TDM 008

[etrayamods]

content warnings for this TDM include: gambling references, mild horror themes and suggestive content ⏵ arrival⏴ Arrival does not happen as Aurora usually plans for it. Newcomers generally find themselves waking up within the hospital, are given a brief overview of their situation, and sent on their way. Now? They wake up immersed in a game within The Gold Saucer. But it doesn't quite feel like a game: whether it's snowy mountains, riding a chocobo as you listened to the wind quickly pass by your ears, or in the middle of a battle with a beast, it feels utterly real. It's only after the game concludes - either by winning or losing - that you find yourself back in the main game area. A bot, dressed as personnel in this lavish playground, approaches each arrival with an earpiece allowing them to communicate with those in their same situation. It also serves to inform them of their goal: collect enough gold saucer points (or GP) by playing the games to acquire a card fashioned to their own likeness from the game counter. Then, they must trade it for someone else's. Seems simple enough, right? Hopefully the cards aren't too expensive... ⏵ the gold saucer ⏴ The Gold Saucer is an ode to the very idea of fun. It’s huge, labyrinthine, colorful, and lively. Everywhere you look, there’s something to do. At the same time, it’s also impossible to tell what time it is. There are no windows to the outside, there are no clocks. This place is beyond such a thing. There are games everywhere you look, ranging from the pseudo-gambling to sports to pixelated video games in cabinets. Yet no matter which boxing game, pinball machine, or skeeball machine you look at, the same creatures and themes arrive. Cactuars, chocobos, the fiercest Behemoth, the cuddliest Moogle… For those from the realms of Final Fantasy, this will feel natural- homey even. Everyone else will simply understand that there is a fairly strong central theme here about magic, machines, and monsters. It’s hard to tell how long you spend here, and it seems to sit outside of the very concept of time. Still, there are many restaurants, lounges, and vending machines. There are shops and costume rentals. There are even little pharmacies with headache remedies if the partying gets out of hand. And when you grow tired, there is a hotel- though it is made up like a haunted house, you can count on getting some semi-restful sleep. ⏵ playtime ⏴Interdimensional Games At first, stepping through to play any of these games may make participants wonder if they have been teleported somewhere else entirely. But on closer inspection, all the skies above are merely well-constructed interiors with painted ceilings. After all, it always seems to be daytime during these games. Snowboarding - Race to the bottom of the mountain, but avoid obstacles and complete as many tricks as possible! Chocobo Racing- Race on Chocobo-back around a treacherous outdoors race track which can either be taking place in a desert, a swampy forest, or upon an island beach. Work in tandem with your rented bird and against your competition by throwing hazards in their way or utilizing buffs garnered on the track. Different colored birds will yield different advantages. Yellow - Good All Rounder Red - Fast, but hard to steer Blue - Slower, but very easy to steer. Much easier to pick up items from them. Green- Resilient against traps and sabotage Colosseum Battle- Face off against the fiercest beasts around. Pair up with friends or rivals to Collaborate or Compete to do the most damage and deliver the final blow. These battles are synced to the comparative power of the one entering the competition. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt unnecessarily, after all. And indeed, no one will get seriously, gruesomely, or permanently injured in these battles. Those without fighting capabilities can rent weapons outfitted Materia to assist them in their trial. These will allow anyone to cast spells, though not guarantee any better wielding of weapons. There are a hundred rounds, starting with fairly simple Spriggans, ranging all the way up to blood-thirsty Behemoths to challenge even the most battle-hardened hero. Gold Saucer Games Leap of Faith- Players are presented with an obstacle course that stretches a hundred feet into the air upon floating platforms and islands. Both are held aloft by magical crystals. Powers are entirely nerfed, though falling and hitting the ground is strangely painless. Those who collect the most silver and gold statuettes of cactuars placed at random throughout the course will be awarded proportionate GP; though there is a bonus for those that reach the very top first. Triple Triad- Everywhere you look, people are playing this game on little 3 by 3 boards, or any surface with enough space. You will be given a loaner deck to play with. Are you clever enough to defeat your fellows. Fashion Report- Theobold, familiar to some, stands by himself in a little booth with a dressing room and an incredibly expansive walk-in closet. He is a robot of distinguished fashion and strong opinions on those fashions. Do you dare subject yourself to his scrutiny? Come prepare in his wondrous closets to make the best outfit for the chance to win a prize. Please submit your fashion here! There are Arcade Machines and activities galore. If you can think of it, it’s probably there- Just with that Final Fantasy pastiche on it, of course. ⏵ the beehive lounge ⏴ There are other places to eat at the Gold Saucer, but the vending machines and cafés all pale in comparison to the dinners at the Beehive. For all the rave reviews, there is a dress code at the Beehive, and this is literal. If you step inside and are not currently wearing a dress, you will be ushered into a sideroom and appropriately made over. However, this is only for those trying to go in through the normal doors. Around the side there happens to be an employee entrance, manned by a bot. He will only allow those in who seem like they intend to work— and therefore must be wearing at least one piece of the Bunnysuit Collection to trick the guard. Once you are made over or have snuck in, you are free to relax inside with drinks, dine on a fine meal, watch the dancers, or participate yourself if you feel brave enough. Why would anyone ever dance here? Well, that’s simple. It pays really well. So if you’re sick of games, or terrible at them— you can always come dance for a shift. Though, don't get any unseemly ideas about freeing yourself of your clothing, this isn't that kind of establishment! ⏵ haunted house ⏴ When you grow too weary or drunk from a day of games, you may be directed to somewhere a little quieter to sleep. Up the elevator, and through the doors reveals a modest walk through some woods until a quaint, victorian hotel appears. It is always nighttime here, and the stars and moon twinkle above. The receptionist, a bot in a rather bedraggled-looking chocobo mascot costume checks you in and shows you to your room. You can sleep here, especially if you can tolerate the hokey haunted decorations strung up around the place. Though sometimes, late at night, there will come a vigorous thumping on the door to startle sleeping patrons awake- Only for the culprit to vanish and be impossible to locate. ⏵ ticket counter ⏴ The prize counter is manned by a bot and has a sign posted overhead. Most prizes will be handed over inside an appropriately sized wrapped box, as the contents are a mystery. Sparklers & Glowsticks 10 gp Bunny Suit 300 gp Bunny Stockings & Heels 150 gp Animal Ears (Random) 500 gp Kigurumi (Random) 100 gp Chocobo Barding (Random) 1000 gp Classic White Mage Robes 500 gp Classic Black Mage Robes 500 gp Plush Toy (Random) 100 gp Wind-Up Minion (Random) 200 gp Chocobo Mascot Suit (Random Color) 2000 gp Triple Triad Booster Pack 50 gp Triple Triad Card in your Likeness 10,000 gp ⏵ NOTES ⏴ This TDM may be treated as a mini-Mission. Time will not pass inside of it in relation to the world outside - meaning, this can be happening at any time between late May into early July! This Gold Saucer is a bit of a mix between that of FF7's and FF14's, but it also has some things that neither have as well. Any inaccuracies are entirely intentional, aimed to make this rest within a space of uncanny valley for those who are familiar. While otherwise being a bit of a chaotic fantastical funhouse for everyone else! If there is something unlisted, chances are it will exist if it is in either of the other versions of the Gold Saucer. Characters already in game are welcome to post to the TDM, too! Please mark them as current characters in your header. Threads can be kept as game canon as long as both characters get into the game! Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

gustave | clair obscur: expedition 33 (cw: blood, dissociation. Act 1 spoilers within!)

[demainvient]

𝑳𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆-𝒎𝒐𝒊 𝒎'𝒆𝒏𝒗𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒖𝒎𝒆́𝒆: 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙 — 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑢𝑚

[ He can hear Maelle screaming, begging, her fists pounding impotently on the glowing barrier of her cage. He can feel his own heart beating, rapid and terrified in his chest. He feels strangely off-balance, his left arm a diminished stump once again, the familiar weight of his sword now dragging him to the right. It doesn't matter, none of it matters, only Maelle, only protecting her. He raises his sword. He pushes himself into a run.

(For those who come after.)

His eyes open.

There's no flurry of petals and ash, no blaze of chroma, and for a moment Gustave blinks in the light, eyes squinting and watering against it. After the dimness of the caves, the brightness feels like an assault.

He's on his knees, braced on his shaking right arm, no longer on unforgiving rock but on something more lenient: sand, maybe. Dirt. Something drips from him, pattering into the earth beneath him, and he shifts back to set his right hand over the wound still open in his chest. Another yawns a little higher, more central, but his mind shies away from it, away from the memory of heat and light and a sudden impenetrable blackness.

He's still bleeding — his uniform is saturated with it — but the terrible weakness of before is gone. If he has to, he thinks, he could push onward.

...Which is good, because before that thought completes itself, the ground beneath him shakes and something very big that is much too close opens what is probably an inconveniently large mouth and roars. He blinks, trying to shunt away exhaustion, and sets his hand down to brace himself as he gets unsteadily to his feet. His fingers brush something and he looks down, stares for a moment at the metal arm lying there in the earth.

As if in a dream, Gustave reaches to pick the thing up, attaching it with a familiar motion to the stump of his left arm. It, too, feels not quite right, stiff and dull, but at least he has it for whatever's coming. He stands, reaching his right hand for the familiar grip of his sword, feeling it coalesce into his palm as he turns to observe the thing in here with him, and... fuck. It's big.

Big, and metal, and with two many legs along with a stinging tail arching high up over its back. It's like no Nevron he's ever seen. ]

Putain.

[ He's in no shape to fight this thing, but it seems like he's not going to get that choice. There's a shift of motion at his side: someone else. ]

Ça m'énerve. [ Muttered as he lifts his left hand and calls his pistol into existence in a golden, glowing swirl of chroma. ]

Ready?

𝑵𝒐𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡𝘩

[ There's an air of resignation to the way Gustave looks out over the course ahead. No grappling attachments, no climbing holds, just platforms and ropes and other aggravating obstacles floating a dizzying height over the ground.

The Gestrals would love it. He's less of a fan, especially injured and sick as he is. ]

What do I get if I make it to the end? Another swimsuit?

[ He's good on that, thanks. ]

𝑳'𝒖𝒏 𝒑𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒅𝒆 𝒓𝒆̂𝒗𝒆𝒔: 𝘩𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒

[ He's tired, and hurt, and heartsick, and walking through the woods feels almost like he could turn and see Maelle at his side, Lune and Sciel behind him, all of them getting heavy-eyed, ready to make camp. But he can't find any of them no matter how hard he looks: there were no familiar red ponytails in the bustling crowds; no slyly amused voice coming out of nowhere to berate him for wandering off alone. Lune isn't here this time to pull him out of his head, and he sinks further and further into it as he moves forward.

The house, too, is unfamiliar, but he feels a dull pang of grief and longing as he looks up at it, hearing almost as if she were there Maelle's curious delight at the sight. She'd probably love this whole strange place, almost as much as he hates it.

Inside, he follows a metallic porter, barely caring where he's going, only knowing he needs to rest. Now and then he stumbles, knocking accidentally into another patron as they pass in the halls, and he lifts his blood-stained hand in apology. ]

Sorry, sorry.

[ Later, in the room, he finds that despite his terrible muffling exhaustion, he can't sleep. Over and over again he sees Maelle, tears streaking her face, her voice high-pitched in horror. When the knockings start, he's all too ready to roll to his feet and head out into the hall to investigate, pausing when he comes across another curious patron. ]

Do you have any idea what that was?

𝑬𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒅𝒐̂𝒎𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆́𝒂𝒎: 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑑 [ pm or hmu @ repeatandfade to plot! ]

wildcard

[betenoir]

spoilers.

[Renoir finds himself a stranger in a strange land. He avoids the crowds, shows no interest in games and heads towards the stables where he spends his time amongst wild creatures until dusk.

There is something relaxing about being around beasts instead of people. They cannot lie to you. They cannot betray you.

He only heads towards the inn come the end of the night. There are few patrons around at this hour; he's all too ready to find his room and deliberate over everything that happened and starts climbing the stairs. He arrives on the landing when the other is preparing to leave it. Now he has inadvertently trapped the man. There are three options for Gustave, retreat to his room, press forward or remain frozen in shock.]

[demainvient]

Act 1 spoilers!

[ Oh, I'm running as soon as I see a strand of white hair. You won't even see me, I'm running so fast.

But he hadn't run then, and he doesn't run now, his feet nailed to the floor with shock. He can hear his heart thudding in his ears, beating strong and fast, ratcheting up with fear.

(How is his heart beating, it had been destroyed in a vicious glare of chroma, it's gone, he's gone—)

Gustave stares back at the man who murdered him, unmoving aside from the rapid rise and fall of his chest. It hadn't worked before, he knows that. It won't work now.

But just like then, he has to try.

A slow shift of his hand, fingers opening and closing again around the grip of his sword as he calls it into being in a shower of chroma. Despite his fear, he feels strangely calm, steady. After all, he's died once already. And this time, he has nothing else to lose. ]

[betenoir]

spoilers.

[Renoir leans gently on his cane, balancing most of his weight onto his opposite foot. His gaze elevates slightly, his expression distant and reflective. His emotions consume him for a moment. It was to be expected. He cannot fault this man. But when he summons his weapon, his lips press together in a melancholic line.

The act was unavoidable, not something he desired. But he had crossed that moral line (like so many before) and accepted these emotions as his burden. This man had sacrificed his life to defend his family. He can honour that. But can he respect him for losing his life over nothing?

Because here both are without a child to defend.

The thought of it keeps him silent and thoughtful. He does what he did then and holds himself back. This pointless decision. He understands it. But he cannot understand the futility surrounding it.]

𝑵𝒐𝒔 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒕: 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑝

[fromfire]

[ act iii spoilers may be mentioned in brackets ]

[ Verso wonders what kind of expression he's wearing. He isn't quite sure himself. It's not fear but it may be guilt. His eyebrows furrow as he tries to make sense of who he's seeing in front of him. Flicking his gaze to the ground, he wonders if he's gone mad. But that probably isn't it.

He's quiet for a few beats too long. ]

Sorry. I was imagining how bad it'd be to be a pancake. [ Finding his voice, he tosses out a light joke before pointing over the edge. ] Although -- [ He makes a show of getting up on his tip-toes to peer over. ] -- they don't look like they're doing that bad, do they?

[ A smile. ] Guess it really is one of those Gestral games. [ Taking a step forward, he rests his hand on Gustave's shoulder -- he attempts to alleviate the pain and sick that he can see. But his eyes widen as he finds he isn't able to take the man's pain onto himself. ]

Would you believe I'm not trying to flirt?

[demainvient]

[ The man next to him is striking-looking, but that's not what catches Gustave's attention, drawing it from the platforms ahead and the fall below. No: it's the uniform he wears, worn and more than a little ragged but still easily recognizable, despite the design being an unfamiliar one. The colors are right, the basic structure of it, though the sash around the man's waist isn't something he's seen before.

And Gestrals.

Gustave glances at the hand on his shoulder, then over into the man's face, cataloguing the scar over his eye, the faint humor in his expression along with... what is that? Fear of heights, maybe? ]

You're an Expeditioner.

[ Obvious, maybe, but he's still not feeling his best. There's a gold armband breaking up the line of charcoal fabric on his arm, but Gustave can't quite read the number from here.

His eyebrows push up, faintly sardonic, at the comment. ]

You know, saying something like that tends to make people think that is what you're trying to do.

[ Not that Gustave is precisely such an excellent target right now, blood-spattered and exhausted and injured as he is. ]

If you were planning to push me off, I'd have gone for a hand on the back, myself.

[fromfire]

I am. [ Normally, he would wait to be questioned as to why he doesn't look familiar, but he feels a weariness hit him. ] From Expedition Zero.

[ He matches the raised eyebrows but the curve of his smile is friendlier, amused. Verso thinks he almost feels those emotions himself. ]

Well, there are worse people to be hit on than me. [ His eyebrows furrow. ] Can't think of any, though, but when I do -- [ He trails off, letting a warmer smile slide over his lips. ]

No. I'm not planning any of the sort.

[ He pats his shoulder. His expression shifts to something complicated but it fades away to his usual lopsided grin. ]

I was, however, thinking I should carry you. [ He tilts his head. ] It looks like you could use the help crossing over, anyway.

( arrival )

[offseers]

[ noah is no stranger to blood. he's waded through countless battlefields. walked among husks and motes. the dead don't speak, but the living. the living always cry. so he doesn't blanch when the pistol comes up. he doesn't reach for his blade. he merely looks . . . impossibly sad. as he always does. ]

Do you really want to do this?

[demainvient]

Not especially.

[ He hasn't got any clue of why he's even here, let along facing down this... is it a Nevron? He doesn't have any idea.

Nor does he know the person next to him, looking so melancholy. ]

But I'm not sure there's much of a choice to be had in the matter.

[offseers]

There's always a choice. For the moment.

[ noah hesitates. ]

Are you hurt anywhere? I can try to help patch you up.

haunted house / wildcard-ish (lmk if I need to edit!)

[sabigoe]

[ Small, light footsteps can be heard approaching from behind him. If Gustave turns around, he'll see a very young girl, dressed in a nearly entirely white dress. The black and red ribbons, gifted to her by another Etrayan, tied in her pigtails contrast to the rest of her usual fit.

Not too far down the hall, there's an open door leading to her room, evidence that she too had been awakened by the thumping on her door. The first thing Fio sees is the man covered in blood and she mistakenly thinks he's the reason for all the disruptive knocking. Instead of being afraid, she wonders if he requires any help. She's not a doctor and she doesn't have any healing abilities... but maybe she can try to track someone down. ]

...Excuse me, was it you knocking on my door? You don't look so good.

it's perfect! sorry for the delay!

[demainvient]

[ At the sound of movement behind him, Gustave turns, a little too abruptly, his right hand reaching in a reflexive motion—

Only to drop as he sees the small girl standing there in the middle of the hall. No threat here. He allows a brief moment of relief that he hadn't summoned his sword, his pistol, and gives the girl a small smile. It flickers, but there's warmth behind it.

It's been a long time since Maelle was that small, but some bone-deep reactions never quite go away. ]

No, it wasn't me.

[ He takes a step closer, head tipping to the side as he bends down a little to speak to her. Despite the heightened stress of the moment, his voice is warm and steady. ]

I'll be all right. I'm sorry if I frightened you.

no worries~

[sabigoe]

[ It might seem strange that someone as young as her has wandered into the hall without any supervision. No one else appears from the door leading back into her room. Though, the friends she's made so far might express disappointment to know she's been venturing places alone again.

Despite the reassurance and warmth in his tone, her concern doesn't fade, full of worry more than fear. ]

But... [ Fio trails off for a moment. Perhaps she should focus on the mysterious knocking which is the main reason she stepped out in the first place, but it's difficult to ignore the blood on his clothing. She wonders what happened, if the cause was from the culprit or something else. She did notice an arena somewhere in the games area outside. ]

Are you sure? We should really find you a healer or a doctor. There's... so much blood on you...

Colosseum

[levelshift]

[It's depressing, really, to find one's self in yet another colosseum. The one in Aphaia had been built for entertainment, much like this one, but the difference in necessity is stark and severe in Accelerator's mind. In Aphaia it had been simple: perform, keep your score up, or hit 0 and die. Given his skill set, fighting had been the easiest way to stay alive.

But here? It's basically just a game. The points aren't needed, they aren't tied to your mortality. Get enough and you can trade them in for a fucking stuffed animal like any normal arcade, that's how unnecessary they are.

Yet, he's standing here, eyeing some big robot scorpion. Annoying, so annoying.

After seeing some of the prizes (namely, some extremely adorable stuff two brats back in Etraya would likely enjoy), he sat down and methodically inspected every game and weighed his chances of success based on his abilities. It came down to Triple Triad and the Colosseum, and given he's feeling an itch to do a bit of venting, the Colosseum won. At least the enemy is just a brainless monster and not some other person?

... Speaking of, he glances over disdainfully at the guy who is apparently bleeding out. He didn't realize he'd be stuck with a teammate, and certainly not an injured one.]

Yeah, unless you're gonna keel over from blood loss. [He clicks his tongue, resting his free hand on the switch to the small black device around his neck.] I don't want to be dragging a fucking dead body out of here.

[Is he serious or joking about that, it's a mystery, but the mental image of some skinny twig of a teenager with a crutch dragging anyone around seems unrealistic.]

[demainvient]

[ Gustave slides a sidelong glance at him, similarly unimpressed.

It's not that his new teammate is wrong exactly. He's far from being at his best, exhausted and wounded and weak. There's some horrible, cruel irony in having found himself once more in the middle of a fight, when his hand is still aching from gripping his sword and his body is still battered from the caves, the Nevron, the white-haired man.

But, considering they seem to have little choice in the matter: ]

Well, I'd rather not be a dead body, so it seems our priorities align.

[ In that, and also in this: the enormous Nevron — not a Nevron, but he doesn't have any very good idea of what it might be other than a monster — scuttling threateningly toward them.

Despite his injuries, the way his arm doesn't feel quite right, dulled and strangely fragile, Gustave holds his ground and sights along his outstretched arm, the pistol in his hand steady, flickering with chroma. He squeezes off a shot, hitting the thing in what he hopes is an eye, and is rewarded with a curdling shriek of rage and pain as the monster rears back, tail striking out blindly. ]

Ever seen one of these before?

[levelshift]

[Hey, hopefully this guy has enough skills to keep himself from getting killed, despite his clear injuries. Accelerator sighs a little, reaching up to flick a switch on the device that's around his neck. The light on it changes from green to red.

Then he retracts his crutch into its arm cuff, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Not exactly a defensive stance, but he doesn't look concerned.]

It looks like it's just a robot scorpion. We've got similar shit back home.

[The FIVE_Over Modelcase_"RAILGUN"s resembled mantises, and the FIVE_Over OS Modelcase_"ACCELERATOR"s looked like crabs, so creating a robotic scorpion weapon isn't that far-fetched to him. This one reacts a bit more realistically though, more like an animal or a monster? Maybe it's supposed to be more along the lines of a video game character.

... Does that mean they should refrain from destroying it? Would that be killing it, if it's more like an animal? Accelerator isn't sure, and he inclines his head to consider this, even as the creature's tail lashes out towards him.

It looks like it gets close enough to hit and there is some kind of impact, but the tail ricochets off and slams into the ground as Accelerator continues to stand here, totally unscathed.]

Are we supposed to just knock this bastard out? Or actually kill it?

Nos chemins divergent

[whennotif]

SPOILERS for act 2

[She isn’t prepared for who she sees standing before the obstacle course. It feels like ripping open that wound all over again. She stares.

Her fingers flex in the familiar shift to weave chroma but nothing comes to her call. She has been told it wouldn’t. And yet. She joins him at the edge and turns to face him.

Lune relies on logic first. Always. She can’t. Her breath is coming out faster as she reaches out and gently grips his shoulder if he allows it. She studies him regardless if he allows it or not, eyes wide with shock.] How? Are we past…did we always have it…

[The world has tilted off the axis she knew all her life and she struggles with it. But at least there is some good in this shift.]

[demainvient]

[ There's someone else on the platform with him, a figure so familiar at his side that for a moment it doesn't occur to him to find it strange. And then— ]

Lune.

[ Relief rushes in, oceanic in the way it floods him and spiked with bewildered happiness, and as she grips his shoulder he reaches up to curl his fingers around her upper arm. The last time he saw her, she was laughing, relieved that the fight was over, jumping gracefully over the edge of that cliff there at what turned out to be the end of his world.

Her words tumble over themselves almost the way his own do, and he shakes his head, battered heart clenching in his chest. ]

I don't know, I don't— I just woke up, here, in a, a, a, an arena of some kind... there was this, this monster, not a Nevron—

[ His brows tug together, eyes glancing down, around, back at her, words stammered.

Lune, Lune and her logic. Yes. He could use a little logic.

Maybe a lot. ]

...You're really here. Are you...? Really here?

[whennotif]

[The shoulder under her hand is warm. The hand on her arm steadies some part of her that never felt stable after he was ripped out of their lives like everyone else. She smiles through sudden tears. She leans into him, taking stock of the situation.

She steadies herself, looking up at him, and nods. She blinks away the tears. It is hard to pull up logic. He is looking to her for steady ground. She takes a breath, her voice softer and a little shaky.] I'm really here.

And I'm not going anywhere. [She glances around. It's still crazy. Somehow all of it is a lot more bearable with him here. She looks back at him, regaining a little composure as she gently squeezes his shoulder.] But I don't know where we are. I was...where I was and then I was here.

colosseum.

[brat]

( ready, the man says, but the boy beside him doesn't require any cue to begin his own work.

instead, there's a click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth before he's bending his knees and taking off at the massive thing. it's not a beast he's fought before, but it's irrelevant; he's taken down beasts before, and this one will be no different. there's no waiting on the man behind him, nor does the boy bother to pause and check where he's opted to try and hit it.

instead, a hand slips down into his utility belt to grab several small explosives from it. as he passes one leg, one of the explosives gets left behind - and as the tail swipes for him, the boy ducks down in time for it to pass over him, an arm raising to grab hold of it and let it drag him along with it.

there's a fluffy of movement from his yellow cape, splashes of red when the cape no longer covers the tunic under it, but the boy remains quiet even as the first explosive knocks the beast off balance, hindering him slightly when he goes to get a leg over the tail, too. it may try to throw him off, but robin isn't one to allow an enemy to toss him around as they'd like. )

[demainvient]

[ The boy that goes rushing past him can't be much older than his apprentices — looks about the same age, really — but none of them have been trained to do anything like that. Not yet, anyway, though several of them have already started their Academy training, learning to fight Nevrons for a future Expedition they all hope won't be needed.

It's easy to follow his trajectory, brightly dressed as he is, that cape fluttering behind him like a banner, and he's certainly impressive. It's more than possible he could take the thing down himself.

But he doesn't need to. Gustave shifts, moving to the side to avoid the push of air and flash of light that comes as the first explosive goes up before he darts in. The sweep of his sword carries a flash of golden light with it, blade biting into the thing's metal leg, on the same side as the leg that had just been blown up. If they're getting it off-balance, may as well make sure it can't regain it again. ]

colosseum + wildcard

[restingstitchface]

[Crane has been making himself available in various places. He greets those who look like they need a friend, watches those who enjoy putting on a show, and observes those who seem to be playing the same game. This man seems like the first - but there are suggestions of something he cannot place.

He watches the man inspect his prosthetic, noting how he carries himself with a weight that is anything but physical. A puzzle. A challenge. A curiosity. The man's fingers are twitching like he cannot believe something.

And he wants to know what that something is.]

Having trouble?

[He doesn't offer his help. But the gentle way his hands cross over his stomach suggest it's not because he's being impolite. The opposite in fact.]

[demainvient]

[ The arena had been... bad, but survivable. But as the rush of adrenaline slowly seeps away, the weight of... everything simply crowds back in. Maelle, screaming, sobbing. The white-haired man with that strange tilt to his mouth that had looked almost like regret. The sound of his own breath, weirdly hollow, rushing like the sea wind into that lonely cave.

He looks up from flexing the fingers on his left hand, trying to ascertain the extent of the damage, to focus through the pain and exhaustion. ]

What?

[ The question registers after a moment, and he shakes his head, looks down at his hand again, slowly curling his fingers into a fist and shaking them back out again. ]

It was damaged. I'll need to, to repair it.

[ Merde, does he have his tools, does he have anything? He feels the weight of his pack on his back, but has no idea what might be in it.

He shakes his head again, like a dog trying to get rid of some annoying buzzing insect, and grimaces at himself, then looks back at the newcomer. ]

Sorry, you are...?

Leap of faith - I'm sorry, Gustave

[repaintress]

[ There is a pure, primal joy in the use of one's body. It's a joy Clea has been denied since her brother's death: There is no time for dancing when there are people to be cared for, positions to be defended, and a manor to be rebuilt. When there is justice to be pursued. There has been no dancing: What would she dance to without Verso to accompany her?

But this.

This is not dancing. This is like the games the Gestrals came up with to challenge her and Verso when they were small: Competitions she had almost always won until Verso had been rude enough to enter adolescence and surpass her in height as well as brute strength.

But control. Control is something Clea Dessendre had in spades.

She leaps with expertly timed jumps, feet barely touching the ground before she pushes off again, inertia carrying through to assist her with the jumps. Each movement is calculated and confident as she grabs the small statues, reveling in the opportunity to stretch her legs, the burning of her muscles and the pounding of her heart a welcome distraction.

Her toes barely graze the edge of a platform before she pushes off of it, reaching her arm above her head to pull a golden cactaur from where it sits on a needle sized platform before falling gracefully with a roll back at the start.

Clea remains in a seated position, a satisfied (and peaceful) look on her face as she pulls statues from her pockets, unaware anyone is nearby until he speaks.

Looking up at him, Clea measures him up and down with an open frankness. A swimsuit would look good on him. ]

Perhaps I should donate the prize to you if I win, Monsieur.

[demainvient]

[ She reminds him a little of Sciel.

Not in how she looks; in how she moves. Sciel embraced the joy of the physical, too, dancing up on a stage with the gleam of her pictos bursting around her like flowers of light, tangling with gestrals in their arena as their newest champion. But Sciel never moved with this level of focused precision, easy and flexible even in combat, where this woman seems personally determined to collect every tiny statuette not within the game's timeframe, but her own.

He looks over at her, a little taken aback by her frank assessment — he's far from looking his best, surely, grimy and sick and injured — but has to huff an amused breath at the comment, the way she looks him up and down, anyway. ]

And take away your hard-earned reward, Mademoiselle? I couldn't possibly.

[ There's little enough chance of him earning it for himself, in his current state, but he's still a gentleman. ]

You did that beautifully. Having fun?