I think I can give the local barghests a run for their money."

Is that all this creature does? Pranks mortals?

Yes.

That is exactly right.

Meanwhile!

Tristan definitely watches Jade's back.

Well, if we're being totally honest his eyes are a little lower than that but hey close enough, right?

There's definitely something strange about this situation. Jade thinks this 'Sandy' person is fae. Tristan isn't quite so sure. Faerie adjacent maybe? Faerie blasted? Enchanted somehow? He can't put a finger on it but there's definitely something up.

Jade demands the crowd of fae to stop offering lewd suggestions, which results in more jeering. 'Sandy' asks for permission to leave?

What's Sandy even doing at a party if they didn't want to be here to begin with? Some kind of compulsion?

At Jaahlyn's question there's a loud mostly affirmative cheer along with a few more muddled replies from fae who aren't totally clear what's going on. So that counts, right? Does 'Sandy' get to leave now? Several satyrs apparently decide that 'Sandy' getting permission to leave the party is a cause for celebration and get into an impromptu drinking contest in Sandy's honor.

What a bunch of doofs.

Meanwhile!

Well now.

What's this?

A twist to the story?

How often is someone adept enough to warp there own memories as the dream presents them? What a fascinating little mouse the kumiho has stumbled upon this evening. Maybe coming to this party wasn't a waste of her time after all.

Mhairi is looking increasingly nervous as they move down the beach, glancing over her shoulder at every strange sound that comes from the woods. In the dark of night the shadows of the trees are looming, grasping, moving as if every one of them might conceal a lurking threat. "Are you sure it's safe to be coming this way?" she asks uncertainly. "What about the clan in the woods?"

She moves closer to Braeg, clutching his arm.

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

"There are lots of Paths to climb the Tower. I think I've got a good one, but I'm not in a hurry start. Gotta build a good foundation first," Futti retorts as it continues its work on the barrier it has built around the apex. It doesn't look like it's in any hurry to win. Not in the least. That series of shells means just chopping through it won't work, but if Futti keeps rebuilding it. And it seems to be doing a pretty good job of keeping the cover between itself and Batsael so the seraph can't get a bead on exactly where it is. If Batsael takes a shot, she'll be shooting blind. "Who cares about the creep's drops? I want some knowledge. What happens if a creep touches the apex first? Maybe something cool will happen? Maybe nothing? Maybe something! The Eternal Game has got some cool secrets hidden in it and I want to unearth all of them! You won't find any if you only care about drops."

Batsael is nearly within reach of the shells around the apex-

-and the swordsman is close behind.


[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

Will the Dark Maid even listen at this point?

She DID just get fed a Witch. Part of a Witch. Most of a Witch?

There's still a grief seed left so the Witch must still be around maybe sort of?

Who knows Witches are weird.

Catherine touches the grief seed to her Magical Girl gem, siphoning away some of the darkness and restoring her magic. Then she drops the spent seed into her top-hat before putting it back onto her head again.

She also seems pretty skeptical about Obsidian's claim to being a regular girl with regular girl things like legs and hair. It sounds like she's hung up on the 'girl' part rather than the 'magical' part which has got Catherine wondering if maybe Obsidian isn't human but rather is something else. Like maybe a demon? Or a dragon? There's a whole bunch of overlap between demon girls and dragon girls in the Nexus.

"Right," Catherine replies, clearly not convinced. She dismisses her transformation, returning her to a pretty mundane looking outfit and causing Mittens to resemble just a regular cat rather the a big spirit cat! She's still a spirit cat. She just LOOKS like a regular cat. Which is a very important distinction since what if someone sees Catherine walking around with magical Mittens they might realize that she's secretly Nekohammer! "I'll believe you're a Magical Girl just like me," Catherine says, which is a white-lie to make Obsidian feel better. "It's okay, you don't have to worry about me thinking you might be something else."

She's totally thinking Obsidian is something else.

"Do you use up magic if you stay transformed?" Catherine asks.
"Mrow."
"Yeah, that's a good idea Mittens. I really worked up an appetite from that fight! There's a noodle stand nearby you want to come with me?"

Oh no.

Catherine eats regular dead things for food just like all the other humans do. If Obsidian refuses Catherine might realize that she isn't a regular human!

[Deathkeeper]

Midnight Park

Artie would gladly give the ponies dating advice if they asked.
That's kind of her thing at the moment. It's what happens when you don a Mask for something so incredibly specific. For now she'll let them give Jaahlyn their unlife stories and princess based gossip.

Black Goat Park

At the cries of the fae (particularly the fauns), Rowan's form shakes and blurs.
POOF!
The faun is replaced by a young (and male) elk-centaur, a black shirt on his chest and a set of fairly impressive antlers. He does look at awful lot like Queen Peach supposedly looks, without all the fruit growing out of his flanks.
"...huh. That should have made me human again. I guess there's so many fae here the hex doesn't know what to do. I guess this is alright." At least he knows how to be this.

[Earl of Purple]

Fairy Godfather's Hotel

"You don't get it. I'm fae, only a little half-fae, but still fae. Debt and obligation and tricks are how we interact with the world, and it's more important for me. If I don't repay you, my fae-ness is weakened and I probably stop being able to shrink and grow. And I live in a shoebox, so even if I weren't a thief what used that to help my trade I'd either have to find a man-sized apartment or find meself stuck with whatever neighbours I got. If I don't like 'em, I get big and move my shoebox to another shelf in Toytown." So it's quite important to her, and why she didn't just run away to seek help elsewhere. There's also a time limit on the debt before she loses her abilities, but it's quite a long one.

Spirit Bomb

"Several. The insides of my undergarments are sewn with protective symbols based upon Minoan labyrinthine patterns, and I wear a polished hagstone about my neck and a saint's fingers in a pocket over my heart. In addition, my mask is enchanted to purify anything entering my body through mouth, nose and lungs. I donned that especially, as I have previously demonstrated its efficacy against plague spirits during an... archaeological dig of a mass grave dug nearly seven centuries ago, and wore it again when I bound a spectre into the guillotine it was anchored to." So mostly rule-based magic systems, as well as stolen faith and an ancient superstition. Also, the 'archaeological dig' was no such thing- Benedict was looking for a spectre at the time, in the hope the panic and hopelessness of the Black Death had lingered after mass death and coalesced into such a spirit that then managed to linger.

"I consent to this. May I watch the procedure? I am always highly interested in learning new methods and techniques." Genuinely true; curiosity is Benedict's driving motivation. Well, that and his newfound desire to reform his house.

[Rebonack]

[Spirit Bomb]

Wearing a hagstone would help Benedict win lawsuits against ghosts if certain ancient historians are to be believed.

"I, ah, I see. Those are all understandable precautions against most spirits. Unfortunately the paradoxical nature of demons, even lesser specimens such as imps, allows them to largely ignore such things. Above all they seek flesh to become embodied again, which you no doubt noticed when, ah, the demon was attempting to cause you to look at it. Had it done so it would have entered your body through your eyes. Covering one's eyes in a demon-infested area is the only certain way to keep them out. Afterwards screenings such as these are prudent to purge, ah, less dire infections," Watcher Ballentine explains. "Your arm, please."

Should the arm be presented she'll draw some blood, about as much as one would typically give in a blood donation.

The blood will be placed within a glass vessel and a carefully measured volume of alchemical reagent added to it, causing it to putrefy within a matter of minutes. As the blood rots Benedict will be able to feel that sensation of lifting malaise gradually strengthening. And as it does horrible shapes begin squirming in the rotting blood.

While the blood is busy rotting Watcher Ballentine continues to speak.

"Thankfully the manifestation of a powerful demon is a devastating event; it leaves little in the way of flesh behind for it to inhabit. This is of course, ah, a dreadful tragedy as well. Many lives lost. Many ghosts created, all corrupted and decaying into imps. Without hosts to inhabit they will, in time, slip away into Nowhere, the unplace which demons seethe in chains of darkness. My colleges and I will do what we can to expedite this process."

After a few minutes of 'bleeding' the imps from Benedict, Watcher Ballentine gives a nod to Watcher Sanchez who faces the bloody imp-mass with whisk broom in hand. He raises it toward the imps and begins to speak, "By the Sign of Koth and the Way of the King. By the closed eye. By the spade. By the winnowing fan. The river. The mountain. The storm. By the bones of this world and it's living heart, YOU ARE ABJURED!"

Then he makes a sweeping motion with his broom toward the imps and they, along with the blood and the glass vessel containing them, are gone.

As if they never were.

He places the broom back on his belt.

That was not mere faith. That was a direct application of divine power and dominion.

Watcher Ballentine offers the notepad and pen to Benedict once again. "If you will? As you did before. We need to be certain the infection has been wholly cleared from your body."

Meanwhile!

"Money shouldn't matter, no, this is a service to the community," Glory replies with a reassuring smile. "Sweet Spring Spa is a bath house and hotel on Carousel Court. Most of the rooms there are more properly meant for people who area little shorter than you and with more legs, but they have plenty of larger rooms for taller guests. You might end up having to stay in one of the smaller rooms, or possibly share a larger room with a room mate until further accommodations are arranged."

Staying at a bath house spa definitely sounds nice.

Probably nicer than living in a lean-to on a beach.

Meanwhile!

It turns out that Selekhael is exactly right.

The lance screams past her, splashing against a building some distance away and causing it to... writhe in agony?

Somehow?

Apparently the fact that buildings can't writhe in agony makes relatively little difference here.

Then she blasts the awful thing with her blessed shotgun.

Which causes it to begin jittering.

And screaming.

Jittering and screaming faster and faster and faster and more violently until it just-

Voop!

Sort of implodes in on itself.

And now it's gone. Quest complete! Not only are the rewards pretty nice, this one comes with a WHOLE BUNCH of Renown within Inside. And apparently a small amount with the Watchers? Huh. Wonder who they are?


[Midnight Park]

Yes!

For how long?

Are there any nice snakes Artie knows? Is she into equestrians? There are way more of those around here than snakes.

The unicorn mare who has been quiet thus far speaks up, her voice so soft it's almost a whisper. "She used to be like us. With an undead curse that was eating her from the inside. But she opened her heart up to Harmony and became... more. She set herself free and broke her chains. And then she came for the rest of us; to shatter the heart of gloom forever."

[5a Violista]

[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

There's no need to worry! Even though the Mysterious Crimson Maid has been gaining more strength and sentience as the familiars and witch have been eaten, she's still one hundred percent under the control of the Draconic Mistress Obsidian so long as she maintains her transformation! Technically a sentient undead with its own goals and motivations and power based on both the witch and who the witch was before becoming a witch (made stronger due to being in its own body), and also with a touch of Obsidian's influence, but its connection to Obsidian's active power is enough that it still completely listens and obeys. So! So long as Obsidian doesn't end her transformation, there's no danger of the Mysterious Crimson Maid wondering who it is, why it's here, and what it should do.

Meanwhile, Obsidian has no clue why Catherine would be skeptical about Obsidian's claim of having legs and hair. She obviously has legs and hair! Literally right there! Catherine must have been some kind of legless hairless thing like a snake in her past life. Which, of course, Obsidian respects because snakes are cool.
"Um. Yes. I do?" Obsidian says, not really sure if she actually uses up magic if she stays transformed or not. She's never actually thought about that. "So."

She...ends her transformation. The one with the frilly dress; she stays looking like a girl.
Her frilly dress turns mostly into a black dragonscale-leather jacket.

Of course, Obsidian recognizes that the narration is totally right. She's going to have to eat dead food! Obsidian has no choice but to agree and go along with it.
...
Luckily she's feasted on a lot of delicious things today, even though she still feels hungry. So maybe she can put up with it? Obsidian swallows in dread.

"Yeah, you come too," she tells the Mysterious Crimson Maid, before going with Catherine because clearly Catherine knows where gross food place is located.


The Mysterious Crimson Maid doesn't immediately obey, because Obsidian no longer has direct command.
There's a lot to consider and a lot to process.
Like, a lot.


[Spirit Bomb]

"I've stayed in a tent before; being in a room that I can't stand up in isn't that unusual," Seraphina says. As long as you spend most your time outside, it's not a problem at all. Because it's not you can hit your head on the sky.

Anyway. "Yeah." She's thought about it. "Sounds fine." Especially a place with an actual bath? Not just fine, that sounds amazing. Better than bathing in a river or something.

"Is it far from here? Inside seems pretty large," she says. "And, after that, what are the plans for getting people to a place they can support themselves again? I imagine I'm not the only one who doesn't have money, and the charity can't just last forever."

[bc56]

Spirit Bomb
With the demon either dead or gone (it's hard to tell which), Selekhael heads directly for Trog's Tavern, her need for rest and relaxation strong.
She didn't realize the area was cordoned off, but she sees the police soon enough.

In the meantime, she invests some of her new points into the newly available Demon Hunter talent. That thing, demon apparently, was nasty and horrible, and she doesn't want anything else like it loose in the world.

Black Goat Park
Well that's a surprise. Explains why Sandy seemed so uncomfortable too. How'd that even happen?
Jade slips back to Tristan's side. "Mission accomplished," she jokes.

Red Hook Pier
Batsael glances up. "You think it matters? Well, it doesn't, because you're forgetting something." She pauses for a moment, a triumphant smile on her lips.
There's but a split second to act before she unleashes something that's got her very pleased with herself - if no one acts immediately, there may be consequences.

[Rebonack]

[Spirit Bomb]

The demon is gone and dead. Also neither gone nor dead. This would typically be the case, but the Blessing of Nought seems to have resolved the paradox for the time being and the demon is very much not here any longer.

Which is good.

It being here was very bad.

There are a few more imps that can be blasted on the way out that will harass Selekhael, but they can be dispatched with relative easy. She cuts a swath straight through the blasphemies on her way toward Trog's.

Also?

She unlocks Demon Hunter which immediately results in-!

The Things in the Dark Fear ME: Buy the Demon Hunter talent

The effect sounds useful enough. When Selekhael evokes all four spheres of her Path at once, in addition to whatever else she manifests her Path as, her weapons also gain the Blessing of Nought. If she had that tool in her toolkit she would have been able to head straight for the demon without having to mess with the crucible first. That would be really handy, especially if an area were over-run with MANY demons since the Blessing doesn't last too terribly long. In fact, it apparently only lasts for one more layer.

Whatever a layer is.

She could probably ask about that in the chat. Someone would probably call her stupid for asking but there's a good chance of being at least one helpful answer.

Anyway!

Cordon.

There are quite a few Intersection officers at the edge of the devastation along with a pair of very intimidating looking people wearing black suits and sunglasses. One of them is holding a push broom and the other one has got a crowbar. Somehow these people strike Selekhael as very threatening and dangerous rather than just people deeply incongruous.

And then, as she gets near the cordon proper, she may notice that a series of orange traffic cones have been set up in a ring around it. Each cone has painted on it an odd symbol that resembles a three pointed crown under an arc with five rays extending through it somewhat reminiscent of a stylized sunrise.

Upon trying to walk past the cones it will feel like Selekhael has just run face-first into a brick wall.

"I take it you're the triumphant demon slayer," the taller of the two men addresses the no doubt confused ophan. "My name is Watcher Smith. This is Watcher Singh. We would like to ask you a few questions."

Meanwhile!

"You should be able to stand up, but the ceiling will be a bit low," Glory replies with a stifled laugh. She stands a bit taller than a human would if they were on their hands and knees. Mostly because of longer legs and a longer neck. But if she were standing up on her hind hooves she would probably be about as tall as a human. Little for a horse, definitely, but not THAT little. "There's a Riftline station not too far from here. You can ride it to Carousel Court. From the station there are some signs that have been set up pointing to the bathhouse."

Sounds easy enough?

"I'm really not sure what the long term plans are," Morning Glory admits. "I've just been helping with the immediate relief. If you're looking for work, though, it isn't hard to find. There's a surplus of mysterious assassins and legendary sell-swords in the Nexus and high demand for people willing to carry sacks of fertilizer. Just look for a business with a help wanted sign up and ask what they need."

Sounds pretty simple!

Way more simple than filling out job applications and then uploading resumes that contain all of the same information you just filled out.


[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

Okay!

To the noodle shop!

"Something you need to remember," Catherine says as they walk off toward the restaurant in question. "Is that you shouldn't use your Magical Girl name when you aren't transformed. So when I'm transformed I'm Dazzling Spirit-Cat Trainer Nekohammer!"
"Meow."
Catherine rolls her eyes at the cat. "Or just Nekohammer if you don't feel like saying the whole title because yes, Mittens, it IS kind of long. But when I'm not transformed you can call me Catherine since that's my real name."

Boy, all these magical girl rules sure are complicated.

"So is Obsidian your real name or your Magical Girl name?" Catherine asks curiously.

They need to get that worked out first.

She doesn't really think too much about Crimson Maid because that is clearly Obsidian's familiar (or something?) and she's got that situation under control. Also it is kind of weird and gross and Catherine doesn't want to think about it too much.

[bc56]

Spirit Bomb
Selekhael looks deeply uncomfortable at this development. She's not sure who these people are (wait wasn't Watchers one of the things she gained Renown with?) but those barrier symbols are very disturbing and they carry those cleaning supplies like weapons. "What are those things? I, uh, guess I can answer some questions." She doesn't act like a triumphant demon slayer, or much like a fighter at all. Mostly she just looks exhausted.

[Lord Magtok]

A Prime Target

Spoiler

Show

[A Prime Target]

Wait, so the government isn't involved? These are just some random robot-haters that happened to be picking on an incredibly powerful AI?

Oh, good! That simplifies things quite a bit. The gynoid doesn't need to worry so much about overwhelming odds against them. The only people who are going to show up already have.

Yeah! You tell them, Prime! Whoo! [^0^]

Ooh! Ooh! I think there might be something else I can do! Give me a minute, it's going to be tricky...

[====|-------]

The barrier around the statue flickers as the gynoid recalculates the accoustic functions that protect it, to incorporate a second element into the fight.

A low thrum permeates the room as a second construct, a nearly-transparent but blue-tinted sphere, manifests just a few feet behind Geneva's position. Waves form between the outer shell and a slowly-growing internal component, the whole thing becoming more and more visible over the course of a few seconds, until finally-

Calculations complete! As you organics would say... get rekt, scrubs! [>u<]

BOOM

The sphere detonates, radiating out a percussive wave of air. It's not much worse than just a loud noise (in effect, that's sort of what it is), but being that close to it is definitely going to result in hearing loss and potentially stagger anyone standing too near it.

[A Prime Target]

Alright.

The railgun is ready to fire and Geneva has a relatively clear shot. That barrier is still surrounding the statue and it's-

The hippogriff tastes the air with an outstretched wing.

Some kind of acoustic effect?

A standing wave meant to serve as a quasi-physical barrier. Would a projectile from her railgun be able to penetrate it? She would posit the answer is yes. But it would also dampen the impact of the projectile. Ideally she needs to do something about the barrier before she can-

Then a new feeling brushes her senses as the air begins humming behind her.

Oh. Huh.

A pressure bomb.

How quaint.

Not weather magic, as such. Some kind of acoustic technology? What an interesting application. No time to ponder technological mysteries right now, especially not mysteries being manifested by Prime's apparent robotic minion.

As the bomb detonates Geneva wraps her wings around it, the whole concussive blast-wave held coherent and coruscating in the grip of her magic. Then it's just a matter of a half turn, aiming, and-

Geneva snaps her wings wide before clapping them shut on the stored power, releasing it as a needle-fine sonic lance aimed at the damaged gynoid's power core. Or, rather, more or less at the center of the machine's mass. Usually that's where power cores are kept, where they can be best protected by armor. The hippogriff pours a little of her own magic into the focused thunder-clap to ensure proper penetration.

Hopefully knocking out the minion takes the shield down as well. Then she can make her shot at the statue.

A Prime Target

The pews no longer moving (Earl thinks), the power-armour clad figure raises her railway rifle and launches a fifteen-centimetre long iron nail propelled by a burst of steam. Standard bullets are faster, but at this short range and at a static target it should hit. If the pews are still moving, the former Railroad Operative will shoot at one of those, hoping to pin the wooden bench to the wall or floor with the large spike.

The meteor hammer also flies out, thrown by the girl holding it to hit and disrupt the conjuration of blood erupting from the floor. The steel sphere on the end of its chain has a lot of weight, and bears some enchantment to disrupt magic it comes into contact with- mostly to serve at disrupting physical undead.

The spiders pop and scream as the hellfire leaks into their own extradimensional pocket, burning them to ash. The warlock who summoned them yelps and falls to his knees, very small spiders crawling from his nose.

[A Prime Target]

Contrary to what Prime might have expected, Calm Reed doesn't try to dodge or block the pew as it comes crashing down on her. Instead she simply bows her head slightly and interlocks her wrists above it. The wood seems to strike water when it reaches her, its force dissipating and the improvised bludgeon suddenly feeling far heavier than it should be to Prime's telekinesis. He may not be capable of feeling regret, but there's nonetheless a strange, unnatural sensation of it trying to worm its way in.

The monk seems to simply power her way through the blow on her way to Prime, but it's not as effortless as she makes it look. Her knees buckle just for a second and a blue glow appears around her as she channels her Essence to lend her strength. But like a river coursing down its age-old course, she charges Prime, hoping that her direct maneuver catches him off-guard.

"I would take offense to your efforts to deafen the opposition, but if they're not going to engage with my rhetoric, hearing is wasted on the lot of them," Prime remarks, before catching a railroad spike with the palm of his hand with a smile. I'm sure that would be unbelievably painful for most people, but seeing as this isn't even Prime's own body, he's largely unmoved, and throws the railroad spike back at the power armored figure's throat, with enough speed to pierce right through if left uncontested.

"And you, if you think I'll so easily fall to-" Prime falters for a moment, as his necromantic blood puddle collapses, the malevolent energy that was manipulating it neutralized by the girl's meteor hammer before it can swell up and wash over Calm Reed like Prime originally intended. With the shield he'd originally meant to use out of the picture, he panics and impulsively refocuses on the power-armored foe, trying to telekinetically seize their arm, twist it to point at Calm Reed, and force their finger on the trigger to launch poorly-aimed railroad spikes at Calm Reed's back before she can get within arm's length of Malice's very punchable face. It's unlikely he'll get more than one spike in the right place this way, trying to aim with the arm of someone who isn't even under his direct control, but if he can just buy another moment of safety, he can put together a better plan, one that will put that stupid godling in her place.

[Vahnavoi]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

The swordsman doesn't know what the girl is pausing for, but he has a feeling it won't be anything good. Evoking the Paths would be too slow, and he's still a bit too much behind to grab or reach her in that split-second - so he draws his shorter sword and throws it in one quick motion, hoping it will be fast enough to cross the distance. Whether it hits her blade or pommel first, its thrown with such force that it could knock a real girl of Batsael's dimensions right off the tower - if it hits, that is.

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

A sword thrown from one side and-

"Is it a grenade?" the other putti asks from behind its cover, lobbing an incendiary grenade down at Batsael which forcefully explodes in a shower of burning thermite and napalm.

That said?

The other putti drifts out!

Oh no!

It's probably heading for the win since Batsael is so close!

Whatever she's doing she had better do it fast.

It is likely that this match is going to be decided in the next few moments.

[bc56]

Red Hook Pier
Before the sword or the grenade hit, Batsael vanishes.
Then she appears again, trapped in a cubical prism and falling out of the sky. "Fluff you cheeeeeeeaaaaaaaaateeeeeeeeeers!" She screams as she plummets past.

[Vahnavoi]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

The swordsman is cursing loudly due to both his throw and the grenade missing - plus he has to swing out of the way to avoid being hit by that grenade himself. He's almost resigned himself to losing this game, when Batsael suddenly falls past.

"Huh."

He watches her fall for a second, disbelieving his good luck. Except, it wasn't luck, was it? A big grin spreads on his face as he resumes climbing. "Go Team Hoshiki!", he exlaims as he hauls himself on the top of the tower. "So, that's that. Now I just touch the light?" If futti lets him, he does just that. Time to see if it is possible for a "creep" to win!

[Rebonack]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

The putti can't help but get in a barb here, waving as the other empyrean falls out of view, "Gee gee Batsael, better luck next time!"

But.

It wasn't luck at all, was it?

It was extensive investment in trap and building talents along with plenty of practice.

The purpose of traps isn't necessarily to blow up your foes with them (though that isn't unwelcome) it is to restrict their options so they do what you want them to do.

"Go Team Hoshiki!" the putti repeats, tottering off to the side to allow the swordsman access to the shimmering point of alien light. This close to it he'll be able to feel waves of power exuding to it, like a pinprick in the night sky letting through heavenly light. "Yeah! Whoever touches it first wins. When I did it I just got my reliquary filled up a bunch and access to the advancement match."

That it hasn't ever won.

But...

Now that it has faced off against an iron-host and come out on top for the first time? It has some tricks it wants to try next time.

"But creeps haven't got a reliquary so who knows what'll happen! Maybe nothing. Maybe you'll get a neat artifact. Maybe you'll get a funny cosmetic. Maybe you'll explode! Who knows?"

The putti sure doesn't.

The Apex is touched and the match ends.

One of the swordsman's weapons may now be endowed with the essence of Quality. With a stroke of his larger sword the swordsman may cut an imperfection from a thing. This effect has a cooldown (3<d6).

Also?

He gets a funny cosmetic. A little ring-style halo that he can place above his head if he so desires. It'll just hang there looking shiny. This marks him as an unofficial participant in an arena! Also if he hangs onto the halo with both hands it will reduce his terminal velocity considerably.

This will be very important in the near future.

"Oh neat you DID get an artifact! AND a cosmetic! Huh, that's good to know. By Mister Creep! I hope Batsael doesn't assassinate you later this was fun!"

Then with a hollow VOOMP! the putti and their alien towers all vanish. Not that there were many towers left thanks to those wily satyrs.

The swordsman is now standing on nothing very, very high up in the air.

[5a Violista]

[Spirit Bomb]

Speaking of being about as tall as a human! Seraphina is about as tall as a human.
Because she is a human, though.

But...
the Riftline.
Seraphina sighs. The Riftline has basically never taken her where she wanted to go. "That's weird: I really would've thought sell-swords would be much more amenable to physical labor," she says.

She looks up at the sky, waiting for the sky to clear in case the hail picks up again.
"So...yeah. Assuming the Riftline behaves this time, sounds simple enough to get there." Train, get on the one going towards Carousel Court. She pauses, then clarifies, "Seriously, I'm pretty sure the Riftline is the least reliable transport service I've ever used. You'd think it literally being on rails would mean it would at least have a chance of bringing you to your destination."

Okay, that's enough complaining about being lost around the Nexus for who-knows-how-long now due to the Riftline only once working properly, in all the times she tried to use it.


[Mysterious Crimson DracoProtector Obsidian]

"Yes, I heard people call you that," Obsidian says. Nekohammer. See? She did remember it!
She walks alongside Catherine.
"It's both! Both my real name and my girl magic name! It's the best name ever so there's no point in picking a different name."

Obsidian can see the noodle shop as they get closer to it.
How could she make it so she can stomach down the noodle food? Just pretending it's alive because it's noodly like arms and legs won't help, because she would still be able to taste it. Maybe she could ask the noodlesmith to put some fresh leaves and plants in it? At least then it'll be palatable. And maybe some meat in it too, and then secretly ask to not cook it. If that happens and it's fresh enough then maybe she'd be okay eating it.

Ugh, why do all those people have to insist on eating gross dead stuff? It's disgusting! Probably some kind of status thing to them.

[Ironsmith]

[Arkham Street - Black Goat Woods]

Braeg yawns and stretches, working his way back up to his feet. If this little game of theirs was going to go on for much longer, he'd need to stretch his legs for just a bit. Not long- a minute at most- and when he's done, he'll just settle back down next to the kumiho.

"T-they shouldn't bother us." Braeg lies. "I've been up here h-hundreds of times before. They haven't given me any t-trouble."

Not and technically true, respectively. He's never been this far into the woods.

But he still needs to keep running. He's not going to be able to go back. Neither can Mhairi.

"Just s-stay close to me. I'm s-sure they're not even around."

[A Prime Target]

...Uh-oh. 0_0

Fortunately, none of the gynoid's critical components are located in her chest, except for a few servo control modules that are already fried and won't exactly be rendered less functional by the attack.

The more important fact is that this is going to have a substantial effect on her position. As all of her projections exist relative to her, that means her current parameters aren't going to have the barrier up protecting Prime's statue anymore; she goes back four meters, so does the cylinder. She'll need a moment to recalculate and get the barrier back.

Oh, and to top it all off, it sounds like Prime's mad at her.

S-sorry, sir! >_< I didn't think she'd be able to do that!

To be completely honest, I'm not entirely certain *what* she did. That's a *complete* defiance of all the known laws of physics. Until I can be certain, I'll just, um, get back to protecting the statue. Again, so sorry!

She's as good as her word. As soon as she comes to a rest, she'll throw the barrier up again, hoping nothing bad happens during its momentary lull.

[Fairy Godfather's Hotel]

"...I see." Yuvan frowns. "And I don't suppose clearing that debt would be as simple or as convenient as waving my hand and saying so."

Probably not. If it were, he would probably have already cleared the debt just by saying it didn't exist in the first place.

"What would constitute repayment? Would you be able to release yourself of that obligation with a small, recurring service, for instance? Would it need to be an equivalent in value? Something of that nature?"

[Vahnavoi]

[Arkham Street - Red Hook Pier]

Yeah, he figured something like this would happen. There's something oddly familiar about this sequence - reaching up to touch a blinding light, only to have the ground fall away under him.

Stairs of light, beginning from nothing, ending in nothing. Infinite blackness all around.

There's that intrusive thought once again. It distracts him from the shiny new halo above his head. Wind catches his clothes and he begins to spin. Maybe his billowing clothes would slow down his fall enough for it to not be fatal, given his superhuman endurance, or maybe not. It remains unseen, for he never hits the ground. Out of some weird instinct, a dozen meters above the ground, he slashes at the air below him. There's a sound akin to glass shattering, and he vanishes from view. For a brief moment, anyone watching from the ground might notice a dark tear in the air where the swordsman disappeared, like a misplaced patch of the blackest night sky.

[Morty]

[Arkham Street - Black Goat Park]

"A fine enough looming shape." Silent Feathers Drifting doesn't sound particularly impressed. He witnessed something adequate, but not outstanding. "Lets the victim's imagination do most of the work. Some adjusting for the intended target is in order sooner or later, however."