Scenario: Something Wicked - 8:44 a.m.
Things were uncharacteristically quiet aboard the Something Wicked, most of the crew having taken off on their own separate excursions. Of course, the ship still needed a guard, and so Miguel stood firm at the entrance of the ship, keeping a close eye out for any who might approach. Omah, on the other hand, paced impatiently around the room, the pitter-patter broken up by loud groans of boredom.
“Daaaaaa~~~d!! We’ve just been standing here for hours!” She whined, tugging at Miguel’s sleeve. “When are we going to explore the island? Everyone else got to go!”
“We won’t be.” Miguel said firmly, looking down to her. “I’ve told you this already, it’s far too dangerous out there. Those treasure hunters will attack on sight to protect their hauls.”
“But daaaa~~d!! It’s fine, I’d be smashin’ up everything anyway! They’d be too scared!”
“The answer’s no.” Miguel reiterated. “Besides, there’s enough destruction going on out there already, we don’t need to add to it.”
Omah crossed her arms with a huff, dramatically slumping down into a nearby chair and yanking up her hood to hide her face. “What’s the big deal with smashing up a bunch of old rocks that are already smashed…” she grumbled, pulling out her Gameboy Advance and booting up her copy of Gamera the Guardian of the Universe.
She sighed wistfully. Gamera wouldn’t take this kind of thing sitting down… why should she?
Miguel stared off at the sea, mind wandering. It was difficult to convey to Omah just how dangerous it was out there, especially now that this ‘computer’ was in play. If what they say about it is true, the power to grant a person’s ‘Greatest Desire’... Well, who knows what would happen if some self-interested treasure hunter got their hands on it. It was a veritable monkey’s paw, with its finger set to curl and crush everyone who lay in its palm.
CRRREAAAAAAKKKKKK
Miguel’s train of thought became entirely derailed as the Something Wicked became weighed down to its Port side. Of course, the second he takes his eye off the shore, something had to go wrong. He reeled around, training his crossbow on the gangway, eyes darting around searching for the target.
Glancing down, he let out a slight groan. Omah glanced up slightly from her game, only to shoot up from her seat, grinning from ear to ear.
The boards of the ship creaked beneath Old Grey Wolf’s feet as he slowly trundled aboard. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring down Miguel and Omah with a low grunt.
Omah sprinted to his side, excitedly hugging him around the neck. “Gamera, Gamera!! It’s really you! You came to see me!!”
Miguel stepped forward, reaching a hand out. “Omah-! Watch out, you don’t know how it’ll react-”
Old Grey Wolf stood still, receiving a barrage of neck hugs and pats on the head. It gave Miguel a weary look, but did not protest. Miguel recognized the look all too well, a kind of exasperated acceptance of his face. He lowered his crossbow slightly.
“See, dad? We’re friends! He just came to hang out with us!”
Miguel stared at the large turtle warily. He severely doubted it was here just to chill, every previous encounter having ended in mass destruction. Seemingly confirming his assumption, Old Grey Wolf finally pulled away, turning to face the coast.
The turtle stared towards the coast, and back to Omah, a slight narrow of his eyes indicating his interest. Omah’s face suddenly looked determined, dropping to her knees and grabbing the sides of his head. She stared into his eyes, seemingly trying to read his thoughts. The turtle’s eyes darted to the sides, looking somewhat exasperated.
“Go on… Tell me what you need… Use your thoughts…!” Omah said with great concentration. Miguel facepalmed.
After a few moments, Omah jumped to her feet.
“Ohhhh, I get it! C’mon dad, Gamera needs help with the runback!”
Miguel’s eyebrows furrowed disconcertedly. “The… runback?”
“Yeah, c’mon, there’s no time to waste!” Omah yelled excitedly, starting towards the gangway. Miguel took a step forward, reaching his hand out.
“Come on now, I said-”
Old Grey Wolf shot a dirty look up to Miguel with a low groan. Miguel pulled his hand back, staring at the angry turtle with a beleaguered frown.
It was dangerous out there…
But if this grumpy old beast didn’t get his way, it was sure to turn the Something Wicked into an absolute warzone.
Miguel sighed. He couldn’t let the ship be destroyed under his watch. He hesitantly gestured for Omah and OGW to make their way down the gangway.
“Where are we running, anyway?”
Scenario: Zandoo Underground - The Next Day - 4:51 p.m.
"This place is seriously nuts."
Ichiro ran a careful finger over a glowing vein along the wall of a side tunnel, turning into the larger main thoroughfare with a smaller figure following close behind. "What do you figure it was all for? Uropeh already did some crazy stuff, why build all this?"
"[It's a giant computer, apparently. Grants wishes.]" The Howler glanced behind the pair into the relatively dark gloom of the underground complex, standing still a moment to confirm the two were alone before continuing. "[At least that's what the rumors are saying. The two that bumped off Elstree apparently saw some kind of server room.]" Jealousy was evident in the insect's tone, clearly regretful that he wasn't there to be a part of the Son's ultimate downfall.
"Eeeeh..." Ichiro's mind raced. It suddenly made sense why ECHIDNA was so insistent that they retrieve what they could from the complex and bring it back to Libertalia. But were a bunch of thousand-year-old rocks really compatible? "...what do you figure it can run?"
The Howler scoffed. "[Like, a thousand games of Pong.]" The two laughed as they continued onward, Ichiro stretching while sneaking a glance at his escort.
Despite how abrasive and proud the mutant could be, he couldn't think of anyone else he'd want to be stuck underground with. Talking with him felt natural, free of the eggshells he felt when speaking around the rest of the team. He could ask stupid hypotheticals and get an equally stupid answer, like they understood each other on some level hidden from everyone else. It felt so... normal, something rare but very welcome for Ichiro.
The two came to another opening in the main drag. The Howler wordlessly turned toward another path to explore, passing a suddenly stationary Ichiro. "So we're... kinda stripping it of parts then, huh?"
The Howler slowly pivoted, shrugging. "[I guess so. Depends on what we find.]"
"And you're... okay with just, y'know, taking it?" Ichiro's gaze wandered from his friend, hands busying themselves scratching his hair.
Howler tucked his myriad hands into his hoodie pocket, a knowing gaze falling on the kid standing before him. The kid clearly had something on his mind, but wouldn't just come out and say it; if it were anyone else that kind of coy bullshit would anger him to no end. But spending a year around the guy brought understanding, and more so a desire to help a friend. If Ichiro's learned helplessness stayed his thoughts, then he'd tease them out.
"[Well, what do you think?]"
"Me? Uhh..." Ichiro fidgeted for a moment. As stupid as it felt, the little time he spent with the King on board the Highwind made him feel somehow responsible for the island, like looking after a friends' house while they're away. "It... feels kinda weird. Everyone's fighting for whatever all this is, and I'll keep fighting to keep people away from it, but now that we're here I kinda just wanna... I dunno..."
"[Despite the Captain asking for anything we can find?]"
Ichiro's eyes were called to Howler's at the implication of disobedience. The two stared each other down for a moment before the kid swallowed with a nod. "...Yeah."
The Howler smiled before breaking off the staredown. It was small, but every time Ichiro managed to stand up for himself felt like a victory. The insect shrugged and walked back past his friend. "[Fuck it, sounds good to me.]”
Ichiro sighed. The Howler was a good friend, but still managed to be intimidating sometimes. “[We're nearly out of here anyway, there's light up there.]" Ichiro span around, breaking into a jog and quickly passing the other.
“About damn time, feels like we’ve been in the dark forever!”
“[Dude, it’s been like an hour.]” Howler matched pace, the two quickly coming to a set of stairs leading up to the glow of a late afternoon sun.
Stepping over a shattered stone door, the two found themselves inside what seemed to be a large building. A hallway crossed in front of them, terminating shortly in either direction with a turn into what looked to be the same room. Ichiro took a deep breath, happy to be out of the earth and in the light of an overhead window.
"[...We're still on the island, aren't we?]" The odd question caused Ichiro's brow to furrow, but as he looked to his friend to fire off a snide reply, he immediately saw what he meant:
The wall of the hallway was adorned with paintings in wooden frames, some torn or otherwise broken where they hung, but intact all the same. As he got a better look of the surroundings the question only became more valid: the floor beneath them was an eloquently designed pattern of what looked to be blue-streaked marble, and in the far corners sat what looked to be furniture woven from reeds.
"...how the hell is all this still intact? It's hundreds of years old with an open skylight, it should be dust by now." The violent state of the paintings caused Ichiro's skin to crawl, it was as if they were slashed and torn apart minutes ago.
"[Dunno. New tennant?]" The Howler chuckled before he began to wander down the hallway, Ichiro quick to stay close.
As they turned the corner, the narrow hallway opened into a large atrium, walls lined with wooden pews that stood defiantly intact against centuries of wear. To their immediate left was a series of steps leading to a raised platform with an elegantly carved throne sitting alone at its center. Pillars along the sides of the chamber were clearly made of Uropeh, as well as a large pathway that led away from the steps and toward what looked to be the building's main entrance.
Ichiro marveled at the building while The Howler investigated a nearby pew, running a finger along the seat to find an almost complete lack of dust. “[What are the odds someone did some house cleaning in an ancient city?]”
“It’s like time just stopped moving...” Ichiro’s footsteps echoed over the polished stone floor as he approached the Uropeh inlay, carefully stretching a foot out and giving the engraving a careful tap. “Doesn’t look active, not sure what’s causing it–”
A noise caused the two to spin toward the raised throne: a stream of water gently pattered against the seat before running down the stairs toward the pair. A glance upward to its source triggered a sudden roar of running water as a large figure careened down from the skylight, narrowly dodged by the two with a dive toward the western pillars.
Weapons drawn and stands summoned, Howler stared in confusion at the massive snapping turtle that now sat on the throne, framed by a badly rusted stand body hanging off the chair’s high back.
“Oh fuck off! Not you again!” Ichiro’s outburst summoned daggers from Old Grey Wolf’s eyes as the turtle seemed to scowl. “Do you just enjoy messing with people?!”
“Yeah, he does!” A young voice echoed through the chamber from its main entrance, a disproportionately massive form stood defiantly perfectly opposite the turtle on the throne. “And he isn’t satisfied with the job from last time!”
Even more confused, The Howler leaned toward Ichiro. “[What the hell did you do?]”
“Nothing! I don’t even know that one!” Pointing at Omah seemed to summon Miguel from behind her. “Or that one!”
Crossbow in hand but not yet raised, the father spoke to his child in a voice deliberately loud enough for the room to hear. “Omah, we are not picking fights with strangers because a giant turtle told you to. We’ve been over this.”
Omah groaned, reverting to her human form in a huff. “This isn’t Gamera, dad! Wolf’s pride’s been lost, and as his best friend I gotta help him get it back!”
“[What if we weren’t strangers?]” A suddenly very interested Howler eased his knife grip and stepped forward, much to Ichiro’s dismay. “[I’m Howler and this is Ichiro. We’re not a fan of getting jumped, but it isn’t every day you get to spar with such interesting company!]”
Omah puffed out her chest with a wide, smug grin. “You’re pretty cool yourself! My dad’s Miguel and that’s Old Grey!” As she pointed to the throne, a blur of motion and surge of water sent the turtle careening across the atrium and to the family’s side, Miguel recoiling at its proximity.
“Howler, what–!” Ichiro yanked his friend back, pulling him close enough for a whisper. “The hell are we doing?! It's not like we’re protecting some find or whatever, we should just–”
“[You think we should leave?]” Ichiro was cut off by the same stare from his friend, that knowing, intimidating stare.
“I…” The interruption gave him a moment to think. He looked back at the odd group across the chamber. The girl petted the reptile with a laugh while her father returned a glare before stowing his weapon and grabbing her shoulders for a stern talk. They seemed close, a happy kid with a loving father and a… pet?
It made Ichiro’s face hot and stomach churn.
Resentment raged inside him. He wanted to escape. They mocked him by simply being there. A kid so effortlessly supported by those around her, how did she do it? What did he do wrong to not get the same? He needed to escape, or he wasn’t sure what–
“[Ichiro. What should we do?]”
The stare grounded him. It wouldn’t let him escape, withdraw from his problems. It was a friendly hand, outstretched and ready to support him. Intimidating, but welcoming. With a deep, shaky breath, Ichiro let go of Howler’s hoodie and stepped forward.
“...we spar.” It was an odd relief; there was no assigned objective or material gain on the line. Another step, one made for himself. He’d fight for his own satisfaction, his own release.
To put that damn turtle back in his place.
“Fine, but a clean fight this time!” Ichiro pointed at the group, gesturing to Howler. “One at a time, tag rules. No room for hard feelings that way, right?”
Howler’s smile beamed as his friend laid down the rules, nodding and bouncing in place. Things were about to get really interesting.
Omah’s eyes went wide at the idea before finding herself nodding and bouncing all the same. “...yeah! Yeah! Hell yeah!”
“Language!” Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose before limbering up, a glare at the turtle returned with a somehow satisfied nod. It was all so stupid to him, fighting for fighting sake, but at least the two didn’t seem to want to seriously hurt Omah. With a sigh, he accepted that it was better than most fights they stumbled into. “Fine, but I fight with my daughter! Take it or leave it!”
“Sure, go ahead.” Resentment surged in Ichiro again, ready to be purged every swing of his arm.
Open The Game!
Location: The atrium of a palace in Zandoo! The area here is 20x15m, with each tile being 1x1m. The area consists of a largely open stone-tiled room, with a decorative Uropeh pathway engraved along the center. The room is 12m tall. There are a few wooden benches and stone pillars lining the sides of the room, and a throne atop a series of stone steps (totaling 1m in height) at the north end of the room.
Goal: RETIRE your opponents!
Additional Information: Rather than fighting two-on-two as per usual, the players in this match will be abiding by “tag-in” rules, with one character per team “in play” and the other “in reserve”. Ichiro and Old Grey Wolf start in play, while the Howler and Miguel & Omah start in reserve.
While a character is in play, they will fight as they would in a normal 1v1, and are unable to be directly assisted by their partner. Meanwhile, when a character is in reserve, they may not directly interfere with the fight, though any stand effects they had in play before switching out will remain active. Characters in reserve will also slowly recover stamina (but do not heal damage or injuries).
At any point, the active character may “tag out”, moving into reserve while their partner “tags in”, moving into play. When a character tags in, they “appear” on the map within 3m of their partner’s previous position, and at least 2m away from the opponent’s position. In BBP’s case, both Miguel & Omah must appear together and within 3m of OGW when they tag in, while OGW will use Omah’s position as the reference point when he tags in. After a tag-in occurs, that team may not tag-in again for 10 seconds.
Once a character is RETIRED, they immediately go into reserve, and may not be tagged back in. In Miguel & Omah’s case, only one of the two needs to be RETIRED for both of them to be considered out-of-play.
Due to Omah’s Lagahoo physiology, she is unable to be transformed into an “Awful Insect” by Radical Action.
| Team |
Combatant |
JoJolity |
| Ghost Riders on the Sea |
Ichiro Kenmochi with The Howler |
“I couldn’t have summoned up that resolve if you weren’t here to heal me…” Make creative use of the tag-team mechanics! |
| Black Box Promenade |
Old Grey Wolf with Miguel Lloyd & Omah Garcia |
“I told you to go to the other side of those guys. That was our plan.” Make creative use of the tag-team mechanics! |
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