V [Crawl #0001] A Clockwork World

[Arbiter]

Crawl #0001 - A Clockwork World

"So a disabled goddess, two brainwashed teens, and a metal butler walk into a bar."
–Okina Matara​

Current Members: Okina Matara, Jo'on Yorigami, Tenshi Hinanawi
Past Members: Iron Butler, Kayleigh Eudora, Mrs. Frizz

Party Meter: 50%
Quests Completed: 3

Current Coin Payouts:

Okina Matara - 3,113
Jo'on Yorigami - 2,255
Tenshi Hinanawi - 2,255

Quest #1 - Arrival in Ashport

Word Count – 6,300 words (1,575 per party member)
Content – Your party members converge in Ashport, by any means you choose. Explore the area and meet your fellow party members. Your story must feature an unusual animal.
Reward – 378 Coin each; Trinket!
Note – The Trinket will be awarded in the second Quest.


Quest #2 - The Houndmaster ​

Requirements – 3 posts per party member, 667 words per post, ~6,000 words total.
Content – Your party is joined! The Cerclops hounds are gone, but their presence in the inner districts–and their interest in you–leaves many unanswered questions. Search for more information about the Cerclops and who might be controlling them. Your story must feature a game, making a trade, and a mysterious figure.
Bonus – A party member (Okina Matara) discovers a Trinket during this Quest. During one of her posts, Okina must describe her discovery.
Reward – 480 Coin each​

Trinket – Design one Ability with a maximum cost of 200 Essence. This Ability becomes a permanent part of your character. It cannot be ranked up at any time. The Trinket must take the form of a physical item your character obtains, and as such has Removable by default. The Trinket follows all Ability rules but is not bound by your character's level cap.


Quest #3 - It's Not the Size of the Dog in the Fight, It's the Size of the Fight in the Dog

Requirements - 2 posts per party member, 663 words per post, ~5,300 words total.
Content - Having garnered access to the seedy underbelly of Tinkerdrift after a breathtaking negotiation with a certain waitress, the two remaining party members can now continue investigating the Cerclops menace and the mysterious figure shadowing their every movement. Having thinned considerably, the party might want to consider picking up a few new members to help out. Navigate the cutthroat gearwork underworld and recruit a couple more wannabe heroes, and see where your investigation takes you. Your story must feature helping a stranger.
Reward - 530 Coin each

Note - Your party's Meter has dropped below 75%!

Quest #4 - Not Out of the Woods Yet

Requirements - 3 posts per party member, 767 words per post, ~6,900 words total.
Content - Through sheer determination (and more than a little luck), the party has emerged victorious from their adrenaline-fueled battle with the Artist Formerly Known As Liz. Good work! However, there still remains the small matter of getting revenge on the mysterious figure who stuck you in the arena in the first place, and avenging (or perhaps rescuing!) the friends you lost along the way. Our beleaguered heroes have fought valiantly, but they're not done yet. Your story must feature victory at a cost, the unconventional use of technology, and fancy clothing.
Reward - 1,725 Coin each; Custom Consumable Cache

Note - To the victors go the spoils. For your incredible performance in the battle with Liz (just kidding... as the result of random rolls) you have earned some bonus Coin and a Custom Consumable Cache. During this quest, acquire the consumables however you deem appropriate.

Note - Your party's Meter has dropped below 50%!

Consumable Cache - Each party member designs a single consumable up to 500 Coin * their character level and adds it to their collection.​

 

[Kayleigh Eudora]

A cool breeze grazed Kayleigh’s cheek, caressing her skin ever so pleasantly as it suppressed the heat accumulated after a long travel through space. She Squinted her bright green eyes, they were adjusting to the light of the new world. It was her first time here on Govermorne. Even though she has read many stories of the mechanical world it still amazed her. The dream of traveling beyond the world of Erde nona was finally realized. The ticking of cogwheels were ever present as she made her first steps on solid ground.

Ashenport was a crowded place, it was packed with people rushing to either catch a ride off this planet or trying to get to customs. The cursed one kept to herself, she pulled her hoodie a bit more over her head, veiling her eyes inside a shadow. It wasn’t likely that any of the Raiders were even close but you can't ever be to careful. Like a drop of water caught in a stream the brunette moved with the waves of people swarming towards the few available custom booths.

With sharp eyes she was scanning the arrival hall for anything out of the ordinary. Just a few feet from her a petty thief was skillfully relieving their wallet from their respective owner. The thief was a child, appearing not a day older than twelve. Kayleigh turned her head and kept her own bag close to her chest. She didn't have much but wasn’t about to lose whatever she had left. The young criminal looked over, met her gaze midway. The cheekiest of smiles crossed the child’s face. The delinquent ran over to a shady figure leaning up against the wall near one of the public restrooms and handed him the loot.

Kayleigh observed, the man was obviously using these children for personal gain. She turned away, trying to ignore it. But, it started gnawing on her, she could at least have a talk with the kid? See what it’s all about. A deep sigh got let out when she turned around starting her pursuit.

“Excuse me, pardon me.” She said moving against the current, bumping and dodging other travellers. She wasn't as small nor as agile as the tiny thief, but managed to keep her eye on him nonetheless. When he turned a corner she swiftly followed and noticed a large group of people standing around in a circle. The group was murmuring incoherent, but the general tone could be read from afar. Confusion and curiosity colored the scene as they gathered around,something. As the maiden of flames got closer she noticed an unusual creature, not much larger than a dog. Teeth like needles, two tails and a single eye made the creature a very unusual sight to see. And going by the reaction of the bystanders it wasn’t a common sight around these parts either.

The little thief was amongst the crowd, obviously looking for his next victim. Kayleigh moved closer when she accidentally bumped against one of the men.

“Excuse you?” The passive aggressive comment was followed by a less friendly grasp. He held Kayleigh’s upper arm firm, trying to get her attention. The small act of violence seemed to trigger something in the dusfar peaceful creature. It started to growl and took a menacing stance.

The brunette looked around her, many strangers gathered. She wasn't looking for excitement but it seemed Kayleigh found it anyway.

 

[Optix]

The Frizz is cruisin on down Main Street, just relaxin, feelin good. It helps that she is high as fuck.

The beautiful redhead smiles widely as she navigates through the exotic crowd of Tinkerdrift. The pattern on her flowing dress is in constant flux as hundreds of glittering gold gears spin against a void black background. Liz the iguana is perched on her shoulder, but the jaded reptile finds the clockwork city boring, and quickly ends up asleep. Miss Frizzle, however, can barely contain her excitement.

“Look at that, Liz!” she would exclaim to her sleeping iguana every few seconds in her unfamiliar new voice, her beautiful honk truly gone, leaving only a normal regular human person voice.

Clockwork men ride carriages pulled by clockwork horses through the streets, taking alien lovebirds on romantic outings. Gnomish locals clatter through traffic on spindly mechanical spiderlike vehicles, their frustration at the tourists bubbling just below the surface. Upscale restaurants and bars line the sidewalks, each sign invariably written in a different alien language.

Miss Frizzle smiles broadly at everyone, her head swivelling around on her neck as she strains to take in everything at once. She spots a sign for 3.14th Street, and glances down at the smudged writing on her palm.

Right on Main Street, left on 3.14th Street, right on Downtown Avenue.

The Frizz watches the intersection for a moment, unsure of how to cross the busy street. Pedestrians are huddled together on the corners, but there are no stoplights. Miss Frizzle joins the huddle of aliens, robots, gnomes, and even stranger beings on one of the corners, and realizes they are on a gear slightly higher than the surrounding sidewalk.

After a moment, the ground beneath them lurches, and the gear they are standing on starts to spin. The four gears on each corner of the intersection rotate in an intricate dance, the vehicles and commuters passing by each other smoothly. The other pedestrians do not seem concerned; Miss Frizzle notes a blue alien reading his newspaper. The gears complete their rotation, and the Frizz is on the other side of the street, and the crowd disperses.

Miss Frizzle strolls down 3.14th street with a beaming smile on her. When she reaches the corner to turn on Downtown Avenue, a shadow passes overhead, and her mouth falls open.

A massive gear the size of an entire city block is rotating above her, its well-oiled teeth gliding soundlessly between the gear teeth of the surrounding skyscrapers, following a slow but perfect trail to the north side of Tinkerdrift.

“Wahoo,” The Frizz whispers.

Downtown Avenue is positively thriving with merchants of all kinds. A mechanical man with a clock for a face opens his trenchcoat to show the Frizz a collection of human wrists inset with jewelry, presumably for sale. A tiny Niblonian woman loudly proclaims she is selling the finest hand-crafted plumbi this side of the Lost Galaxy. A man with an octopus for a head holds out a mysterious hat that whispers cosmic secrets for spare change.

Miss Frizzle smiles to everyone, and gives change to the street performer’s as well. She finds the tech district easily, recognizable by the multicolored sparks and bangs emanating from various stalls and shops. The Frizz might not be a local, but she’s been to enough alien planets to recognize a black market when she sees one.

It takes several hours of searching, bargaining, and arguing loudly in languages she doesn’t speak before she finds what she is looking for.

A fat old red Twi’lek woman sits at a humble table, a small collection of softly buzzing contraptions laid out before her. She has her arms crossed, and is glaring silently at the increasingly frustrated Miss Frizzle.

“You have a sub-molecular ionizer right there,” Miss Frizzle says ‘calmly’. “That runs off a blasterizer. You have a self-contained particle accellorator; THAT runs off a blasterizer. You clearly scrapped all this from something with a blasterizer. Blasterizer; a little glowing blue disk.”

“You need battery,” the Twi’lek says, squinting. She points to a small glowing green rock. “Have battery. Good price.”

The sorceroscientist runs her hands through her frizzy red hair, definitely not losing her patience. “I don’t want THAT battery, I want the blue battery. The blasterizer. I know you’ve got it here somewhere.”

The Twi’lek woman glares, and the Frizz glares right back.

“Five hundred coin,” the Twi’lek says.

“One hundred,” says the Frizz wildly, unsure how much her gold coins were worth.

“Three hundred, you buy it now,” the alien says, her eyes darting left and right.

The Frizz grins. “Deal!”

Finally, with much shifting of her eyes, the red skinned alien pulls out a metal disk, glowing a bright blue in the center.

“Liz, please pay the woman,” Miss Frizzle says distractedly. The tiny green dragon loves to hoard coins, so the Frizz lets her hold their gold. Liz does not respond.

“Liz?” Miss Frizzle says, and realizes that the iguana is gone. There are screams from across the street, and a crowd is scattering.

Miss Frizzle spots Liz hissing aggressively at a dog-like creature with two tails and single eye. The creature is roughly the same size as the small dragon, and the two creatures are barring their needle sharp fangs at each other.

“Liz!” Miss Frizzle cries, running through traffic.

“He smells funny, Valerie!” The dragon calls back in a voice very much like famed jewish comedian, and America’s sweetheart, Sarah Silverman. “And he gave me a dirty look!”

The creature bolts down the alleyway.

“Liz no!” Miss Frizzle screams, but the dragon is already in hot pursuit.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Edwin Jarvis was having a bad day.

The day before, Mr. Jarvis had been accompanying Mr. Stark and some other Avengers on a mission in deep space. The Kree were causing trouble again near Jupiter. What was new? Mr. Jarvis could hardly remember who was on the team. This was unusual, as Mr. Jarvis usually had an almost uncanny memory. He was quite an excellent butler, after all.

Captain Marvel. She was there, of course. Her unique physical traits made her an obvious choice when going to space. Mr. Stark, in his specialized deep space suit, was there. The Vision, yes. Mr. Jarvis remembered him being there. Thor. Thor! Of course, the Krees' aggression was reported by the Asgardian himself.

They were flying through space largely unassisted (if you don't count Mr. Stark and Mr. Jarvis' mechanized suits). It was a simple scouting mission, for which Mr. Stark felt the team was overequipped.

He was wrong.

Mr. Jarvis couldn't remember what happened next. He knew that he had dismantled one of the Kree warships, and the consequent detonation of the warp drive.

And now the Iron Butler suit was working overtime to keep him afloat in this strange world. There were wrecks of numerous spaceships scattered everywhere, relatively small skeletons of spacecraft that had rotted away long ago. Small, furry humanoid creatures picked at the remnants, scavenging for something. In the distance, brutalist skyscrapers jutting up matter-of-factly. They were wrapped with the stain of industrialization.

Mr. Jarvis spun around, seeing the wormhole he had somehow flown through. The Vision appeared, still in outer space, and started reaching a hand forward.

The wormhole shut, and the Vision couldn't be seen.

"Alert!" his suit pinged, "Connection to Anthony Stark lost. Booting up S.T.A.R.C."

Mr. Jarvis paused. "I beg your pardon?"

Ignoring the question, the suit started speaking in Mr. Stark's voice.

"Jarvis!" the suit said, "You're stuck somewhere, huh?"

"Yes, sir," Mr. Jarvis replied, "I seem to have entered a wormhole. What is your present location?"

"Oh, I'm not the real Tony," the suit laughed, "I'm a... I'm an AI. StarkTech Technological Asset Repair Console.”

Mr. Jarvis raised an eyebrow. As much as he was supposed to serve Mr. Stark, he couldn't help but be amused at this egotistical decision. Presumably, once the Iron Butler suit lost connection to Mr. Stark, it activated an AI equivalent of Mr. Stark so that he could continue "protecting" Mr. Jarvis.

"Of course," Mr. Jarvis said, "What is your recommended course of action, sir?"

"Well, initial readings indicate that this place kinda sucks. If you go down I might get a better view.”

Mr. Jarvis descended to the ground. Something in his chest piece sparked as he landed.

“You’re leaking power, Jarvis,” STARC reported, “Heavy damage to the arc reactor.”

“You wouldn't happen to have a spare one, sir?” Mr. Jarvis flatly said, looking around the smoggy junkyard.

“No, but there’s a merchant selling them down the street.”

The butler frowned.

“Beg your pardon, sir, but am I to understand that there is a merchant who sells a powerful energy source, the design of which is a very closely guarded secret by one of the most powerful men in the world?”

STARC paused. “Yeah.”

Mr. Jarvis began clonking down the street, his armor becoming less and less responsive. This was truly a strange place. The merchant, a blue woman with two fleshy horns shooting from the top of her head, pushed hard on a price which Mr. Jarvis did not understand.

"Which coin?" the butler said.

"Coin," the woman sighed, "All use coin here."

Mr. Jarvis lifted his mask, scratching his chin a little. Reaching into the storage compartments on his back, he rummaged around for his wallet. Instead, he found a sack of coins.

"Stranger things," Mr. Jarvis muttered as STARC counted the number of coins in the sack.

“We have other interest,” the woman said, “No less 600.”

Mr. Jarvis tilted his head slightly.

“Who else showed interest in this particular product, if I might be so forward?”

The woman blinked before speaking. “My customers want privacy.”

"Of course, miss," Mr. Jarvis said, politely, "I just find it difficult to believe that you acquired such an object... legally."

"You new?" the woman said.

"To this world? Quite."

"You don't know shit about legally. You buy or no buy?"

Eventually, Mr. Jarvis managed to settle on 400 coin, if he also gave the woman his old arc reactor (or “battery”, as she called it). It was quite remarkable, really. The same as what Mr. Stark had designed. It fit right into the Iron Butler’s chestpiece.

Mr. Jarvis said, “If you would release the arc reactor, sir?”

The blue disk in the center of his chestpiece popped out, nearly taking out the woman’s eye. Mr. Jarvis wordlessly slid the new reactor in. As he did so, he heard a dragon roar.

Instinctively, Mr. Jarvis rocketed forward, searching calmly for the source of the disturbance. He found it. A young woman with a patterned dress and a fuzzy orange beehive hairdo was trying to calm a dragon. The butler frowned in confusion, then noticed the pair of strange beasts approaching them.

Mr. Jarvis landed hard on the sidewalk beside the woman, raising his glowing palms threateningly as he turned to her.

“Good afternoon, miss,” Mr. Jarvis said with his stiff upper lip, “Can I be of assistance?”

 

[Yuuka Kazami]

Reflexively she ran a hand through her hair the second she caught sight of it in her mirror, placed on the table. It wouldn’t be staying straightened for long, in this weather.

Adapting, she’d said- Adapting to just somehow being here now. That was what she had said she was doing, as she sat in a creaky chair in one of the run down restaurants in the back alleyways of Tinkerdrift. Cheap, but no doubt there were illicit drugs or gambling being run behind closed doors to make it that way. Or perhaps a money laundering front? Who could tell, in this part of town?

She slapped Mai’s hand lightly as it inched towards Satono’s side dish (which none of them had been able to positively identify, but supposedly tasted good), eliciting a disappointed whimper of apology from the servant.

At least it was something to get them to shut up for a while and let her think.

Sitting there at the scratched up tabletop the three almost looked like a functional family. Well, a functional single mother and her pair of brats. Without intense influence, Satono and Mai were acting mostly like normal humans. And while Okina didn’t truly need to eat, she had indulged and purchased herself some simple grain dish (they didn’t call it rice, but it was functionally identical) that tasted like absolutely nothing and she would mostly just push around her plate and take occasional bites of. She was instead much more proactively drinking the frankly overpriced alcohol, mostly out of old habit. It was, after all, much easier to ignore the stupid shit her Douji got up to if she wasn’t sober.

The great shrieking sound of animal claws against the glass front window of the restaurant pulled her right out of her blissful haze, though.

With a mix of curiosity, surprise, and mostly exasperation, Okina turned her head towards the door; only to catch sight of some monstrous, cyclopean canid racing by at top speed. It was soon pursued by what appeared to be a young western dragon, which was spitting embers that barely grazed its quarry’s pair of tails.

Well, she couldn't deny it was interesting here.

Roughly shoving her chair aside, Mai was the first to leap into action- literally leaping, in fact, right onto and over the table and dashing out the door. “I’m checkin’ it out!”

…This was her fault for relaxing her control on these two, for even a moment.

“Mai! Wait!” Satono leapt to her feet soon afterward, but hesitated- just for a second, but long enough for Okina to grab her wrist from across the table. At her touch, the servant’s neck and shoulders went limp, eyes momentarily glazing over.

“Ignore her for now. Help me up.”

“Yes ma’am!” Though cheerful, the reply seemed strangely like a soulless pre-recorded voice clip.

The requisite coin for their meal was tossed to the table beside all the leftovers as Satono helped the goddess stagger to her feet, allowing her to put one arm around her shoulders and putting her own arm arm around Okina’s waist, as one would. She shouldn’t have been so stupid to leave her chair at her “temporary place of residence,” (a seedy motel) but what was done was done. At the speed one would expect of a teenager helping a physically disabled woman about 20-30 feet, they made their way to the door.

Outside they were greeted with quite the sight down a nearby alley- namely, a glowing metallic man, a woman with fire orange hair, the two creatures from earlier, and Mai a few meters away seeming to actually be thinking something through for once in her life.

“I would have ordered popcorn if I knew we would end up watching this.” Okina’s joke directed at the whole situation flew right over Satono’s head, but perhaps it would land with the other two, more conscious folks.

 

[Arbiter]

SPECIAL ENCOUNTER
​

The frenzied iguana-turned-dragon slipped and scrabbled across the gear-strewn sidewalks of Tinkerdrift's marketplace, its beleaguered breath emerging in puffs of smoke and tendrils of flame. When a patron froze in its path, eyes wide with terror, it took flight with a single beat of its leathery wings, never losing sight of the thieving, one-eyed creatures below. In Liz's wake, Miss Frizzle tore through the crowd, screaming for her companion to let the creature go. Though it pained her, Liz had no choice but to ignore the Frizz. It knew something the red-headed woman didn't: one of the two-tailed things had stolen the pouch containing all their Coin.

Clearly no strangers to the hustle and bustle of Tinkerdrift, the cunning creatures darted low between the legs of a spinning gnome, scrambled up and over a clockwork carriage—its driver hollering and cracking his metal whip—and cut left, making for the bridge connecting Tinkerdrift to Ashport, the central hub of air traffic into and out of Govermorne.

Undaunted, Liz flapped her wings once before tucking them in close, dropping like a missile from the heavens toward one of the unaware creatures. Her jaws opened wide, anticipating the kill as she bore down on her prey, intent on recovering the Frizz's stolen property. The maw snapped shut on empty air, the creature avoiding the strike by inches.

Over the bridge the creatures went, slobber dripping from their jowls as they dodged and wove through the heavy foot traffic. Liz kept pace, Frizz huffing and puffing close behind, and the Iron Butler and the other woman, chasing one slave with another in tow, all of them too interested in the wild chase not to see it through to its end, bringing up the rear. All six of them crossed the bridge into Ashport.

The soot- and grime-clad port district stood in stark contrast to Tinkerdrift, filthy and disorganized, the initial platform giving way immediately to a web of narrow, criss-crossing streets and alleys choked with throngs of travelers awaiting customs officials. Liz and Frizz followed the two-tailed creatures into a series of such alleyways, the dragon diving low for another attempt at a kill. When it sensed the nearby danger it pulled up short, flapping its wings frantically for altitude, but was buried by a scrabbling ball of fur and fangs, taken down to the grimy cobblestones, hissing, spitting, and clawing.

Frizz caught up a moment later, the tongue-lashing she intended for her overeager companion catching in her throat. Three of the two-tailed, one-eyed, razor-fanged creatures advanced on her, hissing and growling. Liz managed to extricate herself from her foe, but its venomous bite had rendered one wing useless, and the dragon could only whimper and scamper to its master's side. Frizz turned to run, but four more creatures now filled the alley entrance behind her, one of them monstrous, dwarfing the others and pawing the ground anxiously. A pair of wicked horns curled out from the top of its skull.

Content – Defeat the Cerclops pack and recover the Frizz's Coin. So much for a low profile.
Reward – 200 Coin; Meter Boost
Enemies – 5 Cerclops Hounds, 1 Cerclops Alpha
​

Cerclops Hound:

A one-eyed, dog-like creature, with two tails and multiple rows of needle-like fangs. Cerclops Hounds obey a pack mentality, with a recognized alpha and coordinated, if dim-witted attack patterns. They attack with claws and teeth, their bites injecting a paralytic toxin that numbs and immobilizes the affected area for about a minute before wearing off. About as large as a medium-sized dog.

Physical Tendencies:
Power: 30%
Toughness: 20%
Quickness: 40%
Skill: 10%

Personality Tendencies:
Aggression: 80%
Cunning: 20%
Diplomacy: 0%
Support: 0%

Abilities:

Venomous Bite
Damage 1
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant

Debuff 2
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant
--Modifiers: Prolonged (1 minute)

Claws
Damage 1
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant

Agility
Agility 1
--Range: Personal
--Duration: Permanent

Cerclops Alpha:

A larger version of its Cerclops Hound pack-mates, the Alpha dictates the movements of the pack, which will converge on a single target the Alpha designates. The Alpha is recognizable by a pair of curled horns atop its head, not unlike a ram. It fights similarly to its lesser pack-mates, with the addition of a ramming headbutt attack and increased damage. When attempting to headbutt a target, the Alpha charges with tremendous, if difficult to control, speed, and the impact disorients the target for a few seconds. About the size of a large dog.

Physical Tendencies:
Power: 25%
Toughness: 40%
Quickness: 25%
Skill: 10%

Personality Tendencies:
Aggression: 60%
Cunning: 40%
Diplomacy: 0%
Support: 0%

Abilities:

Venomous Bite
Damage 2
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant
Debuff 2
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant
--Modifiers: Prolonged (1 minute)

Charging Headbutt
Damage 2
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant
Speed 1
--Range: Personal
--Duration: Sustained
--Modifiers: Inaccurate
Debuff 1
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant

Claws
Damage 2
--Range: Close
--Duration: Instant

Agility
Agility 2
--Range: Personal
--Duration: Permanent

 

[Kayleigh Eudora]

The unexpected events went from bad to worse. Kayleigh barely arrived at this world and already trouble has found her like an obsessive stalker. Not this time though, this time she was going to walk off. Eudora observed as the strange creature takes off into the distance.

Not my problem She thought to herself.

Adjusting the strap of her backpack the young traveler prepared to take off. Not drawing attention to herself has been her number one priority and she was not about to risk it by losing control in a crowded place like this. Avoiding any form of eye contact the cursed flame made her way through the crowd. Coming up to customs he noticed a long line of people, longer than before.

“What’s going on?”

The random bystander turned to face Kayleigh, “Some kind of disturbance, they are not letting anyone in or out. And I got places to be.” A slight hint of annoyance was woven through the spoken words. “Get a move on already!!” He shouted towards the end of the line.

Eudora wasn’t waiting around for this to get out of hand either. She felt trapped between a rock and a hard place. Drops of sweat appeared on her forehead, eyes shifted from one unknown noise to the other. Never before did she experience anything like this. Breathing became more difficult as the world around her was closing in on her. Panic started to take over the young woman who felt trapped amongst the crowd waiting to get out of Ashenport. With haste, Kayleigh made a path through the masses—pushing whatever unfortunate soul that was in her way aside.

Finally free from the people swarm Kayleigh kept on walking, leaving as many people behind as she possibly could. When she managed to find a quiet spot Kayleigh sat down, leaning with her back against the wall. Tears appeared in her eyes as she watched her trembling hands. The uncontrollable shaking was never a good sign. A single deep breath into her nostrils followed by a long exhale through her mouth—Kayleigh used a breathing exercise in an attempt to calm her body down. A second and third breath followed. Her sight was set on her hands and never lingered, fearing what may come.

Calm yourself, they aren’t here, you’re safe. Echoed through her mind, You’re in control. You own this curse, the curse does not own you.

Both quivering hands clenched into determined fists. As a result of the excessive clenching, the skin on top of her hands turned red. Every time a fight for control—a fight for survival. Kayleigh’s fists slowly returned to their original state, shaking no more. A sigh of relief escaped her lips, nothing scared her more than losing control, especially in a crowded environment. She felt in control once again, it time to leave. The streets were quiet, peaceful, it seemed like a different world then moments ago. With a steady pace, the fire maiden set out to find a way through customs.

“No! Shoo! Stay away!” A cry for help echoed from an alleyway. A woman’s voice by the sound of it. Against better judgment, Kayleigh went to peak around the corner. From behind the stone wall, a curious, leaf green eye appeared, observing the scene within the alleyway.

The pupils widened, a pack of strange, seemingly hostile creatures—same as she encountered before— were surrounding a strange dressed, red-headed woman. And her pet lizard it seemed. Eudora moved back around the corner, out of sight where her breathing started becoming heavy again.

Shit, why does this always happen to me. How do I keep finding these people?

She peeked again, the red-headed woman was now with her back against the wall. In a few moments, the predators would be having ginger-sandwich, with lizard salad on the side. Against better judgment, the cursed brunette placed her backpack down. Her eyes lingered—for a mere second—towards her balled fist before closing her eyes.

I am in control. It obeys me, it has no power over me. My will is stronger than this second-hand curse.

Kayleigh lifted her eyelids, a bright red-yellow light reflected in her eyes. The flame of conviction burned fiercely around her fists. The cursed brunette chuckled with a faint smile, “ I am in control.”

“Anybody hear me?! I would really appreciate some assistance.” The still unknown redhead in the alley shouted a decibel louder than before.

The fire maiden stepped around the corner, fists blazing with smoldering flames. Frizz turned her head towards the newcomer, eying a tad confused. The creatures seemed to busy eyeing up their afternoon snack. With footsteps as silent as a cat on cushions, Eudora managed to make her way to the nearest creature, who in turn stuck its nose in the air. It wasn’t hard to assume that it caught a whiff of smoldering flames. The cyclops creature turned its freakish head towards Kayleigh, it’s single eye blinked confusedly when a flaming fist punched its lights out. It cried out in agony as the smell of burned flesh overtook the small alleyway. Blinded and confused it started to panic, walking backward and shaking its head. The wounded predator jumped around, pushing against its brothers and sisters from the pack.

Kayleigh and Frizz shared a look, both of them had their eyes wide open as if to say, ‘what-the-hell-do-we-do-now’. The leader of the pack howled, sending a clear signal to both females and its one-eyed soldiers.

“Run!” Shouted Frizz.

The hunt was on.

 

[Optix]

Miss Frizzle is hauling well-toned ass down the alleyway, her hair streaming behind her like a wildfire. At her right Liz’s claws clack against the cobblestone, for once the dragon not darting between her legs. At her left is her pyrotechnic savior, although her eyes are now wide with fear. Behind them, the creatures hiss and yelp and charge with reckless abandon.

Two of the creatures jump onto the wall, skittering forward as they attempt to close off the group. Liz sees them, and banks right into another, tighter alleyway. Without hesitation, Miss Frizzle banks as well, grabbing Kayleigh’s sleeve and tugging her to follow them.

The alleyways is between two huge apartment complexes, and is filled with hundreds of clanging and steaming brass pipes. Liz seems to navigate easily, the lithe little dragon returning to iguana form and sliding through the pipes effortlessly. Liz and Kayleigh have to take it a bit slower, as plumes of boiling steam shoot unexpectedly from the rattling pipes.

The hostile little creature following the trio hesitate for just a moment, then the great horned one appears and rushes forward, and then the whole pack is swarming.

“Valerie!” cries Liz desperately. “Up here!”

For a moment, Miss Frizzle can’t find her through the cloud of steam, then a breeze passes and a section of steam clears. The little iguana is perched on a pipe several stories up outside a window. Miss Frizzle’s eyes scan the network of pipes for a moment, synapses in her brain working overtime, and she sees her path.

“Come on!” the Frizz calls to her rescuer as she begin expertly to climb, jump, and tumble her way up the pipes. The sorceroscientist grimaces as the superheated brass burns her hands.

At first Kayleigh seems unsure, but the snarling pack is gaining on them, and suddenly she is scrambling up the pipes, overtaking the Frizz, seemingly unconcerned about the scorching brass pipes. She opens the window to the apartment and hops inside, and Miss Frizzle can hear a chorus of girlish screams from inside. She reaches a hand down for the Frizz, and the sorceroscientist latches on firmly. The women share a grin as Kayleigh pulls her up, and then Miss Frizzle lets out a blood curdling scream.

One of the hounds has sunk its nasty little teeth deep into her thigh, its aberrant eyeball staring gleefully at Miss Frizzle’s anguished face as it pumps it’s toxins from it’s needlike fangs into her bloodstream.

It burns like battery acid.

The Frizz’s eyes crackle with bluewhite sparks. Her face is set in a cold mask.

“Nikoli!” she cries to the heavens. A ball of sputtering white plasma forms in her palm. “Grant me your wrath!”

There is a great electric hum, and a smell of ionized air particles

Miss Frizzle releases the ball lightning into the creature, and it lets out a demonic howl as she sends ten thousand volts into its heart.

The creature falls backwards, it’s skeleton briefly visible through its body, crashing through the pipes and causing a great cloud of steam to rise up into the alley. The Frizz sighs and wonders how much the steam will hurt, and then Kayleigh hauls her into the apartment a second before the superheat cloud rushes past.

They fall to the ground in a heap, and the chorus of screams increases.

The Frizz realizes she is in a tastefully decorated apartment, and the girlish screams are coming from a pair of naked half-orc men, sitting bolt upright in their egyptian cotton bed and holding each other tightly, their eyes wide.

“Sorry!” Kayleigh says, blushing as she runs for the front door.

Miss Frizzle grins as she follows, her eyes lingering on the men. “Lovely apartment, thank you for having us!” she calls as she sprints after Kayleigh. She can still hear their high-pitched, unbroken scream.

The women rush up a spiral staircase rotating slowly upwards, presumably on another fucking gear, and Liz jumps onto Miss Frizzle’s shoulder. Miss Frizzle grimaces, but can’t keep up with Kayleigh. The poison seems likes it’s spreading, and the wound on her thigh is pulsing with pain.

Kayleigh looks back, hesitates, and then runs down the stairs to put the Frizz’s arm over her shoulder and help walk her up the staircase.

After an agonizing eternity, they burst through a door and onto the roof of the apartment complex. Dozens of chimneys belch black smoke and soot, and stranger machines pump superheated steam into the sky. Miss Frizzle can’t see beyond a few feet as the ash stings her eyes, but her rescuer seems a bit more comfortable.

“This way,” the mysterious woman calls, grabbing the Frizz’s cuff so they don’t get separated. “I think…”

There is a howl, and through the cloud of ash comes the great horned beast, snarling and dripping venom from its fangs.

The Frizz watches in slow motion as it pounces on her mysterious savior, tackling her out of sight and into the black cloud.

EDIT:

Miss Frizzles used Focus on her Zap ability to increase it's Damage to Rank 4

 

[Dr. McNinja]

“Mr. STARC!” Mr. Jarvis shouted, “Some visuals, please!”

“On it,” the AI chirped.

As quickly as the horned hellhound charged into the smoke, the Iron Butler flew in, briefly illuminating the cloud with a blue glow.

Mr. Jarvis hovered in the air, STARC’s systems scanning intently for any life signs nearby. A dim red light washed over the smoke nearby, searching intently for the mysterious pyrokinetic young woman and the horned beast that attacked her.

“RREEEAARGH”

Mr. Jarvis’ scanners blipped as he saw the dog lumber towards an unseen target.

“Hunger Games is to your left,” STARC quipped, bringing up a red outline on Mr. Jarvis’ heads-up display, noting the location of the girl on fire.

Mr. Jarvis said, “If you would deploy a Dispensable Armor Module?”

STARC replied, “Giving a DAM.”

One of the Iron Butler’s shoulders clicked open. A packet of metal jettisoned out, rocketing towards the girl on fire.

Just as the alpha opened its jaws to bite down, the packet of metal landed on the girl. It bloomed, revealing thousands of tiny panels of steel. The panels tessellated over the girl’s body, flipping outwards and latching together and spreading over the body like water. It continued to click into place until it formed a thin replica of the Iron Man suit.

At that moment, the dog bit into the girl, then jumped back slightly, confused at why this squishy girl suddenly became very hard. It only had a moment to process this new information before a larger metal man collided into it, knocking it away. The girl panted, looking at the bloody holes in the armor. Despite the butler’s help, the dog had still shredded into the armor.

The Iron Butler was currently grappling at high velocities in the air with the horned beast, which shrieked furiously. Mr. Jarvis grit his teeth. He was starting to climb slightly, now about 10 feet above the rooftops. The wolf raked the armor as it struggled against Mr. Jarvis’ grip. It tried to bite again, but the Iron Butler let go before it could get a good hold. As the alpha dropped, writhing and shrieking, Mr. Jarvis blasted it twice. The wolf landed hard on an asbestos rooftop below.

“That fucking hurt,” STARC reported, flashing the damage report. The armor couldn’t handle much more.

Mr. Jarvis slowed himself, spinning around in the air. He raised his palms, which started whirring in response to the motion. As the hound roared up at the metal man, Mr. Jarvis let loose a series of repulser blasts, beams of white-hot energy digging into the hound. The horned beast recoiled, unable to reach the Iron Butler. It attempted to retreat back into another smoking chimney. Mr. Jarvis trailed from behind, continuing to blast the creature.

“Mr. STARC, if you could locate any weaknesses?”

“Already on it, Jarvis.”

A proximity alert rang far too late. The butler lurched forward as another wolf lunged at him from behind, shredding into the back of Mr. Jarvis’ armor. The Iron Butler did an aerial spin, launching towards another rooftop to throw the creature off.

It yelped as a small jolt of electricity crackled into its torso, causing it to let go and tumble into the street at high speeds.

Mr. Jarvis landed hard, his armor spitting sparks as he slid on the asbestos. The orange-haired woman from earlier was jogging towards him, as was the woman with the burning hands.

“Are you alright?” the orange-haired woman said.

“I’ve had worse, miss,” the butler lied, his voice slightly mechanical under the armor, “And yourself?”

The woman laughed. “Well, it’s an adventure for sure!”

The horned beast was still up, somehow, but very wounded. The cyclopean canine creature howled, and was soon joined by what was left of their pack, who scampered up the walls and leapt onto the roof.

“Mr. STARC, please equip the dragon with a Disposable Armor Module.”

“These are Iron Man suits, Jarvis. Don’t fit a dragon.”

Mr. Jarvis replied by raising his palms, stoically staring down the wolves.

STARC sighed. “I’ll make it work.”

An armor module popped out, flying straight towards the orange-haired woman’s dragon. The blueprints of an Iron Dragon suit appeared on Mr. Jarvis’ display.

Spending Focus on Dispensible Armor Module.
Liz now has 4 Protection.

 

[Yuuka Kazami]

"'Scuse us!"

"Coming though!"

The pair of dancers burst through the newfound door on Jarvis's back one after the other, landing on their feet with practiced catlike grace. They were just in time to essentially catch their master as she, too, stepped through; much more slowly, but at the same time hitting the ground harder than her Douji. At least she had stayed on her feet this time, with each of her servants grabbing a shoulder to keep her upright. But, despite her less than stellar entrance, the smirk on her face hadn't gone anywhere.

"These two don't know when to leave anything alone," spoke the god, hands on her hips as she glanced at her pair of Douji.

"Mostly just Mai!" Satono chimed in 'helpfully.'

"Mostly just me!" Though this was clearly meant to be an insult, Mai's emphatic agreement sure didn't make her seem upset about it. If she was just accepting of it or too stupid to realize its intention was unclear.

Before he would have even thought to check, the door on the Iron Butler's back shut with a click.

This left about two seconds for everyone to stand there in confused awe at the trio's sudden appearance before the sound of a Cerclops' pained howl snapped them back into reality.

Indeed, one of the lesser ranked ones had found itself being thoroughly char-broiled by the freshly armored dragon's spitfire breath. Lashing out with its claws in response, it found them mostly glancing off its reptilian target. Liz confidently swooped down at it, baring her own claws.

She realized her mistake as the wicked horns of the pack's alpha tore through the metallic armor on her side, its powerful headbutt sending her careening to the rooftop with a disgruntled hiss. While the actual damage had been severely mitigated by the suit, that only made the new stinging gouges in her scales all the more painful. Two more seemed to leap out of nowhere and onto the literal dog pile the moment the dragon made impact with the roof. It was a blur of claws and teeth gnashing, tearing at any weak point in her armor.

"Ha!"

Spear in hand, Mai vaulted forwards and lunged into the pack, impaling one of the lesser hounds right between the fifth and sixth rib. It whimpered and thrashed hopelessly in response, the dancer only twisting her weapon in deeper- before she noted the pack now turning on her, and proceeded to give the beast a swift kick in the side to dislodge herself. Using this momentum she sprung backwards, balanced on the tips of her toes like she was practicing ballet.

Quickly, but not quickly enough.

She, too, suddenly found herself the plaything of the horned pack alpha, as it sunk its teeth into her right ankle and yanked her off her feet with an indignant squeak. Though she was now being thrashed about like a chew toy, she had the sense, at least, to lash out with her spear at the others as they approached, keeping them just far enough away to not get shredded. But close enough and, first and foremost, distracted enough, to allow Liz to get back onto her feet, shake off her wings, and take off into the sky.

The pack alpha, thankfully, soon found itself blindsided by another blast courtesy of the metal man. And Mai found herself stumbling to her own feet and backwards again, thankfully only to be caught by Satono as she did. Boy was she lucky the both of them had so much practice with Okina herself.

"That was stupid of you." If you gave anything to Satono, it had to be her honesty. "Are you alright, Mai?"

Mai looked down at her leg and winced. Her flesh was torn clear down to the bone, but for some reason she could hardly feel a thing. In fact, that whole leg didn't even seem to want to move at all, either. It must have been some sort of poison, or foul magic. She grit her teeth a bit as she spoke, but still tried to keep up a smile. "I've... I've been better!"

But at least the servant's stupid move had in some ways paid off, as the still-mostly-armored lizard had now returned to her vantage point the sky, keeping herself further aloft now as she fought the two tailed mongrels away from the injured with her firey breath. The one earlier bloodied by Mai's spear made a halfhearted attempt to leap up at her, but was quickly swatted down by Liz's tail. This impact, it seemed, finally leeched the last of its fight from it- causing it to convulse once, twice more, cough, and then go limp in the growing pool of its own acrid blood.

Satisfied that the conflict no longer required her help, Satono let go of Mai, letting her find her balance. "Well then, why are you still here? It'll be a hassle for all of us if you get yourself killed." Despite the situation, her words still carried a playful tone, clearly considering the threat of death little more than a bad joke. So she gave Mai a shove in the direction of their master- glancing over her shoulder a moment out of concern to assure her limping partner made it there- before bounding off towards the firey woman, prepared to assist. The only way she knew how.

That was to say, congratulations Kayleigh, I hope you enjoy the strange teenage girl dancing behind your back with no explanation. And your mind suddenly feeling like you've had caffeine pumped straight into your bloodstream. Free of charge.

Focus used on Backdoor to teleport to the rooftop.

 

[Kayleigh Eudora]

Within mere moments the situation went from bad to absolutely nuts. All she wanted to do was help a woman in trouble, now she got roped into a dangerous rooftop fight against some unknown sort of chimeras? But not alone, no. There was now an entire group of special people by her side, a man in an iron suit, the red-haired woman with her pet dragon and some weird girl and her posse? Going off world may have been a bad choice for Kayleigh—perhaps she should’ve taken her chances facing The Raiders.

‘Second thoughts ain’t going to get me anywhere, seems this fight is inevitable. I am in control...I hope.’

Whatever her new and unexpected allies did to her she started to feel it’s effect; heart was pumping like never before, eyes dilated, flames around her hands and feet shining brighter and on top of that...She felt fucking amazing! A false sense of confidence came along with this physical boost, it rooted inside the woman.

Kayleigh turned her head to Mr.Jarvis, “Alright metal man, try to keep up alright?”

“Usually I’d say, ladies first. However, seeing the situation we are in I would sug-..” Before even being allowed to finish his sentence the fire maiden took off. Leaving a trail of flames in her wake. The Iron butler’s response time was sharp, bursting forward to assist Eudora once more. Liz, even though no one asked her, followed the unlikely duo.

Mai’s excitement got the better of her at the intense moment, “Woah!! look at those guys go.”

The pack or one-eyed dogs braced themselves, howling at the incoming threats. Kayleigh went in straight as the iron suit banked right over the edge of the building. Both hands extended, ready to blast the last remaining enemies yet avoid the pyro-lass moving as gracefully as a ballerina through the pack. The fearsome alpha roared with primal power, sending his, rather decreased, pack after her with vicious intent. Nails of the cycloptic dogs scratched the surface of the roof as they chased the Firebird.

With her newfound strength, Kayleigh dodged the attacks with grace. Bending her body in ways that were never intended for the human body, but somehow managing to pull them off. For a split moment, she was enjoying the moment, was she...having fun?

Jarvis took this opportunity to salvo the horned alpha, firing several beams from a distance over the ledge. The beast shook its head, the iron butler’s attack clearly was affecting it. Liz, as brave as she was, was not about to be outshined. It was a chip she wasn’t ready to have on her shoulder. With great courage her claws cut through one of the alpha’s hind legs, taunting the beast by doing so. The larger cyclops turned its head, foam bubbling between its razor-sharp teeth. Attacks from the flying tin-can aggravated the beast—enraging it to new levels of anger, now all directed at the brave lizard.

The Frizz’s companion took a step back, no matter how brave someone is, when standing eye to eye with genuine evil it's only natural for the body to experience fear. Alpha raised it’s claw to the sky, ready to strike down, “Liz! Watch out” The redhead warned her partner. Without second guessing the emerald green amphibian leaped back, dodging the deadly claw by a hair. With Liz on the run, the horned demon-like dog kicked his right back leg like a bull, ready to follow his prey with a charge.

Kayleigh glanced over, Shit, this will end with someone dead if we’re not careful. With a spin wheel kick, she forced her heel on top of the smaller dog’s head, smashing it to the ground and creating a clear path to the alpha. Without lingering or doubts she burst towards the Alpha, on the other side, Jarvis lined up for an attack from the flank.

Mai—caught up in the heat of battle—encouraged her bold attack, “You go flamey-fire-woman!”

A dual energy beam from it’s right and a scorching punch from the other side left the alpha sandwiched between a world of hurt and hellish burns. The beast cried out, the pain was overtaking rage. Shaking its head, taking a few steps back. The pack leader became visually conflicted, retreat or follow it’s natural instinct to pursue. Kayleigh set up for a follow-up attack, digging her heels in the ground, preparing to shoot herself at him like a torpedo.

“Watch out!” The metallic voice warned her.

*CHOMP*

Teeth like daggers sank into Kayleigh’s calves, one of the smaller hounds got ignored for too long and managed to blindsight the cursed woman.

The woman cried out without her profanity filter, “AAAAWW, That fucking hurts!” The pup clenched its jaws, pressing its teeth deeper into her flesh.

Eudora felt her heartbeat pounding faster and faster, Oh no….not now
Sweat escaped through every available pore of her body Shit shit shit, I’m in control, I’m...in control. I-...

The hound kept pressing down but did not get another scream out of the woman, her eyes rolled to the back of her eyes when suddenly, FLAMES .

With Kayleigh at its center swirling waves of hellish flames burst from the wounded woman. The assailant released his prize instantly. With flesh around its mouth burned it retreated towards the Alpha and his other companion. Frizz, Okina, and the others felt the heat of the flames blowing in their faces, even though they had their distance they could still feel the pressing warmth.

Valerie covered her eyes, shielding them from the inferno ahead. Jarvis hovered, observing what was happening.

Kayleigh stood upright, eyes still white as a sheet, flames engulfing her surroundings. She took a few steps towards the alpha and its pack. All three of the creatures started walking backward, away from the heat and flames. Growling, snarling and barking, the only response the primal creatures appear to have when facing the fire. It was only natural, everything’s first instinct with fire is to run, it was against their nature to stand up and fight.

The fire maiden took a few more steps forward, pressing her foes to the edge. Inching closer to the beast she forced her flames onto them, one by one they succumbed to her pressure, falling over the edge of the building.

Iron Butler finished the job by sending a few well-aimed beams after them, assisting gravity in their descent.

***

Kayleigh opened her eyes, seeing Liz’s face up close and personal. Startled she sat upright, noticing the other strangers surrounding her.

“You alright miss?” Jarvis inquired.

Mai immediately came in between, “That was amazing! You were on fire and stuff, how did you do that?”

Kayleigh shook her head, trying to put the pieces together, “Erh... It’s a long story. The beasts?”

“~All taken care off~.” Valerie sang in a cheerful tone.

Eudora stood up, feeling the sting in her calf, but not trying to give off a sign of weakness. She looked at the gathered party of strangers, “Who are you guys?”

 

[Dr. McNinja]

Mr. Jarvis nodded. The helmet of the suit had receded into the suit's neckline, revealing his shiny, balding head. Despite the horseshoe of hair on his head, Mr. Jarvis still had sharp cheekbones and excellent skin, except for two small bags under his eyes. Despite the fact that his face was completely stoic and expressionless, the other women were filled with a sense of comforting.

"Well, I suppose if that's all quite finished, " Mr. Jarvis said to the pyrokinetic lady, "Good afternoon, miss. I am Edwin Jarvis, butler to the Starks and an operative of the Avengers. I've already met Ms. Frizzle, and the ever-charming Liz."

"Alright, buddy, move on."

"As well as Her Ladyship and Youkai Sage, Okina Matara and her two accomplices, Ms. Mai Teireida and Satono Nishida."

"He speaks so proper!" Mai whisper-chuckled to Satono, who interrupted her amusement with a glare. Meanwhile, Okina nodded, her body otherwise unnervingly still. She and her two companions were strange sights, seeming to be from a Japan long past. One would have assumed Mr. Jarvis would be alarmed. But most people had not met the people Edwin had met.

And this trend seemed to continue. During the brief time that the pyrokinetic woman was recovering consciousness, Mr. Jarvis had the opportunity to talk with the others. Ms. Frizzle was nominally a teacher, presumably of younger children. However, she had earlier exhibited feats of electrokinesis. And one couldn't forget the fact that she was accompanied by an iguana that was capable of transforming into a dragon.

Not that Mr. Jarvis had never seen a dragon, obviously. There were plenty of those to be had these days. In fact, the truly otherworldly figures were the trio to the side. Mai and Satono seemed to be subservient in some way to Okina, but they were prominently wearing strange outfits Mr. Jarvis hadn’t seen modern people wear: old-fashioned dresses with modern skirt lengths.

The butler turned to the pyrokinetic woman and gave a sharp and polite smile, his kind face strangely attached to the neck of the battle-scarred machine of war.

"But I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Miss...?" Edwin said, tipping his head slightly.

The black-haired woman blinked rapidly for a moment, then looked around at the complete strangers.

"Uh..."

Her eyes darted back and forth, moving from face to face. Finally, the woman gulped and shrugged.

"Just a passerby," she finally decided.

The butler's face twitched slightly. It was a very controlled movement, exactly enough to communicate his disapproval but not enough for his displeasure to continue to be an issue.

"Of course," Mr. Jarvis said, "Quite."

"Got something to show you," STARC chirped from beneath the armor's neckline.

"Who the hell's that?" the pyrokinetic woman snapped.

Mr. Jarvis made a subtle gesture with his fingers, and his helmet snapped upwards, then extended and wrapped around his face.

"Nothing to worry about, miss," the butler said, "Yes, Mr. STARC?"

"Turns out Human She-Torch doesn't match anything we've seen before," STARC reported, "I mean, that's definitely fire. Don't touch that. But it's something occult."

Mr. Jarvis didn't reply. Ms. Frizzle approached him.

"What is it, Mr. Jarvis?" she chirped.

"Nothing, Ms. Frizzle. How do you mean, Mr. STARC?"

"Who's Stark?" the anonymous lady snapped, as confused as ever.

"I mean it's magic, Jarvis," STARC sighed, "You know I don't know anything about that. We'd have to talk to Stephen or something."

"Which does raise the question," Mr. Jarvis said, "Is this the same universe as our own?”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” STARC replied, “I’ll keep you posted- wait, you getting this, Jarvis?”

“Seems highly unlikely, if I may be frank, sir?”

A window expanded, taking over a corner of Edwin’s vision. An unknown hooded figure stood on another rooftop, about three buildings down. STARC highlighted the figure.

“He’s watching you,” the AI said.

The figure suddenly took off, disappearing into the rooftop access doorway. His foot splashed slightly on a puddle of grimy water. Mr. Jarvis scowled. Who was he?”

“Why is he talking to himself?” Mai asked the group.

“Well, Mai,” Ms. Frizzle said, her voice full of patience, “He’s not talking to himself! He’s talking to an Artificial Intelligence system, or AI. It seems to me that Mr. Jarvis’ AI helps him run his mechanized suit!”

Mr. Jarvis raised both eyebrows. STARC cleared his throat quietly.

“Uh... Jarvis?” STARC said in a low voice, “How does crazy lizard lady know I’m in here?”

“I’m not quite sure myself, sir.”

“As I always say,” Ms. Frizzle grinned, “There’s nothing artificial about intelligence if you work for it!”

“What does that even mean?” Mai muttered.

Her mistress lifted her head thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would be more prudent for us to discuss what just transpired.”

Mr. Jarvis lifted the mask from his head again. The helmet retracted into the armor.

“I agree, miss,” Mr. Jarvis said, “If I might be so bold, it seems to me that we are all strangers to this unique environment. Except for this young lady.”

The girl shrugged. “I’ve never been to Ashport before.”

The others stared at her for a moment. It took only a moment for her to realize what had happened.

“Oh,” she said, “You mean the Crossroads.”

“The Crossroads?” Okina asked.

“Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” Ms. Frizzle said to Mr. Jarvis.

“If you would kindly explain?” Mr. Jarvis asked the girl.

The anonymous pyrokinetic girl swallowed hard before speaking.

 

[Optix]

The Frizz and her new companions listen with rapt attention as Kayleigh explains the basics of the Crossroads solar system. Several times during the conversation Jarvis or Miss Frizzle interrupt to ask questions of a highly technical or nonsensical nature, but Kayleigh presses resolutely onward in her explanation. She speaks of the planets, what she knows of them. She speaks of Erde Nona, and the Douji’s faces eyes to sparkle. And she speaks of the Arbiters.

“No one knows why They do what They do, but They definitely do it,” Kayleigh says, her eyes very serious.

Miss Frizzle nods solemnly, but Jarvis just gives a tight-lipped smile.

“That all sounds rather...unsettling,” says Mr. Jarvis thoughtfully. “Do you happen to know which direction Earth is, by chance?”

Kayleigh shrugs sadly. “I don’t think...most people that come here, they don’t ever get back home.”

“Do we even come from the same Earth?” asks Okina quietly. “It...does not seem likely.”

“I think we come from very different, yet very similar worlds,” Miss Frizzle says. Her iguana is curled up on her shoulder, sleeping quietly. The Frizz is looking skyward, watching the impossible airships floating past. “I think I can get us each home.”

Mr. Jarvis coughs as politely as he does everything. “Did you say you were a school teacher?”

“What do you need to get us home?” Okina implores.

The Frizz points at Mr. Javis. “That, to start with.”

Mr. Jarvis seems confused for a moment, then realizes she is pointing at his chest. “Ah, the arc reactor. No.”

There is nothing more, just ‘no’, spoken in a firm yet disappointing voice.

Miss Frizzle does not loose her temper, but strands of her hair do rise up as though affected by static electricity.

“I need to get my Bus off-planet, they don’t have what I need here to go interdimensional,” she explains. “I need a blasterizer; an arc reactor,” she corrects herself.

“It is not for sale, I am very sorry,” says Jarvis with finality. “However, I came across this one rather easily, perhaps there are more-”

“Heads up,” quips STARC.

Jarvis and the Frizz crane their necks up, and gasp.

Two davinchian flying machines are rocketing above them. They are small, spindly brass contractions, seating only one rider and designed like a bicycle. They have sleek hang-glider style wings. Where the back wheel would be instead is a rapidly spinning gyroscope glowing with a bright blue light in their center.

“Blasterizers!” says the Frizz excitedly. Jarvis seems less amused.

“Yes, they seem to be on every corner, don’t they?” the Iron Butler says dryly.

Suddenly the machines bank right, and then go down in a sudden dive, the drivers shouldering each other as on the way down.

“They’re racing!” Miss Frizzle exclaims as she rushes to the edge of the roof. She looks back and catches Jarvis’ eye. “Think they play for pinks?”

“Hmm,” said the Iron Butler, unsure if he should disapprove of the gambling. “They may not be averse to the idea.”

“Look, whatever you guys do, you better do it fast,” interrupts Kayleigh. “I don’t know why those things came after you, but someone not be too happy about what we did to them. They might come looking for us again.”

Mr. Jarvis coughs again, somehow even more politely. “Then perhaps we should find them first; I do have some experience with bringing justice to blights upon society. Then we can repair your…”

“Magic school bus,” the Frizz says unflinchingly.

“...your magic school bus, yes,” Jarvis continues. “We can repair at leisure, once we are finished. I shall even help you acquire a new, er, blasterizer.”

Okina nods, and her strange servants nod in unison. “This quest is noble,” she declares, her voice dreamy. Her Douji nod enthusiastically.

“Is this acceptable to you, Miss Frizzle?” the Iron Butler asks.

The Frizz grins somewhat disturbingly. “Let’s get messy.”

***

So it was that the unlikely coterie find themselves on the streets of Tinkerdrift, asking questions about cerclops’, and sticking their noses where their noses surely do not belong. Naturally, it takes very little time before the group is hopelessly lost.

692 words

 

[Yuuka Kazami]

There were likely millions of very similar earths, each of which differentiated itself from the others due to a single flip of a coin, a single decision made differently in the spur of the moment, or a single butterfly killed.

Okina had heard this all before- though even the one she’d heard it from had laughed heartily after she’d said it, pondering if it truly counted as physics, or if it was simply a matter of philosophy. Despite the logic, who was to say if any of it was true without any way to prove it? Or was the fate of the earth written in stone from the beginning, and any attempts to alter its course would only prove to bring about that already decided fate? Her only response was a wry smile.

So too had she said that in a world sufficiently divorced, advanced or secluded, from reality, physics and philosophy were all one and the same anyway without a means for their people to prove anything more than they already had. To that end, why bother thinking too hard about it when an answer may never come?

It was this ancient conversation that she had stuck in her head as the Douji helped her along the streets of Ashport, doing their best to keep their master upright and moving while also not being quite so obvious about it. (Her ego was certainly too big for her to let herself come across as needing their help, despite it being their literal purpose for existence.) The dancers walked in perfect lock step unison, uncanny to both their allies and, clearly, the passers by; none of whom were sure how to address her questions with regards to the hounds anyway.

Hence why it seemed she and her newfound 'associates' were ducking down darker and darker alleys by the minute, metaphorically chasing the shadows of the figure from beforehand. At least a literal chase would have kept Satono and Mai engaged.

It felt as though they had asked dozens of shady folks before they came across the single equally as shady man that could help them.

The man- whom she would have described as tall, dark, and not especially handsome- shifted a bit when asked if he had even heard of "such foul beasts." This was more of an answer than Okina had been getting for hours,

"-Look, Lady, I'll tell ya what, I may not be able to help you folks out free of charge. Definitely not right in the open. But, there may be something in there-" the man pointed a calloused finger at a great building of iron and glass, architecture more jagged and blocky than anything nearby, and yet somehow in an artistic way- "that'll make it worth my time."

-

And that was the reason Okina was sitting in a chair near the entrance to the store, looking invested in some holographic reading device as she watched the security guards from the corner of her eye.

It was called the "Clockwork Engine Collective", whatever that was supposed to mean. Clear as day it was somewhere they designed prototypes of their new items and displayed them for public viewing and testing. Full of things that perhaps did not work correctly, or perhaps would never see the light of day again. Certainly nothing that was on the main markets.

She supposed it was right for the back-alleys of 'Tinkerdrift' to be full of amoral tinkers stealing the inventions of others, both figuratively and literally.

As the guard leaned back against one of the rows of shelves, she herself leaned back and yawned- putting a hand through the door behind her chair, and returning with an armful of loose wires, incomprehensible metal, circuitry and tiny gears, courtesy of the shelf.

-

"Shouldn't a god be above petty theft?" Kayleigh was the first to speak up upon her return, though thankfully even she didn't seem completely judgmental.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," hummed the blonde woman, glancing through her handful of mechanical junk. She didn't know what the hell most of it was, but it was from 'in there' and it was something, so perhaps she would turn out lucky. "Also, I don't really care."

"And it's technically grand larceny," piped in Satono 'helpfully' once more, "given how much we got."

"So, what is that stuff?" Asked Mai, glancing at her master- who then glanced to The Frizz expectantly, causing the two servants to turn to her as well.

"And more importantly," Okina added quickly and with a smile, "is any of it worth keeping instead?"

Though, even as she asked this, she was already pocketing some small device with a button on it, considering it valuable enough if it was a whole piece.

792 words.

Used Focus on Backdoor again to just grab some things, and pocketed the Zapshield.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

"...thermal scans were inconclusive, Jarvis."

The butler lifted his hand, attempting to rest his fingers on the bridge of his nose. Finding that the helmet was in the way, Mr. Jarvis rested them on the mask instead.

"And you're sure you had a perfect recording of the sighting?"

"What do you take me for?" STARC sighed defensively.

"Well, perhaps we haven't recorded electromagne-"

"Mr. Jarvis?"

The butler twitched his head back, crinkling his nose as he did. Recognizing the signal, the Iron Butler's helmet retreated along Mr. Jarvis' hairline, clicking and receding into the armor's collar. Mr. Jarvis nodded.

"Yes, Ms. Matara?"

"I asked if any of this worth was keeping," the blond goddess said.

Mr. Jarvis had noticed for the first time that the deity, in her brief disappearance, had suddenly conjured a veritable mound of intricate gadgets. Mr. Jarvis raised an eyebrow.

"If you'd excuse my forwardness, ma'am, I would wonder how legitimate these acquisitions are."

"Perfectly illegitimately," Okina shrugged, "I don't know much about technology, much less about... 'school buses'. Valerie mentioned a sub-ob-li-ble paladin blaster-thing?"

Ms. Frizzle cleared her throat. "A sub-optimal palladium blasterizer! It'll at least provide enough power for me to reset the microverse population battery, and then I could wait a few weeks or something..."

"A microverse population battery?" STARC said through a speaker, pulling up rudimentary holographic blueprints, "I... I'd theorized about this before – well, not me, Tony did – but the sheer amount of luck you'd need to pull it off – and you're basically committing a whole race to unwitting slavery..."

"Slavery?" Mr. Jarvis said, worried.

"Theoretical model, Jarvis, I wasn't gonna do it," STARC sighed, "Anyway, it'd probably be easier to make a microverse astrocombustion battery. More reliable, too."

"Easier?" Ms. Frizzle laughed, "Well, I suppose you're right! That is, if you've figured out how to create a system-transient energy flow, or an efficient, humanitarian way of sterilizing your pocket universe."

STARC paused. "Dumbledore did laugh at me, right?"

"I believe she did, sir."

"That's weird," STARC noted, "Didn't feel derogatory. Anyways, couldn't you just have a hypomolecular electromagnetic generator fueling the ambient energy transmissions?"

"Then we'd need a blasterizer powering the electromagnetic generator!" Ms. Frizzle mused, tapping her chin.

"Yeah, initially," STARC said, "But then you just use the massive power from the astrocombustion battery fueling the generator."

"Do you have any idea what they're talking about?" Kayleigh whispered to Okina.

"Not a clue," Okina replied, her eyes drooping with boredom.

"A self-sustaining energy system!" Ms. Frizzle gasped, clapping her hands in excitement, "And once the battery generates enough stars, then that should be enough to fuel the bus!"

"Yeah," STARC replied, "In theory. We just need a few relativistic particle accelerators small enough to fit in the engine of a school bus."

"Like this one?" Mai said, lifting a tiny box from the pile of stolen gadgets.

Ms. Frizzle blinked a few times in surprise. STARC emitted a tiny, extended beep.

"But..." STARC stammered, "But those... haven't been invented yet."

"It was on this planet, evidently!" Ms. Frizzle said, grinning wide, "Good find, Mai! How did you know?"

Mai pointed at the device's label, which read, "Relativistic Particle Accelerator, sized for use in engine of buses".

"That's..." STARC hesitated, "convenient."

"Can we please hurry up and talk about the Cerclopses?" Kayleigh sighed in exasperation, "They usually don't make it this far into town, and they certainly don't attack people in broad daylight. I think."

"I agree," Mr. Jarvis said, "but it seems that Ms. Matara has already acquired a large number of devices in a manner which draws attention towards us. It is best to deal with the issue at hand first before proceeding with any other tasks-"

"Jarvis, a word?" STARC interrupted.

The helmet reformed around Mr. Jarvis' head. A radar showed a humanoid shape standing in the distance. The Iron Butler turned to face the figure. Mr. Jarvis squinted.

It was the cloaked figure from earlier, on the rooftop. However, this time, a pair of tendrils were sliding beneath the hood, retreating into the back of the cloak. The figure spun in place, disappearing around a corner.

The Iron Butler launched forward, thrusters blasting to keep up. He banked sharply, turning the same corner the figure had.

The figure was gone.

The Iron Butler's thrusters roared as he hovered in place, searching for any sign of the figure. STARC analyzed the incoming visual data.

"Not even a thermal footprint," STARC reported.

"Of course," Mr. Jarvis muttered, "I was hoping this day would become even more unsettling."

The others jogged after him, Ms. Tereida lugging the stolen merchandise and Ms. Nishida carrying Okina. Mr. Jarvis landed again.

"Mr. STARC, would you mind terribly if you continued to scan for that man?"

"You'll have less power available while I do, but yeah."

"Thank you, sir."

"What was that all about?" Okina asked.

"I'm afraid I'm not quite sure," Mr. Jarvis said grimly, "But I believe we are being followed."

801 words.

 

[Optix]

The Frizz is coughing behind a cloud of steam, and maybe something else.

“Right you are, Mr. Jarvis,” Miss Frizzle says between coughs. “But we are interesting, and friendly. And nosy. Why shouldn’t somebody be following us?”

Khenzi clears her throat. “Yeah, about that ‘us’ thing…”

“What exactly are you smoking?” asks Starc.

“Nothing,” says The Frizz truthfully; she is using a laser to vaporize kalaxian crystals, so not technically smoking. “But I think it made Khenzi disappear.”

Mr. Jarvis and Starc quickly check for her, but the pyromancer is gone. Mr. Jarvis sighs. “Well, that is inconvenient.”

“Down two redheads,” Okina muses. “Maybe it’s an omen.”

“I don’t believe in- wait, did you say two?” Mr. Jarvis asked. In a panicked second his mask it up and he is floating above the crowd, scanning futilely, before dropping back down to ‘earth’.

“She’s gone,” the Iron Butler says, his voice cracking a little. “I doubt that bus would, regardless. I’ll get us back to earth together...”

“I can find her,” Okina says, a scowl on her face.

“Thank God,” Mr. Jarvis says. “But how?”

The God looks indignant. “She took Mai.”

“Yeesh,” says Starc, as Jarvis sighs. “You do have a way with women, don’t you?”

***

A god, a slave, and an Iron Butler all walk into a pub; specifically, The Parallel Axel Pub.

The Parallel Axel Pub is one of the seediest, water-down dive bars in Tinkerdrift. The crowd is mostly human, though gnomes and dwarves are a common sight, and stranger humanoids besides. It’s dark, damp, it smells like urine, but despite it’s dreary trappings is roaring with life and noise.

At the entrance is a lively game of four finger fillet between an elven man and a human knight. They might once have played five finger fillet, but they are each short a finger.

At the next table a group of gnomes plays cards, smoke cigars, and drink apple cider. They all have scowls of concentration, except for a leprechaun who can’t stop telling flat jokes.

And in the back, in a raucous table surrounded by hooting men and gnomes, is the Frizz. She is seated across from a grizzled looking dwarf with a hard expression on his face.

And she is holding a gun.

The snub nosed revolver waves freely in the air for a moment while the schoolteacher’s frizzy red hair ducks down, and a loud sniffing sound is heard.

Immediately The Frizz puts the gun to her temple, and pulls the trigger.

A click is heard.

“Wahoo!” says the Frizz, taking a shot of whiskey.

The table erupts in cheers. Money changes hands. Miss Frizzle slides the gun across the table to the dwarf.

“I’m starting to doubt her magic interstellar school bus now,” Starc quips helpfully.

A single voice can be heard over the clamor.

“Bets are open, fifteen is the split, no over-unders!” says a green-haired woman in a matching dress. “Come on, get your bets in!”

“Mai!” calls Okina in a shocked voice.

The Doujin’s eyes widen at her master’s apparent displeasure, and she seems to appear at her side instantly.

“Hello master!” the douji says, her eyes on the floor.

Mr. Jarvis decides they can work things out between themselves.

“I suppose you’re having fun, then?” Mr jarvis inquires politely from behind Miss Frizzle’s shoulder. “Because I find my hopes for getting off this planet alive dwindling every second.”

The Frizz laughs; she does that a lot. “I’m just gathering clues. Every good mystery starts with a clue! Like how I met Gorteinheim here. Gort, tell the iron butler about the hound fights.”

“I’m Gort,” says the dwarf across from Miss Frizzle. His hollow eyes are fixed the revolver in his palm. “My husband left me today. Yeah, the Axel ain’t the only place to find some action. There’s a bloke that trains cerclops hounds to fight.”

“Where?” says Jarvis, perhaps too hastily. “As I too am a purveyor of bloodsports and animal cruelty,” he adds convincingly.

“One sec,” the dwarf says, and then he puts the gun to his head.

Click.

The table erupts in cheers. The Frizz is banging on the table. Gort puts the gun down and exhales deeply, staring at the ceiling.

The Iron Butler nearly, but doesn’t quite, lose his composure. He clears his throat politely.

“Where did you say the fights were again?”

***

730 words

 

[Yuuka Kazami]

As Mai returned to her side, Okina wrapped her free arm around her green-haired servant's shoulders; half affectionately, and half as a restraint. All, of course, as ploy to regain her as a second human shaped crutch. This was why she didn't trust the kids with money and no directions. Without the stipulation of being asked not to leave Ushirodo-no-Kuni, the two would have to be on shorter metaphorical leashes. They could be thankful Okina was not yet cruel slash strict enough to put them on literal ones.

She cleared her throat, the two slaves taking a step forward towards the table with her.

"He's right. If we have dirty money," the god glanced to the array of different coins that Mai was having some difficulty counting as she slipped them into her pockets, "there's no sense in losing any cleaning it until we get everything we can out of it as is. If the fighting's profitable, we'll give it a go."

The two teens nodded along with the words in perfect unison, like carefully controlled marionettes. Did they know it was a lie, or were they conscious of the fact they were doing it at all? Impossible to tell. But the likely answer was that even if they did know, they likely didn't have the mental faculties to care.

Despite the oddity of this scene, Gort shifted slightly in his seat, leaning back further and further into his chair- only to get comfortable as he mumbled barely above a whisper to the Iron Butler. "'s on the other side of town- where you can talk to 'em, at least, never bothered getting much further in myself. Run down old place just called Sulfr, front's a restaurant." The dwarf paused a moment to take a sip of ale- which rapidly turned into downing half of his mug in one breath. "Assumin' I remember, it's an order of fried viperatl over wild grains- add on mushrooms, extra spicy. That'll get you who you need."

"Ordering the secret dish to talk to the big man," commented STARC in Jarvis's ear, "like it's some kind of cheap mob drama. Don't know if we can trust that."

It was suspicious, and Jarvis knew it- but it would best be discussed somewhere more private and less dangerous than an establishment monetizing assisted suicide. With a curt nod, the butler turned to their remaining redhead. "Right. Then may I suggest quitting while you're ahead? We have what we came for, so it would be prudent that we make good on our plans."

Valerie snorted a bit, but her smile remained on her face as she pushed the gun into the exact middle of the table. "Well, I suppose you're right! I found clues and fun." With this finished, she stood up, though she turned back to the dwarf still sitting where he was. "Well Gort, it's been fun, but I wouldn't want to keep my companions here waiting on their next wager! Thanks for the info."

The dwarf nodded, glancing at the revolver once more, and then back at his beverage- before downing the other half of the ale in another great gulp.

"Planning on any more rounds?" Inquired a member of the now mostly dispersed crowd.

"...Nah. Not much point without any competition- watchin' a sad fuck blow his brains out is just depressing minus the tension," Gortenheim replied, spinning the mug by the handle, "someone just get me a stronger drink."

Not waiting around long enough to watch the depressed man drink himself into a blissful coma, Okina led the group out of the pub- agreeing it was best to get out of there before she was bored enough to start drinking herself.

"Now," she stated once she had been helped mostly out of earshot of the elf and human at the entrance, "we just need a plan. And a better map, so we don't lose anyone else." Okina smirked at her own half-assed attempt at a joke.

666 words.

I'm mature.

 

[Dr. McNinja]

"My condolences for your present situation, sir," Mr. Jarvis said to Gortenheim as his companions left, "Best of luck on your future endeavors."

Gortenheim grunted something undoubtedly dreary, then returned to his drink. The Iron Butler's boots clunked as Mr. Jarvis exited.

"Ms. Frizzle," Mr. Jarvis sighed, "As... delighted as I am at your candor and enthusiasm, it would be considerably more prudent to at least alert us of any events you may partake in."

"Where's your experimental spirit, Mr. Jarvis?" Ms. Frizzle chortled, shivering slightly as her 'kalaxian crystals' already began to wear off, "And anyway, we've learned something, haven't we?"

"Yeah," Okina said, "Something about a restaurant? We need to order something specific?"

"Fried viperatl over wild grains, add on mushrooms, extra spicy," STARC sighed, "This is so stupid."

Satono nodded, crossing her arms. "At the very least, now we have an actual lead on the... cerclops things."

"Indeed," Mr. Jarvis replied, "We should capitalize on our intel and make our way there immediately. And Ms. Frizzle, please do refrain from consuming any further kalaxian crystals. We'll need you at your best."

Ms. Frizzle sighed as she inhaled the smoke, the smoldering remains of a pink crystalline orb in her palm. The red-haired woman grinned dizzily.

"Of course, Mr. Jarvis!" she slurred, her legs starting to slightly step right and left. She continued this strange dance as she chuckled.

Mr. Jarvis opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth again.

"Perhaps we should let her rest a bit," the butler said, "Meanwhile, Mr. STARC has been showing me some potential weapon designs."

"I'm particularly excited about the Jericho Missile," STARC interjected.

"The what missile?"

***

Okina smiled. She was being held by her two servants at a counter that someone had thoughtlessly discarded into the dank alley, gesturing at a line of technological devices. Mr. Jarvis crouched on a nearby rooftop, watching the interaction through STARC. Liz scampered somewhere else on the rooftop.

"Would you be interested?"

Opposite the dumped counter stood the strange double-tentacled woman from whom Mr. Jarvis had bought the arc reactor. Ms. Frizzle had called her a Twi'lek, an alien species. Of course, she had also called the arc reactor a blasterizer, and she was currently recovering from a high, so these things needed to be taken with some grains of salt.

"Interested, maybe," said the Twi'lek in a thick accent, "Where get?"

"Oh, here and there, you know."

"Uh huh," the Twi'lek said, examining a square device with her trained eye and equally trained unimpressed expression, "I don't know, lady, you stole?"

"Of course not," Okina lied, "I didn't realize it mattered."

"Stole items half price," the Twi'lek sighed.

"They're not stolen," Okina insisted.

In response, the Twi'lek turned the square device around and pointed at the sticker price tag that was still on the device. The goddess across her shrugged. She picked up one of the Twi'lek's products and showed the exact same sticker price tag on the item.

The Twi'lek angrily opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself. Calmly, she said, "Stole items half prices. That customers get half price. You get half price."

Okina shrugged. "Well, alright. Doesn't matter. We want to do an exchange."

"Oh!" the Twi'lek says, "I can give more for trade."

"Okay," Okina said, pausing before saying, "I don't know why I'M the one asking about this, but... I need a- a miniaturized air compressor?"

"How miniaturized?"

"Uh, he said 5 meters into 0.025 millimeters," Okina replied.

The Twi'lek raised one eyebrow. "That's a four-twenty microscopic air compressor."

Okina paused, then shrugged.

"Fine," the Twi'lek said, pulling a small cylinder from her pocket, "1500 coins and four-twenty air compressor. Deal?"

Okina nodded to Satono, who held out her hand to shake the Twi'lek's.

"Deal."

***

Mr. Jarvis watched as the Iron Butler suit autonomously worked a few feet away. Finally, the armor clicked the missile shut. A wave of red light washed over it from the armor's eyes. The armor then opened a compartment on the right wrist and slid the rocket inside. The Iron Butler suit nodded, then unlatched for Mr. Jarvis to enter.

"Jericho Missile online," STARC reported.

Edwin Jarvis entered the suit. The suit's interface chirped as the holographic data flew around his visor.

"Let's rejoin the others," Mr. Jarvis said, "I feel an odd urge for fried viperatl."

730 words

 

[Yuuka Kazami]

The amount of shady eateries in this city was comparable to the number of stars in the known universe.

Not that it was particularly appetizing to most of that universe to go and eat at one with a name eerily close to the scent of rotten eggs. Merely the thought seemed to bring bile into Okina's throat- and she didn't need any acid reflux before she even ate the damn food there.

Internally, she scoffed at her own deflated sense of adventure. Simultaneously, she told a disappointed Mai she had best leave the spear outside. (Though she, of course, had kept her purloined paraphernalia on her person.)

So a disabled goddess, two brainwashed teens, and a metal butler walk into a bar.

While the outside of the restaurant was completely nondescript, to the point of being damn near impossible to find among the concrete and clockwork bleakness, the innards were best described as... Eccentric. The quartet was rapidly greeted on entry by a mock-bearskin rug, made out of the pelt of yet another unusual canid, not one of the prior Cerclops, but something of similar size. Indeed, the cogs in the back of Okina's brain turned along with those of the ground, that seemed like it could be the kind of thing you would see dogfighting with one of them.

Her attention was quickly wrenched from this detail, however, as a particularly aggressive waitress- a pointy-eared woman Okina would have placed around 20, with one side of her head shaved and the rest of her hair dyed a striking neon blue- approached the ragtag group. "Table for how many?" came her inquiry, though its intonation made it sound more like an interrogation.

Thankfully, before Okina made a snarky comment about the woman's ability to count, Jarvis had calmly informed her that they numbered "Four, ma'am."

Her inspection continued, however, as the douji helped her to their booth. The place was mostly empty, as one would expect of a front. Though there were a few customers here and there, notably one pair of halflings speaking in hushed and hurried tones of a business deal over a great number of communal dishes in the center of their table. It appeared they had ordered a couple party platters. The walls were plastered with pale blue wallpaper, peeling in the corners, and the tables had obvious unfixed marks and gouges. Besides the rug, and a decorative spear mounted on one of the walls, it was suitably generic.

With the waitress scurrying off to deal with the other customers, they sat in utter silence. Having both douji sat across the booth from her and the butler- Satono and Mai taking turns blankly staring at the laminated menu like they’d never learned how to read, the bunch looked like a an even fuller quirky little family. Y’know. Just a couple of parents and their rambunctious twins out for a good ol' family friendly night of spurious meals, dogfighting and bloodsports.

If Okina could feel them in the first place, she had the strangest inkling in the back of her mind that her legs would have been asleep by the time the waitress returned to their table. Which was impressive, given there were maybe four other patron in the whole restaurant max. Though her question was partially answered by the woman returning smelling intensely of tobacco, clearly having gone out on a smoke break.

"Alright, what are you ordering?" She flipped open a little notebook as she asked.

Jarvis cleared his throat. "Yes, well. I suppose I'll have the fried vip-"

He was cut off by the woman heaving a great sigh. As if she'd heard this more times than she truly cared to, and just wanted to get it over with. "Right, whatever, I forgot we have a reservation for that table, just go to the back already." She motioned for a closed glass door near the back of the restaurant, labelled "Smoking Section." And before the Douji could even help Okina up, she was already sitting down on one of the stools at the bar, looking terrifically bored. Clearly, she wasn't going to be helping them once they got back there.

In that back room sat a blonde man in his thirties, wearing a blue blazer and typing away at the clockwork equivalent of a laptop, which seemed to be akin to a typewriter with an analog display on it. He turned as he heard the door open, closing the lid on his device and putting a winning smile on his face.

"Hello, folks. What can I do for you?"

 

[Summer]

“Table for how many?” With a voice as dead as her eyes, the neon-haired waitress of this seedy “Sulfr” restaurant spoke her well-practiced line. No passion, no formality, no life. Jo’on was almost insulted. Or, well, “almost” was putting it lightly. Jo’on was pissed. Had this been any other restaurant, she would have given this brat the reaming of a lifetime for taking this tone with her. She was not paying an exorbitant amount of money for overpriced food to not be treated like a god.

“Two.” The pestilence god growled through gritted teeth, clenching her fists as she tried to reign in her indignation. Had it been any other restaurant, she wouldn’t have held back. But this wasn’t any other restaurant. This was a shitty diner in a shitty part of some shitty town that she was only giving the pleasure of her business because some shitty old woman dropped her here without even the shittiest fucking clue of where the fuck she was. And on top of that, she had a shitty fucking hangover.

So it wasn’t exactly like she had a choice.

As expected, if their wonderful server noticed the simmering rage in Jo’on’s voice, she gave no indication. Nope. She just said “This way” in the tone of a retail worker who wasn’t being paid enough to give a fuck and started off towards one of the far corners of the restaurant, without even bothering to see if they’d been following.

The disastrous duo, of course, had been. Sure, Jo’on could have made a ruckus about how dare she treat her like that and stormed off to a different one, but what was the point? Sure, there might’ve been twenty other shitty eateries along just this street alone, but all of them were going to smell just as overpoweringly as grease as this one, and odds are their waitstaff weren’t any less rude. So she simply swallowed it and grumpily plopped herself down in the booth she’d been led to, squinting for a moment at the shitty menu she’d been given while, in the seat across from her, her sister took a much deeper glance.

“Yeah just give me the most expensive thing ya got.” Jo’on hadn’t taken a look past the laminated cover of the menu, rife with spelling errors, when she made her decision, already handing the grease-stained pamphlet back to their server. Their pointy-eared waitress heaved a deep, disgruntled sigh, rolling her eyes as she fished her notepad from her apron and started scribbling that down.

“If that’s how you usually order, you’re in the wrong place miss.” The first signs of life finally seeped into the dead-eyed woman, in the form of a done-with-your-attitude statement. Which was quite something given that Jo’on had barely started yet.

“Well at least I live the kind of life where this can be considered the ‘wrong place,’” Jo’on retorted, propping her elbows up on the table and rubbing her head into her hands in a vain attempt to alleviate the pounding in her temples.

“And for you?” Sighing again, she turned towards Shion, who’d set her begging bowl on the table and was nibbling excitedly on obviously-rotten grapes out of it. The poverty god paid no mind to the disgusted look their waitress gave her, too busy looking through the menu, wide-eyed, like a kid in a candy store.

“Can I have...?” Shion started, her blue flame-aura dancing with much more vigor than it had in a while.

“You’re paying for yours,” Jo’on said, peeking one of her eyes out from her palms, cutting off her sister before she’d made a decision.

“Oh... right.” The blue-haired god’s voice and face both fell, and silently she closed the menu. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” the waitress collected their menus, “that’ll be out... whenever.”

And then she just turned and left. There, the two sisters sat in silence for a couple of moments, Jo’on with her head in her hands and Shion nibbling half-heartedly on expired grapes, trying to make them last as long as possible. “Ah wait.” Suddenly Jo’on was sitting upright again, turning towards the retreating form of their server. She opened her mouth to call something out, but stopped, before slumping back into her hands. “Nevermind, I ain’t gonna trust the water here.” To this, Shion offered no response.

Jo’on turned her head up, sighing, but still resting her on her hands. “Whaddya think?” She asked in a tired voice, brown eyes focused wholly on her sister.

“These are good grapes...” Shion responded blankly, head down, eyes on the table.

“I meant abou-”

“I like it here, but I don’t know where ‘here’ is. Sorry.”

“Fuck...” The pestilence god heaved a deep breath, sliding her round sunglasses off the top of her head and taking a look at them. “Was the sign “Sulfr” in English, do you remember? Did Yukari throw us to America?” Of course, the temples and frames were bent and one of the lenses was completely shattered. “Ugh, these were Cartier too...” With that disappointed sigh, she just... tossed ‘em to the side of the table.

“This diner’s called Sulfur?” The poverty god asked lazily, already moving to scoop up the discarded glasses.

“Yeah, it’s almost like they don’t want people to eat here or somethin.” The words Jo’on left unsaid were ‘it’s probably a front.’ She quickly glanced at her fingers, studying the gems on each ring. One was missing its emerald. Wonderful. Rolling her eyes tiredly, she slipped off that ring and tossed it to where her sunglasses had been as well. Had they not been now perched on Shion’s face. Quick as a flash, she scooped that jewelry up as well.

Jo’on slipped another gem-studded ring out of her pocket and onto that finger with practiced ease, as though this was something she did frequently. Well, they could probably ask the waitress next time she came around in... eight or so years, she guessed.