The results are in for Match 8. The winner is…
Funk Odyssey, with a score of 77 to Klein Bras-cheche Heitsugi’s 76!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Tie	13-13	This match bears the dubious honor of being the first in T5 not to strike the eight-vote threshold set in T3, meaning that the total value of each vote is reduced so to prevent extreme disproportionate leads. Luckily, it was a tie anyway, at 3.5-3.5.
Quality	Tie	26-26	Reasoning
JoJolity	Baker Street Rat Pack	28-27	Reasoning
Conduct	TEAM	10-10

In the aftermath of the fight, there wasn’t much left of the stage - crystal, fungus, and scrap alike had all built up, scattered around the arena, and in the center of it all stood Funk Odyssey, skidding her bike to a halt after having eked out a victory at the last moment.
Klein and Funk both stood near each other, both breathing heavily and trying to recover after the tiring ordeal, amid a roar of applause from whoever was there to watch the exciting fight.
“AAAAND, WE HAVE A WINNER! A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR FUNK ODYSSEY! Wait, why’s the mic-” Cairo stopped in confusion, the microphone that was amplifying their voice cutting out all of a sudden. Shifting a glance towards the producers on set, it seemed like they weren’t aware of what caused the problem either.
Confused murmurs could be heard from the stand users on-set. Okay, this was a technical error, but this was obviously salvageable - Cairo’s dealt with worse in the past, so-
The already bad situation turned worse when the lights cut out entirely, the speakers in the warehouse humming to life again, though not by the hands of any of the crew members. A second later, a synthesized text-to-speech voice could be heard over the speakers.
“HELLO, CITIZENS OF LOS FORTUNA. THIS BROADCAST IS BEING HIJACKED. ”
What the fuck. Looking at one of the screens by the edge of the warehouse previewing the stream, Cairo could see that the stream’s been taken over entirely by whoever it was that did this, with them currently displaying some kind of placeholder image of a shrouded figure. Wasting no time, Cairo left the two combatants and made their way over to the filming crew, trying to figure out what the hell was happening and how it could be stopped.
“WHETHER DUE TO MALICE OR WILLFUL IGNORANCE, BEING SO NORMAL AND ITS CREW HAVE BEEN COMPLICIT IN VARIOUS CRIMES, BOTH DURING AND PRIOR TO ITS RUNTIME.”
Funk could hear the murmurings of stand users around her, and of Cairo and the rest of the crew trying to figure out what exactly was going on and how to stop them. Was this Peter’s doing? Was that why he needed her to be here? Funk remembered hearing him mention the source for this investigation of his a few times - apparently he’d been working with a “Jesse Jefferson'' from the Agricultural District who’d gotten his hands on a flashdrive made by Nova Nascens containing this information, and thanks to Peter’s skills (combined with some stand magic from that magic house Jesse lived in that repaired the hard drive every time it literally exploded in their faces).
Meanwhile, it seemed like the show’s producers were still struggling to regain control of the stream.
“CAIRO HAS BEEN COMPLICIT IN PROMOTING UNREST WITHIN THE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT, WORKING ALONGSIDE ODIN TO SEND STAND USERS TO FIGHT WITH LOCAL UNIONS, LEADING TO RECENT RISING TENSIONS IN THE AREA.“
“FURTHERMORE, OTHER MEMBERS OF STAFF HAVE COMMITTED VARIOUS OTHER CRIMES, BUT NONE AS MUCH AS THIS SHOW’S LEAD CAMERAWOMAN - CAROLINE JEFFORDS.” The screen shifted to an image of a brown haired woman, who Funk could only assume was caroline. Then, it began shifting to a series of other, well-laid graphs, documents, and images, all presenting evidence for the accusations shown up until now.
“OVER THE YEARS, THIS WOMAN HAS COMMITTED COUNTLESS CRIMES ALL FOR THE SAKE OF PROFIT USING HER STAND - SPYING ON FIGURES OF NOTE FROM WITHIN THE CITY AND SELLING THE INFORMATION TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER, REGARDLESS OF INTENT, AND COVERING UP CRIMES AND TAMPERING WITH SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE FOR A PRICE. OF NOTE, EVIDENCE RELATING TO THE RECENT AND TRAGIC DEATH OF THE LATE ANDRÉ TIFÀNI HAS BEEN TAMPERED WITH IN ORDER TO FURTHER SHIFT THE BLAME ONTO-”
The feed cut off entirely, power having simply been cut to the building entirely. If Peter had found a way to make the stream continue even after this, Funk wouldn’t be able to see it.
For a moment, the warehouse was dead silent. Then, murmurings began between the various stand users in the audience, no one knowing what to make of this information. Regardless of whether the feed was cut or not, one thing was clear -
The damage had already been done, and the truth had come to light.
Surprises are everywhere, and there’s still yet more mysteries to be uncovered. Two boys have found doubles of themselves, who’ve lived their same lives yet all within the bounds of the city, and the four are now fighting. You only have a few hours left to vote in that when this goes up.
Scenario:
Sound’s Garden - Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater - Early Evening
The entrance to the theater which had, months ago now, put on one of the greatest shows in the city’s history had again been filled with eager people, wanting little more than to enjoy yet concert by Metra Doria, or “TD/MD”; it had been the first in a little while, her last appearances onstage being a string of benefit shows she’d performed for immediately after the destruction of Capital Island. They weren’t bad, critics had said, but far from her best work, as though spending several weeks kidnapped by the head of a citywide crime ring had affected her ability to perform or something.
Regardless, though, there were good feelings about this one, as since that fateful day, there hadn’t been a single bad show at the Alexander, and the local interview cycle had Metra come across as so much more genuinely excited than she had been, even if she also did publicly express her frustrations with the fact that, thanks to some act of sabotage, a leaking of information, the arrest of one Toby Fox had been subverted, and he and several of his buddies were still free to wreak their havoc.
Guy Manuel-Mota wasn’t much one to complain about a gig, whatever that job happened to be, and though he’d known the unscrupulous nature of his client, the garish Tigran “Golden” Sins, he also knew exactly how much money the guy had, so when he said that he and Fox had wanted a man on the ground at the stage out of fear that somebody might attack Metra, that even if he was trying to move past his affections for the girl, he’d still wished to keep watch over her, quietly.
If it was true, creepy. If it was a bold-faced lie, at least Guy knew damn well that they were good for their money if they had Seido fucking Shuto on retainer. Either way, he knew he’d get paid as long as he didn’t fuck up.
As Guy walked up to the ticket-takers, corralling eager audience members forward, he noticed them offering strange shiny wristbands to every single person who walked by, telling them “wear it if you want!” and finding, every time, that they just sort of mindlessly nodded and did just that.
When it came to be Guy’s turn, then, of course, he was much the same, accepting it and holding it in one hand, his stub in the other, as he looked the fake-gold, glittering accessory over, tilting his head as he noted the words, very subtly engraved, on it:

IWILLPLAY

“So… That’s your game, huh?” Guy asked, shrugging and slipping it on just like all the rest. He saw where this would go from here, and figured that what the guy paying him wanted was for him to play along.
“Uh, sir-” The ticket taker murmured and stammered at somebody, “sir, please, you can only take one! W-we need enough commemorative wristbands for a full house, so please-”
“Fuck off,” the pink-headed, ornery showgoer declared, yoinking the entire box away and fishing out several, putting a few all over his hands, “I want ‘em all!”
Huh… Guess that’s ‘trouble,’ right on cue. Should I lead him somewhere alone, or just wait for something, or..?
Before he could formulate a plan of action, Guy blacked out for what felt like a moment.
Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - Metra Doria’s Apartment - Earlier that Day
“Well, well, well,” Ananas ‘Agnes’ Bayley said, before cracking open a can of soda, downing it in several drawn out seconds, cracking open a second, downing that in seconds, and then, a third time, before stacking all three, “how the turntables.”
“…” Metra gave him a look, one which Agnes smugly knew was her asking herself, in that moment, ‘am I seriously going to work with this guy?’ It was a feeling he reveled in, being unwanted and dreaded, yet at once needed and tolerated. “So… Will you come? I’ll hook you up with VIP merch, owe you one in general, just… I dunno. I’ve been feeling extremely good about this show, excited, but now that Fox is out there again, I feel like I need… Backup, I guess? Like, I could take any one of those guys in a fight on my own, sure, but with a huge crowd, and trying to focus on my stuff, and…”
“And Arpeggi and that fuckin’… catgirl were busy, I take it.” Agnes snickered, moving around the cans’ placement, never on one of Metra’s coasters, watching as little rings formed on the table. “Heh, fuck ‘em anyway. Dealing with a situation like this… You don’t need some ‘good guy’ worried about not making a mess or whatever. You need a bona fide villain to flex on these posers. Call it fate that I was available short-notice and they weren’t.”
“Just…” Metra sounded resigned. “Please don’t cause too much trouble. Damages will come out of your reward.”
“Snrk… Of course. It’ll come out of my pay. A sentence I hear every day from Gabanna, you know.”
With Metra’s reluctance and Agnes’ amusement, a deal had been struck.
Metra Doria, too, had been handed one of those strange wristbands, and she, too, seemed to black out suddenly, only realizing a moment too late exactly what, once again, this had all meant. She hadn’t approved ‘commemorative wristbands’ on the dossier, and the text on it… Goddammit!
But… Her green room looked almost identical. What the hell was going on? Maybe her backup dancers would know something, or Agnes had noticed… He’d at least report to her if he had figured something out, right? …right?
She stepped outside, then, only to find herself, and what she’d thought was her green room, atop a shelf in a very high-up, VIP area, a sort of outdoor box seating-type arrangement which the Alexander saved for its most prized guests. Almost always, somebody from Fox’s little club.
She had been shrunk down to the size of a game piece, and sitting at a table nearby, watched with interest by about half a dozen suits she had come to recognize, was a perfect recreation of the entire stage and seating areas of the amphitheater. As she tried to process this, then, her view was taken up entirely by the giant, punchable face of Tigran Sins.
“Evening, Metra! Looks like you underestimated me again… Heh, for some reason, people keep doing that.” The very garish man laughed, but his eyes were glaring down at her. Always, he’d hated her, resented the attention she’d taken from Fox. “Been awhile, hasn’t it?”
“Tigran… What the fuck did you do?” Metra curled her tiny hands into fists, allowing her Stand, the headphones often seen at her neck, to manifest, “you… How many people are down there? I hear so many voices murmuring, even from here!”
“Thousands upon thousands,” Tigran remarked, “all waiting none the wiser for the show you promised them… Including a side appearance from two Stand Users. You really put all your faith in a loose cannon like that Agnes kid who set a fire in my casino? You’ve been acting cool, but you’re desperate, aren’t ya? You know we’re here to stay… And what game we’re playing.”
“You… You’d better run the hell away fast as soon as we’ve won, because we will ruin you.”
She tried to sound defiant, there, but Metra was trembling.
“Some things, a Stand User just can’t beat with all their strength, Metra… Now, c’mon.” He held up a cute little tiny limousine, cracking the door open. “You’ve got a show to do.”
The crowd came to at once, already amassed within the amphitheater, seats filled, standing room similarly heavily occupied. There was hardly room to move one’s arms around in there.
Which, of course, Agnes was doing anyway, swatting people away and getting called rude words, cackling as he made for himself some space. Something was fucking up here, and he did not want to be caught off-guard by-
“Hey.”
“Shit!” Agnes jumped, then, and turned around, seeing Guy Manuel-Mota face-to-face, staring him down with a somewhat even expression.
“Hey, c’mon, I’m not that scary, am I?” Guy joked, rubbing his arms and making a point of showing off his bracelet, then gesturing at it, and at the stage, and saying, “anyway, my name’s Guy Manuel-Mota. You probably already realize this, Agnes, but… You’re already in a trap here. Both of us are stuck, even.”
“Heheh, what, are you trying to warn me or something? Well, I don’t need an alliance with you… So fuck off.”
“I wasn’t asking for one.” Guy corrected, then, adding, “you know how Tigran Sins works… The only way we’re getting out of this is through each other.”
“My fucking thoughts exactly,” Agnes answered, “and exactly what I came here for… A chance to pound that gold-wearing fuck’s face in. I hear he really hates that shit, so I’ll make it permanent.
Guy’s casual demeanor, then, turned into a stiff, serious face, hands at the blades on his person. “You won’t last that long.”
“Oh, you’re fucking on, you-” “Alright, Los Fortuna! Give it up for exactly what you came here for!” An announcer’s voice cheered on, then, ringing through the arena almost deafeningly loud, followed by a cascade of rising cheers.
The noise distracted Agnes, and Guy made his getaway.
“Back again at the Alexander Dickinson…”
Shit… So many people here, not even paying attention. Where did he go?
“Unbreakable, unshakeable, here to give the show of her life again as she always does… TD/MD!”
Metra strutted out onto the stage, then, to the cheers of the crowd, but Agnes noticed that she seemed to be frequently looking up towards the sky, or towards the various short-circuit cameras wired to display her on the jumbotrons. The crowd seemed too vapid, too fandom-consumed to notice, but there was apprehension in her every step in that casual yet elegant performing costume of hers.
“It means so much to me to see you all out here… Really, I appreciate every single one of you, even if I don’t know you! Just the fact that you came here…” She was trying not to sound guilty as hell there, for what she and all of them had fallen into. Agnes wasn’t sure whether to feel bad, to get mad at Tigran Sins for pulling one over on them again, or to laugh.
“So! I’m just going to start with a classic, alright? Keep the emergency exits in mind, but more than that, get ready, because what’s coming is something hard to describe! Let’s make it a night worth remembering!”
Guy continued to grasp his swords, keeping close to the crowd, close to the stage.
Cruel what you’re doing, Mr. Sins… And you didn’t tell me I’d be fighting the guy who ripped the Ocean Soul’s arm off. I’d better get a hell of a bonus for this.
OPEN THE GAME!
Location: The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, in the Entertainment District (specifically, a perfect replica of its crowd area). The area for the match here is 50 by 60 meters, with each tile being 5 by 5 meters. Agnes starts at the middle left and Guy starts in the middle right as represented by their respectively colored team tokens.
The stage is at the top as represented by the grey semi-circle. The audience members are represented by the red circles and the venue is sectioned off as a concert generally would be. Each seating section is represented by the blue, green, and yellow transparencies. These areas are roped off to keep them separate.
The dotted semi-circular line is a row of metal security fences to keep people from getting too close to the stage.
Goal: RETIRE your opponent!
Additional Information:
The audience members all have flat two physicals, and are mostly paying attention to the ongoing concert, eager and excited fans that they are. Metra Doria is performing onstage with a backing band, and it’s quite loud, yet somehow (the noise-altering effect of her Stand, maybe?) you aren’t debilitated by it. The audience members won’t deliberately cooperate with you in any meaningful way, and don’t particularly care about one another either, but will try to avoid getting hurt if they can see it coming.
Due to brazen threats on the guests by Tigran and the rest, none of Metra’s crew will interfere in the match, and are basically as good as non-entities mechanically, but it goes without saying that harming them or outright ruining the performance will lead to Fox canonically and successfully killing you with a giant rock. So don’t go on the stage itself.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
BADD GUYS	Ananas “Agnes” Bayley	“Faceless gazes passing by with me / The void in my heart changed with the path I chose” You find these ED guys absolutely loathsome, but the idea of completely stealing Metra’s thunder is nonetheless appealing to your villainous heart. Act as cool as possible in your own way!
Suburban Regalia	Guy Manuel-Mota	“There's no limit to each new encounter - everything so ordinarily bizarre” These people want their shows to be impressive, right? Well, may as well get that check… Act as cool as possible in your own way!

Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!

Some words from u/eruwenn and I. Enjoy?
First / Prev / Next

 

  Chae’Sol stood at the centre of a large command deck, meticulously peeling the protective film from his new captain’s chair. The sensation of the slow but steady yielding of the film, the sweeping line following the contours of the seat in flowing curves; it was incredibly satisfying. Finally, with one last gentle pull, the last of his chair was uncovered and he stood back to admire his throne. Aside from the freshness of the seating itself, there were shiny new holo displays, touch sensors, and comms relays that were within easy reach of his seated fingertips. This ship would be the jewel in any fleet, a prototype Dreadnought made by the infamous Bardul of Shi’an. The Gowe Military faction had run into financial problems, and it had been left unpaid and unclaimed. What sorcery Kadir had used to find it, and purchase it, he did not know.
His comms unit beeped and Danyd’s voice came through. “Chae’S-” -He grumbled incoherently- “Captain, we’re ready to get underway.”
The Niham turned and sat back on his pristine chair, swinging his long legs over the armrest. “That was quick, Chief Engineer Ef’Yto”
Danyd grunted at the use of his title. “Aye, these Awakened are efficient bastards.” The Satryn looked around at the enormous engineering bay. The entirety of the Porkchop Express could comfortably sit inside, and two of them could likely squeeze in. “Plus, this thing has never been used; feels weird not having anything to work on. It’s state of the art, and I’m having to read the manuals on half the new systems.”
Chae’Sol laughed, looking around at the Awakened as they were preparing their workstations. “Yeah, this command deck is a little intimidating. Even the Niham Armada didn’t have ships like this. There are fifteen weapons stations here, what in Tulseria’s name were the Gowe planning to do with this thing?”
“No idea.” The chief engineer walked to the large seat in front of his new work terminal, and hopped up onto it. The protective covering squeaked. “This thing has more firepower than half their fleet, it must have been something big. We’re lucky Kadir found out about the graveyard of unclaimed ships from one of his contacts.”
The newly-minted captain swung his legs down and sat up, straightening his black uniform and white collar. “That’s another thing: how does he have so many contacts? I was in the Tulseria-damned military, and I had no idea they would sell us fighters and weapons.”
“I know the feeling.” Danyd watched a junior engineer – Lily, an Awakened who wore a headband in her silver hair that sported long Kittran ears on it – begin running diagnostics on the Hoban Field Generator. “I'm aware he got the automated weapons for the system port from my people, somehow. As for how he accomplishes all he does, I think his time working with that fancy Anatidae councillor opened more than a couple of doors for him.”
Chae’Sol stood, running his fingers through his perfect hair. “Doors, windows, rear entrances and damned secret portals, all leading to a dark realm of shady deals and supplies. We have an Imperium Capital Ship for Tulseria’s sake! Nobody knows where he got it, or where he’s now hidden it.” He looked at his holo display, noting the specks springing blinking into existence as the other ships of Federation origin came to life. “Let’s just be glad he’s on our side.”
The chief engineer tugged at the green collar to his uniform. “Our side used to be a damn sight smaller.” Lily had finished her diagnostic tests and sent the results to his console. Her report included an adjustment that would create a potential three percent increase in crystal efficiency, and a small drawing of a smiling leokit with a crim-bar. He groaned, then reported back with, “We’re ready to go when you are.”
The Niham strode confidently across the command deck, stopping to stand in front of the huge vid screen at the front of the room. All around him were his crew, made up mostly from the Ashi, Awakened, and Kasurians. “Let’s get this show started.”
 
 
Jaym sat with a bowl of Tony the leokas cereal in front of her. It wasn't just a catchy advertising slogan - it really was great. She and Elizabeth had worked together so much in the engineering section of the Porkchop Express that they had become close, often spending their free time together. Indeed, Elizabeth currently sat opposite her, carefully rebuilding a power coupling and occasionally tapping at her datapad. Shortly after the results of her most recent tap played out, Elizabeth paused her work on the power coupling. Without speaking, she held up her datapad so that Jaym could see.
On the screen was Tony and his mate Jolie, and Skeena’s voice could be heard excitedly talking about collecting urine samples from the female. Jaym screwed up her face at first until Skeena announced the pregnancy test was positive. Tony was going to be a father! She couldn't contain her joy and screamed loudly, grabbing the screen and running all the way to the bridge to show the others.
Ranjaz was stretched out across the captain’s chair as Jaym burst in, and didn’t open his eyes until she began shaking his leg. Even then he didn’t pay much attention. “I told you not to let Elizabeth play with any more systems till after the mission.”
She blushed slightly, as their last improvement had inverted their water treatment system and blown six power couplings. "It's not that!" she said, holding up the datapad and starting the video. "Look!"
At the first syllable of Skeena's voice, Ranjaz sat bolt upright. The video held his full attention, and when Tony's impending fatherhood was announced the Kittran's whoops of delight could be heard all through the Porkchop Express. He reached underneath his seat and retrieved a small, fluffy bed, then picked up Aiov. Ranjaz led his unusual dance partner in a quick spin of joy before replaying the GalacTube video for her. “You’re going to be an Aunty!”
Eruwenn leaned back in the large seat that had once been Embar’s. “I didn’t think they were related?”
The Kittran nodded. “Aiov is Tony’s sister. Aaron adopted them both, and that’s how human families work. They just keep adding members, like a Dular adding shells to its burrow. Family is family.”
Cygna pressed a few buttons on her Navigator terminal, moving the video to the main screen as well as starting it over. “I still can’t believe you keep one of these under your seat. I mean, it’s a leokas!”
Ranjaz held Aiov up and they briefly rubbed noses. “Just a little one!”
The Anatidae laughed. “I can see living with the human has had quite a profound effect on you.”
With one of his trademark grins he held Aiov out towards Eruwenn. “Wanna nose rub?”
"Ah," the councillor said, shrinking back from the offer, "despite her size she is still a predator, and I am not quite ready for such a close encounter.”
From the pilot seat Ripley stood, taking Aiov from Ranjaz. “She is not a toy.” She briefly snuggled the tiny leokit to her chest, then passed her to Jaym. “Take her for food and exercise; she must grow up strong.”
Jaym also cuddled the wriggling Aiov close, and not just because the little leokit was adorable. Aiov had tripled in size, and was becoming a bit of a handful. “Thor was preparing her food; I’ll take her down to him.”
Once the junior engineer had left, and Ripley returned to the pilot seat, Ranjaz began tapping on the console in front of him. “Looks like we’ll be free to take the shuttle down to the surface with the next group.”
Cygna drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “I didn’t realise it would be so busy.”
Ranjaz shrugged. “There was a quake on the fourth planet, so mining colonies are shut down while the nerds poke around. Along with that, we got three big freighters waiting for resupply. That’s a lot of bored folks looking to kill time.” Ripley grunted, prompting a chuckle from the Kittran. “You don’t approve of their choice of leisure activity?”
After their few cycles together Eruwenn was already learning a lot about her shipmates. Ripley, for instance, wasn’t one for talking. She decided to interject before the Captain irritated her too much, as they would need her focus soon enough. “Gambling and pleasure palaces are not to everyone's taste, of course, but these sorts of things are covered under local governance.”
Without skipping a beat Ranjaz replied, “I know that’s the official line, but you sure as shit have tax codes for all of it. If you want to look down on folks, don’t pretend you aren’t profiting from it.”
Cygna, ever defensive of her mentor, jumped in. “That’s a bold statement for someone who never paid a credit in tax until it was automatically deducted from his Galactic Federation pay.”
Ranjaz laughed, then continued, keeping his voice care-free. “Taxed on what? I never owned anything.”
Eruwenn could see the trap her junior was walking into but decided to let this be a learning experience. The Kittran was wily, and the Anatidae found him entertaining. Cygna, as she had predicted, scoffed at his claims. “I’ve read your file. When you were arrested you had a ship, five shuttles and thousands in valuable goods confiscated.”
“Exactly!” His eyes lit up as he cornered her. “It was confiscated because it was stolen, so I didn’t own it. Imagine a world where you can keep stolen goods if you pay tax on them. Even I think that’s crazy.”
The Fae’Dan paused, and the anger evaporated from her voice as she realized what he had said, replaced by a slightly impressed tone of surprise. “Well, maybe, but… Really? You stole all of it?”
Ranjaz shrugged. “Or won it. I’m pretty good at Dalcho.”
Cygna perked up. “I play Dalcho myself, we shou-”
“No,” Eruwenn interrupted. Some lessons were too expensive. “Do not play Dalcho with someone who can get free priority entry permits to a casino.”
The former operative shook her head. “I’m a great player, you’ve seen me in the council chambers. I took that Ley’Rulian trader for five hundred credits.”
The Anatidae smiled kindly. “And he had five shuttles when he was arrested.”
Cygna slowly turned from Eruwenn to Ranjaz, noticing his grin and the sparkle in his eye. It was most definitely the smile of a predator. He gave a little chuckle. “Don’t worry, it’s been a long time since I played. No gambling on Galactic Federation ships, you know.” He laughed again. “Oh wait, you read my file.”
The Fae’Dan nodded. “Perhaps we should focus on the mission.” She gave a slight bow to Eruwenn before returning her attention to her console.
Ranjaz looked at Eruwenn and stuck out his tongue. “Don’t ruin my fun!”
The Ambassador smiled. “I don’t play Dalcho, but there is a human game called chess I quite enjoy. Perhaps we could play sometime?”
The Kittran gave a nod. Keeping his voice neutral, he replied. “I don’t know that one, but there’s another human game we could try. Poker?”
"We have permission to dock at the holding ring and send down a shuttle," Ripley abruptly called out. "Let’s get this whatever it is and make the rendez-vous.”
Both of Ranjaz’s fangs showed as he grinned. “If we’re going to pull a job on Chisola Prime, first you’re going to need to look the part!”
 
 
Aaron walked down the corridor of the Hive ship, the strange spiderlike creature trailing behind him as he followed one of the corpse vines as it receded deeper into the ship. He turned and watched the creature, which shrank back from him and crouched low to the ground. “I’m sorry I kicked you. You simply startled me; you don’t have to hide.”
The lighting never changed in the endless corridors of the ship, and only the most uninteresting of doors deigned open for him. At this point, he had lost track of time completely. Through perseverance he’d made several important discoveries. The bulbous shapes in the flower vase room were seats; he was fairly certain of that after finding another room with bodies sitting in them. The vines that came for them were the ones he was now following, and by now he must have seen hundreds of dead Hive.
The second discovery was that the Hive came in a variety of shapes and sizes. There were two main ones, as far as he could tell, and the first were the four legged kind that had so kindly thrown him in the rejuvenating jelly bean. The second was bipedal, and looked a hell of a lot meaner. While the ones he deemed workers looked somewhat like ants to him, in shades of reds and browns, the second type looked much more commanding. Their carapace had thicker layers of armour in green, gold and red, and was spiked at the shoulders and joints. Even their legs had spines and to top the look off their heads were much more angular. Whether they were soldiers, commanders, or something else, he didn’t know. Through observation of the corpses he had discovered the most confusing feature yet: a strange section in the centre of their abdomen that was filled with what seemed to be a grey fluid.
Ahead of him, not skittering away like the rest, was an aphid that no longer emitted a pale green glow. Something whooshed overhead towards the slow and sluggish aphid, and Aaron instinctively threw himself to the ground before he realized what it was. "That's how you get kicked!” He stood up, brushing himself off. “Fuck, that scares the ever-loving shit out of me every fucking time.”
The huge creature looked up at him and whined as it munched on the sick aphid. He was probably imagining the apology in its eyes, but Aaron still shook his head. “I know, I know. It’s your job. They clean the floors, you keep their population healthy. Just stop leaping over me like that, fuck. I’m going to have a heart attack.” It whined and backed away from his angry words, and he tried to keep his voice to calmer tones. “Don’t be like that. I’ve told you enough times.”
When he looked down the corridor again, the retreating corpse vines had disappeared around a corner. Aaron began to jog after them, and after he'd put some distance in he heard the pattering footsteps of his terrifying shadow. He tried to pay it no mind. Once the vines were back in sight he slowed and followed behind them, singing his direction song quietly to himself. “Left, right, straight. Left, left, right. Straight, straight, left, left. Right, right, straight, right, right.”
The ship was massive and, other than some areas smelling funkier than others, there was no variation in lighting, decoration or layout. The song was his map back to the rejuvenation pod, which was his only safe source of hydration. His companion padded along behind him, a friendly nightmare to accompany him on his seemingly endless journey. “We really need to give you a name.” He wished he had his phone with him so he could channel all his nervous energy into making a video. “The audience demands a name. Plus, I won’t be able to sell merch without one.” He turned and looked at the creature. “I’ll probably have to create space-halloween first, or maybe I’ll get lucky and find that you’re cute to some species.”
Aaron returned to following the corpse vine, waving a hand high as he spoke, gesticulating to the heavens. “The name is what matters: a good name makes all the difference.” He began seriously pondering the naming matter. “Aragog, Shelob; you know, lean into your size for a characterization. But then again, that's not really going to make people like you.” He looked back over his shoulder as the unnamed beast trotted happily behind him. He assumed happy, at least. It now tended to make an odd gurgling noise after eating, and it roamed closer to him than before. “You know, I never got to name Sassie – she’s my dog. I told you about her yesterday, or the day before.” He really was losing track of the days he’d been here. “I got her from a rescue. She was skinny, and so damn angry, with scars on her legs and under her fur. I had to have special visits before I could keep her. Prove I was worthy.”
Talking helped take his mind from the gnawing emptiness in his stomach. Hydration and nutrients osmotically obtained from some weird pod were nowhere near as satisfying as a burger and a cold beer. “Her first visit, she had a rubber ball. It was her only possession, and she loved it.” There was a touch of pride in his voice. “Took me an hour before she gave it up to play. The lady from the rescue centre said I was the first.” He choked up, blinking back tears. “Anyway, couple more visits and she got to stay. Crazy dog was such a handful. She once tried to climb a tree to chase a squirrel. Got her legs over the first branch and just dangled, kicking her back legs.” He began chuckling to himself. “She once tried to jump through a car window; some guy was parked at the lights as we walked past.”
He was just chatting now, lost in his memories as he walked. “You know the type, loud radio, windows rolled down on a sunny day, annoying the shit out of everyone in the town. He tossed some litter out of his window and she just launched herself at him. Scared the life out of me at the time - funny as fuck now, of course.” He laughed again. “Then there were the swans. Man, were they not ready. She loved to swim – I told you that before – swimming and splashing was her favourite release. Well, that and chasing rabbits which is, kinda, how I ended up here. Anyway, she would just swim up and down, right past the ducks and stuff, somehow never interested in them. Then one summer these swans came along...” He paused, realising his new friend didn’t know what a duck or a swan was, or even summer, probably. Before attempting to explain, he realised they also didn’t understand english, so it really didn’t matter. “Anyway, swans being belligerent bastards, I called her out of the water straight away. Those mean white fuckers chased her all the way to shore.”
He turned around, now grinning broadly. “But, once her feet hit the ground in the shallow water and she was able to stand, did those sons of bitches turn and swim away as fast as they could.” He paused, trying to remember his original point. He really was very hungry. “Oh yeah, so trying to stop her fighting everything that moved meant I didn’t have time to teach her a new name. Figured it would be confusing to her. Sassie she was, and so Sassie she stayed.”
There was a tightening in his chest as he thought of her missing him. “Took a lot of years and a lot of time for her to get where she is now. I know Alexa will take care of her, but still, it’s my job, and I need to get back to doing it. She won’t understand…” He choked up completely, taking a moment to compose himself before clearing his throat and returning his monologue to its original course. “Anyway, names. Names matter.”
“Maybe you’re a girl monster. Charlotte?” He shook his head. That name just didn’t seem fitting. “We could call you Peter Parker? Although, you’re more of a man-sized spider than a spiderman... Parker Peter? Then again, big, scary spiders say one thing to me. Australia. You like to jump, we could call you Roo? Or, how about Ozzy? Or Bruce? Hmm, that’s a sharks name though… can you swim?”
His train of thought derailed suddenly as he saw an open door ahead of them through which the vines were receding. The pair of them continued walking behind the vine until it disappeared into the doorway and Aaron ran forward, pulling something from his pocket. He’d been saving the foil wrapping from the ration bricks, folding them together to form a wedge. He jammed his makeshift door stop under the bottom corner of the door as it began to slide shut. It ground to a halt. “Boom! Told you it would work.”
He stood and finally looked into the vastness beyond. Through the doors was, somehow, a rolling meadow, complete with trees, giant mushrooms and plants he had no name for. Vines were also everywhere, receding further across the great wilderness. “What the hell? I thought I was on a spaceship? Am I underground?”
Staring intently at the sky, he stepped onto the deep moss beyond the door. He looked at the wall around the interior and saw it was rock, and more plant life clung to every crack and crevice. As he walked slowly forward his eyes followed the vine as it headed for a large, colourful, monolith. He approached and saw that its shape was similar to the vase flowers. He watched as the corpse vines deposited their cargo on top of the monolith. Not on, he corrected himself;they were dropping inside.
He looked back to the door, nervous that it might close and lock him in. A large black shadow lurked just beyond the door, and he was torn. Should he explore this 'outside' world, or retreat to the place where he at least had the rejuvenation pods? He looked up at the sky, basking in the warm and invigorating embrace of the sunlight. He blinked at the brightness, being cautious to not look at the sun directly, and something else suddenly caught his eye. It was, incredibly, a door. A door that floated in the sky.
The thing about human eyes is that they might be easily fooled, but a shift in perspective can easily change what you see to something entirely different. Aaron was looking up at a ceiling, like the one in the Atrium back on the Azrimad, but a hundred times more convincing.
Once back inside the doorway he watched the spiderling he was beginning to think of it as a friend dancing back and forth a short distance away. It seemed… happy. “Ok buddy, I’m back.” Aaron’s stomach made a loud gurgling sound and he rubbed it, trying to squeeze the hunger away. Fingers found muscle easier than usual, and he knew he was definitely losing weight. “We should head back. I need sleep.” He thought for a moment and made a final decision, bending down to pull the foil wedge clear. “I doubt there’s a communicator or command deck in there. Let’s go home, Ozzy.”
The trip back was uneventful, Aaron sang his direction song as they navigated the labyrinth. A few more aphids were snacked on by his leggy companion, but his own legs were heavy by the time he was almost back to the jelly beans. Despite being exhausted he had made two stops to create another pair of flower vases for the aphids, as well as scattering a ration brick as he passed by. The aphids waited, as they always did, till he and Ozzy were far enough away before enjoying his bounty. Still, the human derived satisfaction from their presence.
Exhausted and weary, Aaron was glad to finally make it back to the room he was reluctantly calling his temporary home. As the door to the rejuvenation pod slid open he was met, forcefully, by the barrel of an energy rifle. Unfortunately for Aaron, due to a considerable height difference, the barrel had struck him squarely in the groin, and he instantly fell to his knees. He came face to face with his attacker with tears in his eyes, clutching his tenderness and coughing. From the other being came incomprehensible yelling, as well as a lot of gun waving. Also, there was coughing.
Aaron, eventually mustering enough self-presence to do something other than deal with the after effects of the gun-to-groin encounter, wiped the moisture from his eyes and tried to butt in to the one-sided conversation. "Relax! I'm the one who just got snookered in the fucking balls, here! Why in the world are you so mad?"”
The gun was pressed to his forehead by the tiny attacker, who shouted something unintelligible with their black eyes focused on him. They paused to cough, then stepped back, glaring at Aaron until they seemed to feel comfortable enough with the situation to take one hand off of their weapon and pull out a datapad. They held it up, and Aaron frowned at the familiar but still unintelligible colours that swirled on the screen. Then a small vent at the bottom of the device squirted out a puff of sickly sweet scent.
Aaron pulled back from the odour. "What the fuck was that?"
With some distance between them, the human finally got a good look at his opponent. They were barely waist-height, furry, with a long nose and dark banding across their brown fur. The banding was heaviest across their eyes and although that’s where the similarities ended, it was enough for the human’s brain to forge a connection. “Listen, Rocket, there’s a virus on this ship. You need to get in the jelly bean. Trust me.”
The rifle was thrust at him shakily in one hand, the tablet again was raised and a swirl of colours and shapes greeted him. “I don’t speak fucking winamp plugin!” On the wall behind his captor Aaron spotted a dull orange aphid, struggling to climb the wall. He smiled as he slowly leaned to one side. “Have you met Ozzy?”
The huge arachnid leapt over them both, causing the newcomer to blindfire at the wall. Aaron seized his chance and snatched away the weapon. He grabbed the newcomer by the front of their armoured uniform and slammed them to the ground. They cried out in pain and began their incomprehensible yelling once more. The accompanying coughing fit was bad, and Aaron dragged them to their feet. Realising that his solitude had caused him to revert to English, he switched back to galactic standard to offer a warning about the disease. “You’re going to die!”
A shocked look crossed their face as the human effortlessly lifted them and slam dunked them into a blue jelly bean. Ozzy gurgled happily through his aphid crunching. Aaron snatched up the energy rifle, but found it was difficult to hold due to its small size. He leaned over the jelly bean, noting the occupant drifting off to sleep.
Hunger and tiredness were forgotten as adrenaline flooded his system. There was no way the newcomer was alone. He left the pod room to begin searching, and Ozzy seemed to pick up on his intention and followed behind, keeping close to the human. “Good boy!” He had no idea what prompted it, likely some automated response, and it was as though he watched his movements from outside of his body as he reached back and gently scratched the arachnid's head. He was rewarded with happy gurgles, or at least that's what he hoped the noises were. “You did good back there.”
He made his way along the corridor towards the same airlock he had once chosen as his final exit. His recent suspicion proved correct as he heard a strange sound up ahead, as if someone was running a wet finger around the rim of a glass. He carefully leaned around the curve and saw another figure, dressed in the same uniform as the first. No fur on this one, although they were equally small in size, and they somehow looked like they were made of glass which couldn’t decide on a colour.
This time he remembered to use galactic standard. “Keep your hands where we can see you. We’ve got you surrounded!” The figure was clearly startled, as the ambient resonating noise began varying wildly in pitch at the same moment as their colour shifted to a solid blue. Aaron cursed. He didn’t have a translator, having instead opted for learning standard and winging everything else. The whole federation knew standard, so he hadn’t truly considered getting the implant. “Something is wrong with our translators,” he continued to bluff. “Do you speak galactic standard?”
A datapad was hastily pulled from a pocket, and as buttons were pressed the resonating sound became more rhythmic. From the datapad sprung noises. No, it was a voice! “Why do you speak Procyon? Where is Commander Bertolannixostraphes?
Aaron began relaxing at the situation he found himself in, but inside he was brimming with joy. Finally, he could talk with someone! “There is a virus on this ship, and many are dead. If your commander is the raccoon-looking guy, I got them into a healing pod. They’re going to be fine.” Under his breath he added, “probably.”
The resonating began and shortly afterwards the voice translated, “Who are you? Why did you not answer our communications.”
Opting for honesty in the hopes of leniency, Aaron stepped into view. “I’m a passenger. I don’t have access to the ship's systems.” The newcomer was looking at the tiny gun, so the human tossed it forward. “I didn’t know if you were friendly. I can take you to your friend, and you should probably get treatment as well.”
The now-orange alien walked forward, their movement accompanied by the strange sound of ceramic plates rubbing together. “That won’t be a problem, we Tricinic do not catch meat diseases. I am Tsy'lo, take me to the commander.” They turned to look behind them. “Where are the others?”
Aaron pointed to Ozzy. “It’s just us two.”
Colours swirled and the small glass person thrummed. The datapad spoke, “You are the last human, the Ambassador. Correct?”
Turning and gesturing to be followed, he began to lead the way to the rejuvenation room. “I am the first human, Ambassador Aaron Cooper, professional bounty hunter. Just call me Aaron. Are you the rescue party? Is Alexa here? Did she bring Sassie?”
It took a moment for the translation to come back. “I don’t know those names. We are the Special Tactics and Rescue Squad and we responded to distress calls and found this ship. Adrift.” They had walked a little way when Tsy'lo stopped and regarded Ozzy, who was still faithfully following behind. “Why does the achalo follow you?”
“Ozzy?” Aaron shrugged. “I think he was lonely. So, were you sent into Hive space to find me, or are you on some top secret mission? You aren’t with the Sentinels, are you?”
“Lonely? But it is an achalo.” Tsy'lo was confused and their colour visibly swirled. “Why would a rescue mission be secret? And, we weren’t sent, we were already here.”
Now it was the human who was confused. “Like spies behind enemy lines? Is that why you are in Hive space?”
The Tricinic hummed at a higher frequency. “It is our space. We are the Hive!”
 
 
Admiral Pelar of the third fleet stood in the centre of the training mat. On the floor around her were four tough looking Ashi, while a fifth was now squaring off against her. She blocked the jab and the surprise knee strike that followed, turning effortlessly to bring her elbow to her opponents ribs. With another deft turn she was behind him and kicking his knees forward. He tried to roll clear but she had anticipated the move and, as he rose, her spinning boot struck the side of his head.
“Nice try gentlemen.” She walked away and caught a towel thrown by the drill instructor. “That last one has potential,” she said, and the drill instructor nodded. “Next time, I expect at least one of them to land a hit. If not, I’ll have you in the ring instead, to make sure you still have what it takes.” She saw the fear in his eyes. “I accept nothing but the best from the Third Fleet.”
The medics ran onto the mat as she dabbed at her forehead, and she spotted Jar’Bek sitting on a bench nearby. She walked over to him and he stood, straightening what was no doubt an extremely expensive suit. “From one disappointment to another.”
The lawyer smiled. “Imagine only seeing your son when he is paid to be in your presence,” he countered.
She smirked. “Your tongue is still your most deadly weapon.”
He nodded. “Ah, but it must make you proud to see me make use of the things you taught me.”
Her face twitched. “I taught you to be a true Ashi, a soldier. I taught you to respect-”
Jar’Bek held up his hand. “I’m here on my client’s business, not yours. And, as I am paid a considerable sum per gal, let us not waste their money on matters that are concluded.” He enjoyed the irritation on her face. “I am here to finalise the amnesty treaties, and conclude your membership as citizens of Earth.”
The Admiral held up her hands, looking down at her combat training clothing. “I must shower and change first. Please, wait for me in my private office.” She smiled politely.
“No.” His smile seemed to hover as if it was a mask that could slip at any time. “You may have disowned me, but I still remember your tricks. You knew the time of our meeting; you had me brought here so you could intimidate me with this display of aggression. Then you ask me to wait in your office amongst your memorabilia and trophies.” He watched the anger behind her eyes. “You really think these tired old tricks will work on me?”
She sneered. “At least you remember something.”
“Oh, I had the scars removed, but I kept the lessons.” He walked away. “My client's time is valuable and I have scheduled a meeting with the other fleet Admiral’s for later this cycle. Since we have no time for your games, let us go to the briefing room. My team is already set up. If you wish to shower, know that it is more of your negotiating time you are wasting, and I do so hate waste.” He collected his briefcase and walked out of the room.
Captain Loring hurried after Jar’Bek, catching him as he entered the elevator. “You sure you want to antagonise the Admiral like that?”
He leaned back against the wall of the elevator and relaxed, letting out a small sigh. “A little negotiating trick a Kittran taught me. Anyway, she is no longer my Admiral.”
Elora’Tan leaned back on the opposite wall. “She is your mother, Jar.”
“Ha.” Jar’Bek laughed. “She disowned me. This is the first contact we’ve had in I forget how many celes. Her first thought is to try and intimidate me with that display. She likes to beat on cadets, she likes to cause pain, and she wanted me to watch.”
Loring gave a weak smile. “It forges strong soldiers. We can’t afford weakness.”
The elevator stopped and Jar’Bek took a step closer to Elora’Tan. “You think it was weakness that made me leave?” He didn’t let her answer, turning and exiting into the hallway. His voice now resonated with authority as he growled, “In case you people have forgotten, the Ashi will operate under the same rules as the rest of the colony. My mother is not the law... I am the law.”
 
Next

The party has come into a busy port and decide to visit some other ships. Who might they discover, what might they find?

d100 Interesting Ships in a Port

​

1. Shani and Aurora's Tent of Two - The two goblin sisters Shani and Aurora sail providing services to port settlements. Shani claims to be a seer and charges 60gp for a "reading" of the future (she is not). Aurora 'The useful one' provides the service of casting identify for 20gp. She may also agree to sell some of her extensive library if offered the right price. [dweeb_bush]
2. The Bones Brothers - The bones brothers are a travelling group of jolly bards. As their name suggests they are animated skeletons. Jimbo-double bass, Timbo-guitar, Limbo-vocals, Dimbo-marimba and Franky-drums. They are very hospitable and put on a show for anyone who comes and visits them! [dweeb_bush]
3. The Lovers - A small nondescript boat lies just off the dock. The is no sign of activity on board apart from the dock inspector who is trying to find out who's boat it is. The truth is the owners of the boat died ten days ago and the boat has miraculously drifted safely into port. on a successful DC 10 investigation or perception check the party members discover two young male elves cowering in the cannonball chest. When the lid is lifted they start begging for their life. If pressed they reveal that the crew was attacked by sirens, the majority of the crew succomed to the siren's calls however the two young boys, deeply infatuated with each other did not care for their temptation. They ran out of food last night and thought they were surely doomed! [dweeb_bush]
4. The Crows - A large black boat rests in port, neatly secured off one of the more expensive jettys. The most defining feature of the boat is that it is bustling with activity, not by humanoids but 3d12 black ravens. One wears a small captains hat and appears to undersatnd the party. If the party casts speak with animals they discover that the crows were awakened through a series of trials on a new spell aimed to mass awaken a group of creatures. The crows have varying degrees of intelligence and are all chaotic neutral alligned. The crows rebelled from, Hignory Flip, the wizard running the trials on a small island about 2 days sail from the port, and stole his ship. [dweeb_bush]
5. Captain Redbeak! - A suspicious longship hovers low on the water. There is a steady stream of humanoids entering the covered boat and leaving a few minutes later with a small package. The ship belongs to Captain Redbeak, a feirce pirate captain who runs a drug trade: the drug in question is a relatively cheap drug called "Peak Water" and is collected dew from mountaintops, it gives the user a high that lasts 1d4 hours and gives the user a d4 of bardic inspiration. It costs 10gp per hit. The ship is manned by 2d6 Bandits, and if threatened or reported they will attempt to kill the party in defence of their lives. [dweeb_bush]
6. Crazy Mr McGee - A delerious man stands warding off the dock guards with what looks like a loaded blunderbus. He's yelling about his notorious reputation as a savage pirate and keeps claiming they have come to "Take away my princess". The princess he's referring to is his boat- he imagines that it is a glourious gallion but in reality it's just a rowboat. If the party manage to subdue the man the dock guards thank them and offer to buy them a drink later that night in the tavern. [dweeb_bush]
7. A Con??? - The players are drawn to a commotion hidden behind a crowd of people. A large goliath (Manneo) seems to have taken a small dwarf (Skalgrouth) hostage and is threatening to slit his throat if the dock guard do not meet his demands "I'll bloody well kill 'im if you don't give me what I want: 100gp worth of rubies and free passage out of this shit hole!". In reality the goliath and dwarf are working together pulling off this stunt at various ports in the area, so far, to great success! [dweeb_bush]
8. The Rat's Den - The players follow a stream of rats on board a decrepid looking riverfairing vessel. When they make cross into the canvassed interior they see an old kobold playing the pipes, he seems to be a rat-catcher. If the party interrupt him in his ritual he turns the a swarm of rats against the party and runs off into the port. [dweeb_bush]
9. Seeking Refuge - A smallish sloop titled 'The Diamond Endeavour' pulls into port, it's sinking and fast! A crew member (Emery Green) jumps onto the dockside and is yelling for help. The vessel was struck by a great storm while at sea and they sustained damage when they brushed by a reef. Luckily they werent wrecked but unluckily they could not repair all the damage with materials on board. They've been bailing for hours and can no longer bail as fast as the ship is filling up with water! If the characters wish to help they can make a DC 13 group athletics check to bail enough water to stop the crew from having to jump ship and leave it to sink. If the players are successful Emery thanks them profusely and offers them a map to a shipwreck they were on the way to dive at before the storm hit them. "It's rumoured that this is the wreck of the old pirate lord, Feather Toothed Bill's ship and may hold riches beyond imagine!" [dweeb_bush]
10. The Gilded Sail - A group of merchants, all of various races, each offering unique, and expensive, magical trinkets. True to their name, their sail is actually a thin sheet of gold, and the rest of their ship is covered in valuable metals and gems. It’s also very well armed, as are the merchants aboard. Keep an eye on the rogue when this one’s around. [Dragon_Overlord]
11. The Patchwork - A large ship which seems to have been destroyed and repaired numerous times with whatever material the crew had, from birch wood to copper metal to even welded armor and weapons. Speaking of the crew, they appear to be a mishmash of Kenku, Kobold, Halfling, and the occasional Tabaxi and Goblin. The captain appears to be a raccoon by the name of Majos, which, if your party stumbles upon the question of why and how a raccoon is a ship captain, she would respond with “a salty mage who didn’t know how to win a simple game of cards had a tantrum.” She would then offer the party a game of cards in which if the party beats Majos, she rewards the party a hefty sum of 100 GP, and if any party member is any of the races listed above, she rewards an additional magic item (DM’s choice) and offers a position to the party member for them to join her crew. Accept and the party is taken to an additional encounter to an island for treasure. Decline is acceptable and Majos would accept any favor from the party. [SpyroAndToothless]
12. The Feyr Winds - An elegant ship that carries goods and treasures from far off Elven lands run by a mixture of elven and faerie creatures. Their most illustrious goods are fruits that can do many things such as heal wounds, cure poisons, or even granting stat bonuses for a minute! (Vendor: Fruits are magical and can take on the effect of any potion you want.) [OSpiderBox]
13. Gnasher's Maw - A tribal-ized longship driven by a "merry" band of lizard folk. They obviously don't understand personal space or social norms, and are seeking people to help them with a Giant problem. (Hook: if your party is having downtime while they look for their next quest, this could be that hook they need.) [OSpiderBox]
14. The Esteemed Steamboat - Artificers run this marvel of steam engineering. However... it's currently in a state of disrepair. Looks like heavy damage from some monstrosity. While they're extremely proficient in fixing it, they have no money and are looking for work to pay for supplies. (Allies: party could hire some of them for an upcoming task/adventure, or even offer to fund the repairs in exchange for favopassage.) [OSpiderBox]
15. The Mainstream (You’ll never need a bigger boat!) - A casino cruise ship featuring a large game room, several bars, comfortable rooms, a pool and a hot tub fueled by a continual flame spell. It is captained by a tall, brown scaled lizardfolk woman named Kepesk. The dealers are kenku bards repeating rules and barking (“Step right up, try you’re luck at the Wheel of the Goddess of Fortune!”) There is also a large vault of gold on board, guarded by lizardfolk soldiers. One particular patron is looking for a few helping hands for a bit of a caper now that he knows the guards patrol schedules. [spiff2]
16. Rocinante - A relatively fancy and expensive ship being up kept by the Quijano family and their servants. The last living member of the family is a young man, obsessed with swords and thirst for adventure. He agrees to let the team borrow the ship, in exchange for him coming with them on their adventures to wherever they’re going. [DrFishPhd]
17. Deep Blue - In a corner of the harbour, a seemingly empty ship. Sails are neatly furled, crew seems to have left the ship mere hours ago. On the deck, small openings allows the visitor to enter the hold, in it, some barrels, hammocks. Beside one of the hammock, a book, quite old, written in an old version of Common language.In the middle of the hold, some blankets cover a group of trunks, under these trunks, another opening ... leading to another hold. In this hold, vessels, old fashioned lanterns, and some parchment written in ancient language. At the bottom of a bulkhead, an opening, some stairs gong down in another hold.Wood seems ancient, and strange figures are carved into the wooden parts of the boats. Some ancient runes are covering pillars. In the middle of the hold, a panel with nails made of some unknown metal, once open, stairs going down in the dark. From the shadows, the noise of little splaches. [doctor_providence]
18. The Mosquito - Run by a crew of githyanki pirates. What seems like a normal battle vessel, once on the open ocean, the sails begin turning outward and suddenly the ship begins gliding above the waters surface at fast speeds. [GladiatorJustin]
19. The C.H.U.D.- The Shell of a massive deceased Dragonturtle floats next to the dock, it’s ends sealed by mechanical claws, and a viewport fitted into the front. The C.H.U.D. (Chelonian Hammerworked Underwater Dirigible) was designed by the Gnomish Inventor Hector Copperspark. Crewed by gnomes and halflings as they are the only ones small enough to man the complex machinery crammed into the turtle shell, the C.H.U.D. is a mercenary vessel that hires out to perform naval attacks. Hector just got a lead on a new job, and he needs some muscle to pull it off... [Lakandalwa]
20. The Temple - A ship that serves as a mobile temple to a water deity. It goes from port to port to carry services. [SMGB_NeonYoshi]
21. Cloudscraper - One of the gems of the Romish Empire's formidable fleet, the Cloudscraper is a powerful warship specially constructed for defeating sea monstrosities of all kinds. Developed after the Queen's late husband was killed by an island feeder (colossal sea beasts known for swallowing swaths of land whole), this vessel with an imposing tower-like bridge is loaded up with all types of harpoons, cannons, and magical armor. Some even say that, thanks to a powerful magical engine, the top half of the ship can separate from the brig to chase after flying beasts attempting to get away. With how famous it is, plenty of townsfolk are eager to get a look at the shining bronze beast of a boat. But what's it doing here of all places? [MildlyConcernedGhost]
22. The Wistful Wanderer - A small sloop with a single cabin in the middle of the deck. A skilled observer might note that the sails and rigging as well as the rudder occasional shift to right the ship or tighten and secure themselves more. The cabin is actually permanently enchanted with a Mordenkainen’s Magnificent mansion and the ship is handled by a permanent crew of 20 unseen servants. It is owned by the Wandering Wizard Wesley Wrycroft. He sails the world at his leisure, seeking trade for scrolls and arcane artifacts. He also regularly hires adventurers to gather difficult to reach artifacts from unworthy hands whenever he finds a lead on the location of such a relic. [Lakandalawa]
23. The Magic Brawler - A merchant ship with a very strong looking captain comes to port. If the party chooses to look at their items the captain will challenge the party to an arm wrestling match. Beating a DC 20 strength check will award the party one minor magic item from the captain's personal stash, and beating a DC 25 strength check will award a magic item of the DMs choosing. [TheInstitute4]
24. The Friend Ship - A comfortable looking wooden ship full of people just hanging out on the deck. While aboard this ship you find yourself under the effects of the Charm Person spell to make everyone friendly with each other. [Stormkiko]
25. The Dragon Ship - Captained by a Dragonborn with a dragon head on the prow, this ship is a merchant vessel crewed by a muscular Dragonborn who sits on the deck smoking a long pipe. The ship has put down for repairs after grazing a rock which tore a few holes in the starboard side. [AndreTheSalty]
26. Kender - A rag tag ship filled with swashbuckling Kender. The ship looks like it was made from bits and pieces of many different ships.The Kender are very drunk and have no idea how they got to this port. [Slainlion]
27. The Poor Captain - A ship that looks broken and near sinking, in truth it's one of the most armed ship on the seas. It uses help calls or just their non threatening look to lure ships close so that they can attack them. [DungeonsAndScouts]
28. The Fisticuffs- A medium sized rowdy ship sits a little way out from the dock. The ship has two massive hands stemming from the hulls on long mechanical arms. The hands have an AC of 25, a damage threshold of 5, and 30 health each. They ship can leave the water and "walk" on the hands. The ship is primarily a combat ship and is crewed by a band of mischevious gnome tinkerers. In addition to attacking (+10 to hit: 4d6 + 8 bludgeoning damage) the hands can also cast Bigby's hand once per day. [dweeb_bush]
29. The Grain Barge - A large barge with a dirt floor and wheat growing. A single old man lives on the barge, and sells wheat for 2 pountds per copper piece. In the hull of the barge, accessible only by a trapdoor in the old man's shack, is a large pile of carrots. [serious_tabaxi]
30. Sea Rot - A large gallion speeds into port with a yellow flag raised. As soon as they dock and have paid the docking fee the captain, a large half-orc woman called Mishka, starts calling for help! She reveals that over half of her crew has contracted a strange plague and she fears for her life. She came to port to seek medical assisstance but fears she is infected so dares not go ashore.The plague - Sea Rot - Is highly contagious and air-borne: if a creature comes within 5ft. of an infected creature they must succeed on a DC 17 Constitution save or become infected themself, symptoms take 1d10 days to manifest. The symptoms of Sea Rot are gruesome, starting with the extremities of the body, the body starts depositing water in cytoplasm-like sacks. At the end of every long rest the creature takes 2d6 cold damage and must succeed on a DC 13 Constitution save or suffer 1 permanent constitution damage, the infected creature also has disadvantage on strength and dexterity checks. It can only be cured by magical means that remove a disease.If the party fetches help she rewards them with a small favour and a pouch full of gemstones worth 50gp, in addition, if the party can cure the 20 crew members and contain the plague she offers them passage anywhere, offers an additional 100gp, and her cutlass- a +1 scimmitar that also increases the holder's charisma by 2 while holding it. [dweeb_bush]
31. Grok's Galley - A medium-sized ship piloted by a Tortle named Grok(He Understands Things)11. The ship is a 2 sailed vessel with few cannons and other wartime mechanisms on them. The crew is very resilient and full of ragtag non-humaniods. Gnolls, Dragonborn, Ratfolk etc.He's about to set sail back home as he's heard of this group of ratfolk that are trying to overthrow the government in his home town. [VKilledTInternet]
32. The Abigail - An old warship thought to be lost that had been renovated and turned into an inn. It’s run by two very attractive siblings, who turn out to be sirens and one night, they take the boat out to the sea and eat all the passengers. [TardyTortoise]
33. The Comfort - This massive galleon is an independent freebooter that refuses to pay allegiance to any nation or city. Housing a collection of skilled healers and clerics, the Comfort sails to areas struck by famine, plague, and war, providing healing to whomever requests it. The sailors aboard the vessel have all sworn the same oath, to defend the healers and their patients with their lives no matter the cost.While the Comfort usually is accepted at any port, it sometimes comes under attack when it travels to war torn regions and as such is well equipped to defend itself should it come under attack. [Lakandalawa]
34. Arabian Traders - An exotic merchant vessel filled with silks, spices, and strange spirits is disembarking. A dashing arabian prince asks basic questions about the city, potentially becoming enamored with one of the party members. He is rich and slightly crazy, and believes anything can be bought for a price. This gets him into trouble when he tries to buy someone's hand in marriage to add to his collection of luxuries and many wives back in his home port. [jfractal]
35. Deep Sea Scavengar - Salty, untrustworthy sailors (who look like pirates) are disembarking/unloading from their latest voyage. They have been at sea for months, and haven't seen a woman in that long - they openly hit on and jeer at any females in the group with a CHA score of 11 or higher. One sailor tells a fanciful story about sirens that they encountered on their voyage, killing 3 of their men (it's hard to tell if they are serious or not). [jfractal]
36. His majesty's secret - A heavily outfitted, small warship is in a secret mission from the king. Heavily armed/armored guards stand watch over the docks, turning away everyone, and refusing to divulge their purpose here. [jfractal]
37. Smallminded Yokels - A small, local fishing vessel filled with xenophobic, small-minded fisherman. The make disparaging remarks about any non-humans if approached. If the party gives them lip, they will get jumped by the crew the next time they wander the harbor at night. [jfractal]
38. Mussel's Mate - A large fishing vessel that has seen it's better days. Rigging is in tatters, masts are spliced together, mismatched patchworks sails. Oddly enough the captains quarters are extremely well apportioned not at all like the rest of the ship. [hamlet_d]
39. The Wayward Lady - This ship has an all female crew. The species on board are the outcasts from different lands. They serve as a place for any who are lost to have a home, though men don't tend to stay for long for some reason. After a successful DC 20 insight check it can be found that men on board the ship for 4 months become women. [42firehawk]
40. The Gypsy - On the deck is what appears to be a stage where beautiful female dancers perform to music provided by a small band of bards. One of the dancers, who is known as the Storyteller, tells stories through song as the rest of the dancers provide her the visuals/backup dancing. Her voice is noticeably quite low for a woman, but is very enchanting nonetheless. An insight check with a DC20 will reveal that all of the performers are cross-dressing men. [Crystalized13]
41. The Stable - A ship of decent size that carries horses (or any other kind of mount in your game) from port to port and sells them at a decent price to tired and/or injured travelers. It is crewed by a family of six (mother is the captain, father, three sons, three daughters) and a few extras the gathered along their journey, namely; a nice old man who wants to see the world, a young woman with a fiery attitude and an obvious crush on one of the party members, a muscular Dragonborn who has obviously seen some action who now tends to the horses, a bard who offers entertainment to the crew on board and is particularly liked by the children, a mute Druid who helps the horses and is good friends with the Dragonborn (who interprets their sign), and an ex-pirate who loves the sea but wishes to leave their past behind them. [Crystalized13]
42. The Penny Bucket - The penny bucket is barely a ship. It's looks like a wash-bucket with a wooden T nailed to it and has a large white shirt as a sale. As far as you can tell there's no way to steer, its an utter mystery to you how it ended up in port, let alone why the dock authority would charge it to dock. When you peer inside the bucket you see a small red pseudodragon peacefully sleeping on it's hoard, which consists of 3pp, 16gp, 103sp, and 56cp, 6 rubies worth 30gp, and a dusty diamond worth 300gp , and a small magical trinket of the DM's choice. If woken up the Pseudodragon wakes up and fiercely snarls , cowering, and protecting its stuff. The dragon will trade any of the items in its hoard if the adventurers offer something of value, or a large amount of food. If the party wants to adopt the dragon along with it's hoard it may be won over with gifts and a DC18 animal handling check. [dweeb_bush]
43. The Crafty Raft - A makeshift raft has floated down the coast and slammed into the dock. There is no one on board and it appears to be unmanned. There is a note fixed to the mast with a tiny butterknife. The note has directions, "at the lightning stump follow the stream and rescue us". The raft, and attached note were made by crafty goblins attempting to lure creatures down the coast right into a trap. The goblins have made finding their hideout incredibly easy. With a DC 5 nature (tracking) check the party can find the tree and follow it down to the river. The real trap is a series of pitfall traps cleverly hidden in and around the stream. If the adventurers continue along the stream they must succeed on a DC18 Perception check to avoid it and must succeed on a DC14 Dexterity save or fall 10ft. into spikes and take 1d6 bludgeoning damage and 2d6 piercing damage. They are then accosted by 2d4 goblins. [dweeb_bush]
44. The Illusory Boat - Moored in the port is a huge gleaming golden pirate ship, there must be at least 50 richly dressed halflings manning it. There's a long gangplank extending to the dock. Suddenly there's the noise of several cannons firing off. The guards rush over to the ship, fearing that they are attacking the port. They scream at the ship- "come down here and speak to us you cowards, we can't board your ship without permission but we will call the town guard!" A voice calls from the ship yelling insults at the guards aiming to infuriate them till they board the boat. If any one steps on the gangplank they must succeed on a DC 14 Dexterity save or fall into the water, as they do the ship dissapears and it's revealed that the entire ship is a major illusion cast by three giggling wizards who run away from one of the neighboring piers. [dweeb_bush]
45. The Question - There's a metallic ship floating in the water. From it you hear loud beeping, chirping, and whirring noises coming from it and it's attracted a large crowd of 3d10 townsfolk, who are fearfully inspecting the ship. As you approach closer you begin to hear a voice in all the artificial noises. You hear it asking thousands of questions, in thousands of voices: "who am I?", "why am I here?", "What's that ugly thing over there?", "what is the meaning to life", "Why are there people watching me?", and other creepy remarks that give the idea that the ship is conscious and scared. When the adventurers look into the boat they see a blinking green, light with a swirling marbled texture on it. The light turns red and starts asking questions very specific to the party. Before long it begins speaking in tongues and a flash of blinding light appears. The adventurers make a DC13 constitution save. On a failed save they are blinded for a minute and take 4d4 psychic damage or half as much on a successful save. When the adventurers look again the ship is gone and there is just a small gemstone floating in the water, whispering to the party in tongues that are unintelligible. [dweeb_bush]
46. The mistake -A small boat that seems to have been renamed fairly recently. The - ake part of the name is in a different calligraphy and color from the rest of the name [Ido97]
47. The Barnacle - An old weathered gun-ship bearing it's scars from many a battle, but nevertheless being no worse for the wear. Built strong from some ancient hardwoods and it has been well maintained to the best a ship of that age could be. The crew is a rowdy bunch of salty Dawgs that work as hard as they play...and they fight even harder. They may squabble amongst themselves, but don't you dare mess with or insult one of their brotherhood. They have come to port ready to sell their wares, collect their bounty and spend it irresponsibly. All so they can find their next mission and do it all over again. [gothic03]
48. The Bauntoo - A strange ramshackle ship occupied by amphibious humanoids that spend near their entire lives out at sea, trade in weird cool stuff they've found deep diving into cool underwater locations like ocean ruins, and wont be at port for long. [Swerve-Bro]
49. The Leviathan - A huge ship listing hard to one side, its mast broken halfway up and the sails drooping to the deck. All of the wood is dark brown, slimy and rotting out. It looks like someone pulled a shipwreck from the bottom of the sea and it remained afloat by some miracle. If the party inspects the ship, they will find it has already been thoroughly looted and all that remains of the crew are skeletons. (Whether the skeletons are animated or not is up to you). The dock guards will tell you that a huge fog rolled in last night and this ship was there when the fog lifted. [painterinsomniac]
50. The Menagerie - A decent sized merchant ship, this one is run by all sorts of different creatures though none are humanoid. This ship was originally a travelling circus showing off all manner of awakened animals who were kept captive. The animals are quite amiable and will offer carry passengers in exchange for assistance selling their goods in markets. [painterinsomniac]
51. The Coffin - A casket-shaped ship that contains the body of a 21-ft giant. The top of the casket has been fitted with sails and rigging and is manned by a crew of humans who tell the party that the giant hired them before his death. He always wanted to sail around the world, so half of all his treasures would be given to the crew who sailed him around the world. The money is to be awarded upon the crews return to the giant's family home, and the crew must have an artefact from each land to prove their voyage complete to the family and get their loot. Of course, the crew isn't bothering with actually sailing around the world - they're content to just make port for a year and trade people for ancestral trinkets so they can return to the land of giants in a year and take their massive loot. They've been given a hefty advance to cover the cost of their long voyage, so money is no object. Adventurers can sell their items if the item is from a distinct background (eg a Dwarven Warhammer, an Elven scroll of healing, etc). [Anceaus]
52. The Lighthouse - This ship is captained by a young cowardly wizard and an equally nervous-looking crew of young human men. Atop the central mast is a large lighthouse light, which the owner uses to keep other ships far away from him while at sea so as to avoid any trouble. If approached, the captain will immediately begin grovelling and handing over loot at the sight of the party's weapons, offering them any onboard services he can think of for his crew to do for them (shoeshines, blade sharpening, armour mending).Turns out it's all an act - the captain is actually a conniving trickster who transports and deals in Light Blue Light, a magical drug that induces paranoia/twitchy behaviour but grants a 1d6 bonus to Strength for a period of 1 hour. [Anceaus]
53. The Nest - A vaguely ship-shaped bramble of collected branches and tar, this vessel doesn't look like it should even float, much less sail. It's run completely by Kenku's. They love to collect shiny objects and every nook and cranny of the nest is filled with glittering pieces of treasure and trinkets, among which are a range of magical items.Anything can be bought for a price, but what they especially want is for the adventurers to help them get a shiny old chalice that they've spotted beneath the waters of the harbour - they aren't big swimmers. [Anceaus]
54. The Half-Pint - An average looking, 2nd-rate ship run exclusively by halflings and gnomes. The crew are rolling a large number of barrels off the ship. A DC 13 Investigation Check will uncover that the Half-Pint has almost twice as many decks as a regular ship of that size and the diminutive crew use the extra space to smuggle illegal magical ale that has explosive side effects. If approached, the first mate (a scruffy gnome named Sebastiano who trusts people a little too easily considering his trade) will ask the party if they are 'for hire' or just want a cask.If the party is looking to buy, refer to the http://dndspeak.com/2017/12/100-random-potion-effects/ to determine what effect their beer has.If they're interested in the job, he would have them guard a supply wagon transporting contraband IPA to an old wizard who lives in an ivory tower in the nearby forest for a sum of 25gp each. What the party doesn't know is that the wizard is in the process of transitioning into a Lich, and the beer is the magical conduit by which he has been transforming. The wizard has the stats of a Revenant if the party chooses to fight him. If an unconscious creature drinks the illegal beer, they will be revived and become Undead. [Anceaus]
55. The "Blu Moon" - A two masted Caravel. An ocean going merchant ship, that has recently been damaged by pirates, but escaped because they dumped all cargo overboard. The ship is being repaired and expected to be ready in two days. The captain, Quintus "Full" Moon, already has agreed to transport 24 bales of dyed fabric to [INSERT DESTINATION] but is now looking for some more cargo for the same destination. The rest of the crew is: first mate Eldan Wind (m half-elf), bosun Karrla (f half-orc), helmsman Olfie Re (f half-elf), cook Carlin Zwiet (f gnome), and four human sailors: Frenk(m), Ra(f), Tjoris(m) en Huub(m). Huub is a 12 year old boy on his first trip. [Jeeve65]
56. The Leatherback - A merchant ship from a faraway land. It is made of a beautiful reddish wood and adorned with many colorful flags. About half the crew is made up of tortles and the other half consists of various other races they picked up on their travels. They are very friendly people and will happily buy you a drink or two in exchange for stories of your adventures or of the places and cultures you’ve experienced. If they take a liking to you they're even willing to give you free passage to wherever you'd like to travel... as long as that place happens to be the next port along their voyage. [TheMightyLoaf]
57. []
58. []
59. []
60. []
61. []
62. []
63. []
64. []
65. []
66. []
67. []
68. []
69. []
70. []
71. []
72. []
73. []
74. []
75. []
76. []
77. []
78. []
79. []
80. []
81. []
82. []
83. []
84. []
85. []
86. []
87. []
88. []
89. []
90. []
91. []
92. []
93. []
94. []
95. []
96. []
97. []
98. []
99. []
100. []

The results are in for Match 12.
“Well, now, that was a treat, wasn’t it? Alright, everyone, get ready for the main event! Bursting into the lane, ready for her adoring fans, give it up loud and clear for… TD/MD!”
The crowd went wild, then, as the star emerged, wearing a brightly-shining silver top dotted in acciaccatura symbols, blue shorts and long silver and black socks on her right and left legs accentuating the graceful form of TD/MD. Her eyes, already discolored so drastically from one another, were accentuated with asymmetric eyeshadow, gray and blue, blue dots of makeup underneath the latter left eye, and as she emerged, her left hand, clad in a blue glove with a black line through its center, stretched towards the crowd, her right in a silvery glistening glove moving towards the black headphones around her neck, blue acciaccatura symbols on either outside as other musical symbols, smaller, less prominent, dotted the rest of the thing. There was an obvious extravagance in the outfit made more impressive by its components being relatively simple: a t-shirt, shorts, socks, shoes, and gloves, really.
“Whoa, talk about a tough act to follow… And that’s coming from me!” Metra Doria laughed lightly, having emerged to an immensely lively, astonished, applauding audience, applauding the avant-garde show which had led up to her. “Sound’s Garden, am I right? The people this place attracts are some of the most interesting performers I have ever known, and what we all just witnessed, I think, is a perfect preamble, a summation of everything we should aspire to be, of the power to move hearts and souls that music can have! I seriously feel like I need to give the best damn concert of my life now just to be worthy of headlining here… And of course, I can’t play everything alone. Before we start, let’s hear it for my backing band!”
“My bassist, Stella Starlight, my drummer, Scott Sundquist, annnnd…” Melodically, that ‘and’ trailed until one of the stagehands from before, clad now in a totally new outfit, emerged. “Luna, on the synth!” With the band introduced to cheers, TD/MD, then, sat before a piano which the rest of the stagehands had moved onstage while the crowd’s eyes were on the star, and a cloud of smoke in their path. “So, Los Fortuna, are! You! Ready?!”
The first of many songs that night began.
In the chaos of these two disparate teams, both quite surprised by the realization of who they would be sharing their stages with, their independent plans, nonetheless, blended together seamlessly to tell classical comedies of ancient kings and heroes, of fighting and rejecting a tragic end, a bizarre prog rock gymnastic live weapons show tale of the human spirit at its finest.
It was often that, thanks to the mishaps of the manager Thutmose, the acts before TD/MD went down in memetic legend, the stuff people spoke about often both on social media and in shady, smoky backrooms. Usually, however, they were spoken of as disasters saved by her star performance, to the point where some wondered if it was on purpose to hype her up more at some poor bastard’s extent.
That night, however, a certain performance pierced the hearts of the crowd and brought about complete adoration, even matching the attention of the headliner. As her own show, grand, perfect, putting a tear in the eye of the man who sat beside Tigran Sins in a special box, drew to a close, and the crowd called for an encore, TD/MD spoke into the microphone. “Alright, Los Fortuna, I think I definitely have time for one more song, but… I haven’t forgotten who you were all cheering for earlier. In the time it’s taken, we’ve already seen to it… I’m going to welcome some people back on the stage to join me for this!” Directing her hand stage left, she declared, “‘Nureyev,’ Admiral Pineapples ‘Orpheus,’ ‘Hades,’ and all the best stagehands in the world, get back up here, the whole of you! Let’s close the night off in the best way possible!”
The winner is Everyone, with a score of 79!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Masters of Funky Action	16-14	There were a record number of tie votes this match, but in the end, just barely, MFA pulled ahead in popularity by a singular vote.
Quality	Judecca Highrollers	27-29	Reasoning
JoJolity	Tie	27-27	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10

After the show, Metra asked the quartet to wait for her outside her green room so they might speak in private as she dressed back down into more casual getup, the four of them and manager Thutmose conversing outside all throughout.
“That was legendary,” Rudolf said first, “feel like we really moved hearts out here tonight!”
“Even if only for a little while…” Admiral Pineapples agreed, looking over the Highrollers. “It was very nice to work with you, even under such strange circumstances.”
“Tens of thousands… It’s still surreal,” Alexis added, “they were cheering for us almost as hard as they were for TD/MD… And I heard they usually end up laughing off the act right before the big headliner?”
Cybil simply allowed a smug smile. “I was advocating for you, Alexis, so of course I knew you would defeat such superstitions…” And then, she offered the manager a frown. “Mr. Thutmose. I hope now you’ve learned a lesson about fooling around with people. It is only because we were so amazing that you still have your job right now.”
“How humble…” Thutmose answered, chuckling nervously and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll go straight now… I didn’t realize how much this was upsetting Metra, either-”
“Thutmose, my boy,” a self-important voice said, announcing his presence an instant before his garish demeanor could assault the eyes of the hangers-around. Tigran Sins, in his gold-yellow checkered suit, approached, that muscular brunette right hand of his, Fox, close by, a sort of warmth on his still quite intimidating face, “you really do know how to pick ‘em. Miss Antoine, Mr. Pavlova, Admiral, and Alexis, you were… I must say, almost sort of in the league of our star.”
“Not even close, really,” Fox answered, stepping forward then, a massive bouquet in his hands, a vinyl tucked neatly under his arm, “anyway, Thutmose, let us through. We need to speak with her now… That show was her greatest yet, and she needs to hear it personally from-”
“TD/MD isn’t seeing anyone else tonight,” Thutmose answered, the young man standing firmer now, though all four of his companions noticed that he seemed to be shaking. “She’s exhausted after her show, and already needs to make time for others…” He moved to yoink the flowers out of his hands. “I’ll give these to her on your behalf, though, and tell her who it’s from… But she won’t be seeing you.”
Like that, the warm demeanor on the intimidating-looking man’s face grew tenser again, and even Tigran seemed to grow frustrated as well, answering next, “are you certain she can’t make time? Fox really needs to speak with her in person.”
“Hey, hey, you heard the twink,” Rudolf interjected, stepping in now (“Twink..?” “Yep!”), raising a bathrobe-covered arm, “let’s keep things excellent here and not freak the poor lady out. I hear she’s got a perfect pitch, ya know, so she’s gonna hear it if we’re ruinin’ her night!”
Fox folded his arms, Tigran himself looking contemplative, almost stressed, before his accompaniment turned away, seemingly aware of the numbers on the meek man’s side. “Next time, then.”
The pair left, and like that, Thutmose nearly collapsed into the wall, exhaling. “I just defied Tigran to his face… Hhehhhh…” He shook his head. “She should be ready by now. I’m gonna go burn these flowers… Maybe start online shopping for walking sticks, ‘cuz I feel like my kneecaps are gonna notice this…”
A voice called from the inside, seemingly concurring with the manager’s point. “Coast clear? Alright, come in!”
The four entered, seeing Metra sitting there casually in a black hoodie, more fit for the cool evening, with blue sweatpants covered in silver spirals, relaxing into her chair and nursing a bottle of some sports drink with the label peeled away idly. “You four have all shown me pretty definitely what you stand for tonight… You’re cool. I think I can trust you. Have a seat, alright? Let’s hang out, chat a bit. I don’t think I need to tell you there’s a lot in Sound’s Garden that needs talking-about.”
For interested parties, as of this going up, there is still a day left to vote in a match between masters of lawful bastard and chaotic bastard energies, both vying to get the other thrown out of a resort.
Scenario:
A former speakeasy in Hotel Delmano - North Island, Downtown Los Fortuna. Late morning
The Baker Street Rat Pack had a good few ideas to advance forward juggling in their heads, now that the city’s issues were rapidly beginning to juggle themselves more and more.
North Island PD was still more aggressive under the galvanizing rhetoric of Council Chairman March, none of which seemed to be stopping the serial killer who ran rampant in the region, the districts west of the Wormwood seemed a hotbed of wars between gangs, unions, and the bulk of ODIN’s security forces, and that wasn’t even getting into issues which the BSRP had no relation to, but were indeed aware of.
The matter most currently relevant to Cy Syntheta, however, was listening to the concerns and fleeting research of Peter “Treagon” Bequasimodo.
“I just don’t get it,” Peter said to them, looking fleetingly at his laptop. “I can’t use my Stand to get out of the city, and now I try to use it to look into this ‘Institute’ here, and can't get into there either. It’s like… They have some sort of Stand User Firewall, in simple, un-hacker terms.”
Cy had been sitting and chatting with the self-styled treasonous vegan, having been of the mind of late to actually do something useful, and remembering the hacktivist had been hot on somebody, something or another’s trail. “So you have a clue as to what that ‘from the Institute, Oh No,’ thing meant?”
“Better than a clue,” Peter answered, “turns out it literally wasn’t even a riddle. Just a straightforward signoff.” Like that, he stylishly spun his laptop around on a nearby surface, stopping it as the screen faced Cy. “Look for yourself.”

• Pezzetti di Cavallo (55, M) - Professor and Representative of School of Law, Chief Prosecutor
• CaraMel Dansen (26, F) - Notable Alumnus and Representative of School of Culinary Arts, Acclaimed Confectioner
• Million Dollars (37, F) - Professor of Economics, Representative of School of Business, Multimedia Producer
• Willard Drankwater (108, M) - Professor of Chemistry, Representative of School of Medicine, Nobel Laureate, Oldest Man in Los Fortuna
• Theodore Lloyd (35, M) - Dean and Representative of Arts College, Former Adjunct Professor
• Oh No (Age Unknown, M) - Head and Representative of the Midnight Sun Parapsychological Research Institute
• Venus York (47, Other) - Professor of Sociology at College of Social Sciences

“This is…” Cy was catching on quickly. “The ‘University Board’ of Midnight Sun? Hell, I knew they were kind of a big deal, but looking over these names back and forth…”
“Yep,” Peter answered, “and these are the basics I could dig up on most of them… This No guy, though, other than existing? Practically a ghost. Apparently sometimes doesn’t even show for meetings in person.”
“And we have definite signs this guy knows about people’s Stand abilities, and hangs out with that ‘Golden Sins’ guy you punched out? ‘Parapsychological Research,’ too… Sounds like Stands without outright saying Stands.”
“Think I might have to go physical again,” Peter answered, “if an agent of Neoliberal Academia is on us, we gotta know their intention. With those types you never know if they’re with you or gonna sell you out. Think I was gonna start by checking out some Institute libraries.”
“Wait,” Cy answered in turn, “you say they know about you and you’ve been trying to break in already… Then it might be too much heat on you to storm the castle. Let me take care of it.”
“Oh, man, really? That’s super cool of you, Cy. If you find anything, I owe you one.”
“Don’t think of it like I’m being nice to you for its own sake,” the assassin answered, “this is something that affects me, too, especially if we screw it up, and a physical infiltration is the kind of thing I’m more suited for than you… Though I will remember what you just offered.”
Midnight Sun University Town - A Street Decked out for Pride
Raymond “Ray” Delwyn Shimizu, meanwhile, had discovered similar information to Cy under what can be called vastly different circumstances: rather than suspicious, experience and perspective had taught him to have a cautiously optimistic approach to the clear power over the Metropolitan area the University Board held.
To the Speedwagon Foundation, this Parapsychological Research Facility has always been an enigma, since it’s always been a risk to send many operatives to Los Fortuna, but I have a ‘feeling…’ A ‘feeling’ that tells me they are not going to be so dissimilar to us. I can’t help but wonder, then, like how my team is dealing with Cairo now, if SKADE can’t have its ‘talents’ assisted by some University grants and allianceship as well… Our ‘contact’ within ODIN didn’t have a bad word to say about them, so it likely won’t cause trouble with them, either.
But first, Raymond knew, he could not simply walk blindly into such an alliance, much like his team had needed first to figure this Cairo out a bit more before adding their resources to their mission. A place worth starting to do such homework, then, would be in the records of their little research institute.
As he walked along, Raymond soon passed by a frankly adorable-looking building, a sign out front of the place reading in bubbly letters: ‘CaraMel’s Confection & Bakery’
To that end, then, he thought, oh, tempting… Maybe I’ll stop by on the way back from the library, bring donuts or weird candies or something back to the gang. I have to imagine they’re delicious… Peering through the window, he saw the place absolutely bustling, loaded with the kind of crowd that speaks to waiting nearly an hour in line, and more going in. Urgh, and maybe there’ll be less of a line by then.
After thinking that to himself, then, Raymond continued onwards, still making sure to eye every little oddity and incongruity of the area he could. Peaceful as the college town largely seemed, strange phenomena that could only amount to Stand usage also felt especially concentrated, even compared to the rest of this city.
I’ve heard rumors of all number of notorious members of the Stand underworld in the region, and I’m sure I’m not the only one out here seeking this library out… or the one with the worst of intentions for it.
Midnight Sun Parapsychological Institute Research Library - 1F Lobby
Much to Raymond’s surprise, the place seemed… A pretty ordinary research library, all things considered. He hadn’t gotten terribly far in yet, of course, but then again, he didn’t really know what he was expecting.
A receptionist with braided dark-red hair, round, spiraling glasses, and a blue vest over a short-sleeved black button-up sat at the front desk, guarding his way from a pair of doors behind him. Off to one side, gated from entry, sat a stairwell, visibly enticing, yet with a sign before it very overtly communicating: NO PUBLIC ENTRANCE.
Ah, well, he could at least get an idea by looking around what sort of face they were willing to show anyone who entered.
“Erm… S-sir?” The young woman at the entrance asked, seeming intimidated by his tall form. “Did you need to find something in particular? I’m, uh, I mean we… We’re not, uh.” She blinked. “What did you want again?”
The sight practically made Ray roll his eyes, but he was able to let through a straightforward, “I didn’t say, actually…” Crap, he hadn’t thought this far, either. Of course a place like this would want to know why people were looking into it. Still, though, Ray was nothing if not smooth and even-faced, and in the span of the time between that ‘actually’ and opening his mouth again, he had thought convincingly of what wasn’t a lie, but didn’t actually say much of anything either. “I want to look into some cases this Institute has worked for this city. This is a pretty big place, and I know it’s a storied institution, so I thought I should get acquainted with some of them.”
“R-right! Of course! So nothing in particular? Okay, cool..! I’m, uh… P-please, don’t hesitate at all if you need me…” The young woman pressed a button by her desk, and the doors clicked, unlocking from this side. As Ray began towards it, though, he was interrupted. “Oh, and one more thing!”
He could practically see the ‘menacings’ emanating off of her, those adorable glasses practically shining as she spoke more clearly now. “There are two types of research library… Ones which only allow ‘reference,’ and ones which allow ‘lending’ to guests. We’re not a lending library, so don’t let us catch you taking anything out of here… Do you understand me, sir?”
“…crystal clear.” This girl is a Stand User… For a moment, I almost let it slip my mind where I am.
“Great!” She said, back to her somewhat nervous, bubbly demeanor. “Oh, and, uh… Don’t make too much noise either, ‘kay? I won’t be able to tell, because these walls are soundproofed, but we can’t be held accountable for what happens if you get other library patrons angry..!”
There, she sounded more honest, even a touch exasperated to Raymond, as if exactly that had happened too many times to count, and she was resigned to it happening again. “I understand.”
Curious as he stepped in, Raymond tested the door… Seemed it did, at least, open from the inside, so no fire hazard or Stand trap there even if it was locked externally. The library interior was hardly bustling, per se, but there were, regardless, a few faces about, all of whom struck Raymond as people it might or might not be a worthwhile idea to fuck with, including but not limited to a tall, balding, androgynous figure with an eyepatch over their forehead, a very average-looking young woman in a purple beret, a red-clad teenager in an aviator hat with a feather plume, round glasses, and long facial features, a tall twentysomething in too many coats with hair like a palm tree, a balding, dark-haired, bespectacled, bearded figure in a stupid black cap and loosely-worn red tie with simultaneously an utterly unhinged and utterly vacant look in his eye, and a blond, stubbly-haired twenty-something six-foot-something in sunglasses and a vest with shoulder sections that wriggled down his arms.
Raymond thought little of the colorful characters around as he went to start picking out some reference material to sit at a desk with, but as he did, he happened to glance across the aisle, seeing there someone who he definitely knew was probably trouble: a short-haired, taller-than-him, androgynous blond with chin-length, face-covering bangs, which had an almost plastic sheen to them. They wore a form-fitting crop-top, shoulder-length cloak, jorts, leggings, and an armful of plastic bands.
No way… I’ve heard of this person before! The foundation says that Cy Syntheta is a ruthless sellsword who’ll work any job. What could a person like that want in a place like this? Who are you doing research for? I smell trouble here… I’m going to need to apprehend them, dead or alive, before someone gets seriously hurt. I must say, as a swordsman myself, though, I’m almost excited… Almost.
Cy Syntheta, minutes ago, had received a similar spiel for a similar non-explanation of their intentions, though theirs even vaguer, given the fact that the assassin was entering fully prepared to find information which led them to view the Institute as some sort of enemy. Their hunt for information about the hotel they occupied had led to a fascinatingly thorough history of its paranormal and criminal oddities, but nothing which referenced any of them.
Nothing written about Heartache Casino where you’d expect, except a very brief mention of an assault from an ancient king when they tried to display some kind of ancient slab in the early 2010s… Nothing about us, either, when we know they definitely have something on us. Ugh. Is that on the more confidential floors..? Maybe I do need to start figuring out how to break in… And then, a moment later, their head perked up with a realization. There’s eyes on me… Someone is watching me right now, and close.
Their head, then, darted across the aisles, and directly across from them stood a tall, broad-looking figure glancing their way with a clear, sneering suspicion. Everything about this guy screamed ‘fed,’ or at least something adjacent.
Looks like my reputation has caught up to me again… Well, that’s just great. I’m gonna need to take this guy out then… How annoying. Hopefully, all these other guys stay out of it so I can get back to what I was doing.
OPEN THE-
Shhh!
Open the game…
Location: A public floor of the Midnight Sun Parapsychological Research Institute Library. The area here is 32 by 32 meters with each tile being 2 by 2 meters. Players are represented by their tokens with Raymond on the center left and Cy on the center right.
The purple rectangles are bookshelves that are each around 2 meters tall. The brown rectangles are desks complete with chairs and lighting. The green circle is the help and resources desk. The plus signs are computer desks and the cone shapes on the bottom sides of the map are printers.
Goal: RETIRE your opponent!
Additional Information: They’re minding their own business, but the Institute Library is sparsely populated with a number of Stand Users among the general civilians. If you make too much noise or actively try to involve them in your fight, they’ll kick your ass, and you will be RETIRED. If you try to trick them into thinking your opponent is antagonizing them by using your own abilities to somehow try to make them look bad, they’ll kick your ass, and you will be RETIRED.
On the other hand, though, as long as you’re not actively aiming for them, even the non-stand users in this area are pretty savvy people to be actively researching here in the middle of a fight; chumps, cowards, and charlatans will have already fled before they’re in any danger, leaving only people who know the score. They can generally reliably avoid being hurt, and as long as you aren’t too loud, will not under any circumstances besides aforementioned loss conditions use their various Stands to kick your ass.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Baker Street Rat Pack	Cy Syntheta	“My name is ‘Kira Yoshikage.’ I can’t remember when or how I died… but one thing I can say is I feel certain I will not go to Heaven.” This parapsychological research library has some truly morbid, fascinating stories from which to draw inspiration. Take creative inspiration from paranormal knowledge in the basis and techniques of your strategy!
Sharp Lookers	Raymond “Ray” Delwyn Shimizu	“I saw a book, seemingly unpopular, titled ‘The Elephant Who Lost His Nose.’ I thought to myself… Now why in the world would he lose his nose?” You’ve found your way to an absolutely fascinating source of unusual parapsychological knowledge, and as an agent of SKADE and of the Foundation alike, you aren’t going to take this opportunity for granted. Take creative inspiration from paranormal knowledge in the basis and techniques of your strategy!

Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!

“届けて, 切なさには名前をつけようか ‘Snow halation!’”
The harpoon lodged itself into the Ocean Soul’s chest following a powerful toss from Pork Soda, the beast desperately trying to hit the tether to destroy it and release the harpoon, to no avail. The Ocean Soul had underestimated its opponents, who were currently singing some sort of song, perhaps a sort of war cry, meant to display their superior strength.
“想いが重なるまで待てずに, 悔しいけど好きって純情”
It had to do something! It released the Calamus Root in store within its mouth, ready to spit it out, before Sayonara Kodoku picked the Ocean Soul up, shut its mouth tight, and tossed it over to Pork Soda. With a thrust of its fingers, the porcine stand pierced the Ocean Soul’s eyes, blinding it.
Then, the two stands rushed at it, sending forwards a barrage of blows, breaking bones, claws, and disorientating it, before getting ready for a finisher. Pork Soda picked the Ocean Soul up by its tail and began spinning around, the rapid movement disorientating the fish and sending it closer and closer to its doom.
No, no! It couldn’t let this be! The Ocean Soul was a hunter, and even if its prey had gotten a leg up on it this time, it wasn’t going to give up! It could barely remain conscious under the pressure as the porcine stand spun it around, its already severe wounds getting exacerbated, but it had to do something!
Just one shot! Just one precise shot and it could use the opportunity to escape, to recover! The porcine stand was spinning it around by its tail, so the Ocean Soul could calculate the stand’s position! It just needed to regain its bearings, focus on getting a shot aimed, and it could use its spit to-
SLAM!
With a brutal impact, the Ocean Soul was slammed into a nearby rock. It felt itself sinking in the water as the two stands approached it, its imminent doom coming closer and closer with every movement they made.
It needed to escape, but it couldn’t bring itself to move. The two stands made their way towards it, floating above the ground as they loomed over the barely conscious beast.
Was this going to be it for the Ocean Soul?
“微熱の中 ためらってもダメだね, 飛び込む勇気に賛成 まもなく start!”
Like hell it was.
Gathering the little remaining energy it had, the Ocean Soul spat out the Calamus Root stored within its mouth, mixed with its saliva. Hitting the ground underneath the two stands, two long spikes quickly sprouted out of it and towards their bodies.
Though Sayonara Kodoku’s tough skin didn’t get pierced, the force of the growing spike sent it flying into the air, incapacitating it, if only for a moment. Meanwhile, Pork Soda wasn’t as lucky as it, the spike piercing through the left side of its body, tearing through its left leg and shoulder. The Ocean Soul couldn’t hear anything from underwater, but it was sure that its user was reeling in pain right about now.
Using the remainder of its energy, the Ocean Soul bolted away, desperately trying to remain conscious as it swam away from what it once considered its prey. It didn’t even look backwards, fearing that doing so would give its opponents the time they needed to finish it off for good. It didn’t even keep track of how far it swam, or for how long its opponents had chased it, or if they had done so at all. Its body was searing in pain, broken bones and wounds all over it.
Eventually, it couldn’t bring itself to swim any further, losing consciousness and sinking down into the ocean, not even the searing pain keeping it awake as it began to rest.
The Ocean Soul had lost, but this wasn’t the end of the beast. Though barely, it had managed to escape this encounter with its life.
The results are in for Match 10. The winner is…
‘Agnes’ Bayley and Prince Cosmo, with a score of 80 to the Ocean Soul’s 60!

Category	Winner	Point Totals	Comments
Popularity	Players	25-5	The word of the voterbase was clear: the vast majority felt that the Ocean Soul was handily defeated by the players.
Quality	Players	23-22	Reasoning
JoJolity	Ocean Soul	22-23	Reasoning
Conduct	Tie	10-10

“AAAAGH! GODDAMIT, STUPID FUCKING FISH!!” Agnes screamed in pain while clutching his leg, body strewn onto the nearest island, carried by Sayonara Kodoku. “IT STABBED THROUGH MY GODDAMN LEG!! FROM THE FOOT, TO MY WAIST, TO MY FUCKING SHOULDER! AAARGH, DAMMIT, WHERE’S JENNY WHEN YOU NEED HER!!”
“You should be happy we got away with our lives. The Ocean Soul isn’t going to come finish us off any time soon after what we did to it.”
“OH, REAL RICH COMING FROM THE ONE WHO DIDN’T GET STABBED IN THE FUCKING LEG BY THAT MONSTER. DO YOU WANT ME TO STAB YOU AS WELL SO YOU CAN SEE HOW IT FEELS?!” Agnes started rummaging around his surroundings with his right hand, searching for a sharp object to use for his “demonstration”.
“Frankly, you deserve it. Don’t forget that you are the cause for this all. Were it not for your foolishness, Webb would still be alive, and this would not have happened to you.” Cosmo chided.
“PFFF- WHATEVER!” In between his heavy breathing and pained cries, Agnes let out an audible sigh. “Fffffuck this, I’m gonna check my phone to see if there’s any connection here so that we can get the hell out of this place ASAP!” Agnes picked up his phone and pulled it up, taking a look at it.
“That will not be necessary. There is no connection here anyways, and I am certain that a helicopter has been sent out to retrieve us, or at the very least ascertain what might have happened to-” “Shut up, I’m getting a message from Cairo. ‘Don’t worry, Agnes, we have sent your location over to Vitus, and help should arrive in about fifteen minutes.’” Agnes looked at his phone in confusion. “Vitus? Who’s that asshole?”
“Vitus is the man who sent the helicopters out. The one which you indirectly crashed. Nonetheless, let me see that - I have a hard time believing that your phone is capable of picking up a signal when we’re so far away from any cellular towers.”
“And why should I care about what you believe, huh? Here, take a look for yourself!” Agnes shoved the phone in front of Cosmo's face, the dog looking intently at it and seeing… nothing beyond a simple homescreen. “What is this supposed to be. This is your phone’s home screen, and though that horrendous chimera at its center is an affront to anything and everything I believe in, there is no notification here. Could it be that you are perhaps hallucinating from the pain?”
“Wh- you can’t see it?! Don’t fuck with me!” Looking at the dog’s deadpan expression, Agnes could tell that that wasn’t the case. He looked over at the phone, spotting it right there, as clear as day - a notification for an sms from Cairo themselves, containing what he read out loud! “Fuck you, I’m not hallucinating! If anything, you are!”
Cosmo was about to retort, when he spotted something over the distance - a sailboat. It was old and decrepit, seemingly having gone through significant damage and yet still remaining intact, somehow. It clearly didn’t belong to Vitus, and likely wasn’t Cairo’s either. On the boat, he saw a silhouette of a haggard man, but the distance meant that he couldn’t exactly tell exactly what he looked like.
“Someone is coming.”
It wouldn’t be much longer before Agnes and Cosmo were able to get back onland, learn what terrible things they’d missed, even if they still had a wait and a talk ahead of them. Left to nurse grievous wounds, this seaborne menace has seen this chapter of aggression momentarily closed, but further inland, the waters of a laundromat are being braved by a time traveler and a woman in chains.
Scenario:
Sound’s Garden Eastern Strip - A Golden Limousine
The evening was beginning to set in, the lights of the islands of the area beginning to flash on and dot the sky as two women rode through the city, looking out through the windows as they relaxed in luxury. Cybil Antoine was one to travel in style, and now, with a companion in tow, was no exception.
“A strip that absolutely comes alive at night… Makes me feel almost nostalgic for Vegas,” her redheaded travel companion mused as she looked out, “speakin’ of which… you ever play anything like that, Cyby? Cards, slots, so on. We could try Heartache Casino, maybe, if we have time sometime… I bet you’d just have to throw your name around to get up on its higher floors.”
“It’s Cybil,” the wealthy woman emphasized, with an exhaustion begotten by this having been far from the first time, “or Miss Antoine… Either way, I am not a ‘Cyby.’ Get it right next time, alright?”
“Right, yeah, I know you’ve told me… I’m just a nicknamer by heart. Cross my heart, though! It won’t happen again!” Alexis Williams seemed… As serious as she could get about something like that, as curiously carefree, even devil-may-care, as the performer could get.
“Commit it to memory, then. Despite how much a fool you can act, I’m sure you know how much I had to pull to get you onto this stage.”
“Believe me, I do appreciate it!” Alexis answered, focus now turned away from the topic of gambling and onto that. “Putting on a show at one of the biggest stages in Los Fortuna, bigger than anything I’ve done before… I know our group has had some bad luck lately, with Bucket causing that trouble down at the fish market, and how down on herself Leo has been since that dumb show she said she got roped into, but we’re still the freakin’ Judecca Highrollers, right? I want to show the world that, and from their box, I want to show the rest of our team that we’ve got no better option than to face it all with a grin.”
“How very like you,” Cybil answered, neutral in her tone, careful not to betray the affection in such a statement as she pondered their current status, where they would be playing.
Alexis wouldn’t be headlining, unfortunately, though admittedly, her act wasn’t the sort of thing that did that anyway. Rather, a certain piece of immensely beloved local talent, a rocking performer who went by TD/MD, would be having her play immediately before her at the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, just a drive over a rapidly approaching bridge away. Cybil had been a little annoyed that one of her statues had been overshadowed by a plane crashing near it, not to mention had a desire to spread further the local influence of their team, and so she had arranged with the heads of the entertainment industry of Los Fortuna to see to it that her personal favorite performer among the allies and associates she’d made was onstage at the best possible place for a person wanting to be noticed.
She curled her lips at a cell phone which found its way to its hand, then, narrowing her eyes at its screen. “No word back from your backing band… Where are they? How inconsiderate not to send word on this, especially at how that Mr. Sins recommended them so glowingly.”
“I’m sure they’ll show,” Alexis answered, “and if not… We can make do, can’t we?”
“Of course,” Cybil answered, only to have her eye finally drawn back out the window by the sight of a vehicle which had pulled into the lane directly next to theirs as their limousine crossed the bridge.
Another golden limousine was directly next to them now, this one almost pointedly bigger, longer, more decked out in jewelry, and it seemed to be headed exactly the same way. Cybil, rather than confused or alarmed at the coincidence, simply thought aloud, “that would probably be Mr. Sins… Speak of the devil.”
“Amazing how quickly his casino recovered from nearly burning down…” Alexis mused aloud. “I heard that one of the people who trashed it sent him to the hospital, too.”
“An overreaction I’m certain, from what I know about the man. Absolutely terrified of a little pain, a little elbow grease… I’m not one to gossip, but I can’t help but wonder how a man like him even managed to become so prominent, so consistently successful.”
“Right,” Alexis answered, smirking and putting her finger up to her lips, “I won’t spread that around, then. I know how to schmooze with that type if the need arises.”
Los Fortuna Canals - The SS Sledge Sister
Admiral Pineapples was more comfortable on his own boat, but as far as the fleet of the Masters of Funky Action went, there was no real reason to send out more than one boat for this right now.
“Man, I can’t believe nobody else is ridin’ with me,” his companion, Rudolf Pavlova, said after downing an entire bottle of water in a single gulp, on the tail end of an hourlong keytar solo. “The rest of the Masters better at least make it to the Alexander! It’d really bum me out harder than when Wrenn shot me down if none a’them made it!”
Sorry, but I’m really more the headlining type! Playing second-fiddle to a man in a speedo opening for some local star sounds fun and all, but, I’d totally just overshadow them, I bet! So I should really probably stay out of it! That sentence, clear in its passive-aggressive scathingness, had put Wrenn Aflight’s declining of this gig pretty succinctly. As the man more or less everybody on the team could tolerate, listen to, and generally have a good time with, Admiral had been tasked with asking the other star performer of the team to join Rudolf on the gig he’d accepted opening up for locally beloved rock star and all-around idol TD/MD.
Not wanting to break Rudolf’s heart, he more or less told him the short version, ‘he couldn’t make it,’ and then volunteered his own services for the younger man. “You won’t be out there with none of your allies, though, Nureyev! For I, Admiral Pineapples, will aid you in coordinating every moment of your work! This will be one of the worthiest usages of my tactical mind in a long time, I’m sure!”
“I hope you’ve gotten those hour-long solos out of your system now, Nureyev,” Pineapples warned with an amused, lax tone, “you’re only going to have thirty minutes onstage before the headliner has to get ready, and there’ll be trouble if you bleed into that.”
“I know, I know,” Rudolf answered, casually, as he slipped into an open-chested bathrobe mainly meant to function as the legal requirement of public decency until it was time to perform, “I’m not one to step on anyone’s toes, let alone the star of the show. Live and let live, yeah?”
“I’m curious, though, and you never told me…” The Admiral asked, cracking open a beverage of his own and taking a sip, “how did you manage to get such a part as this in the first place?”
“Oh, that’s simple!” Rudolf said, the thought to answer having simply not occurred to him.
A few weeks ago - A beach in the Waterfront District.
“Alright! Thank you, Los Fortuna! I’m here all day, and all night, and all tomorrow too, baby! Party never stops!” Rudolf had just finished the latest of his performances to a small crowd of beachgoers, shredding through the end of his one-man keytar rendition of 2112 and transitioning into a truly epic medley of the extended Family Guy, American Dad, and Cleveland Show OPs.
As the crowd dispersed, a corporate suit-looking type of guy, bronze-skinned with neatly-groomed hair, remained, eyeing his keytar curiously and smiling artificially. “That was an excellent show, Mr… Pavlova, I think it was? You have such an undeniable energy about you that I can see when I lay eyes upon you… You’ve star material.”
“Am I being poached?” Rudolf asked, tilting his head, “‘cuz I assure you, I am a free agent! Not about to be scooped up by some label and forced to chill out the party churnin’ out music I don’t feel in my soul.”
“Nothing so abrupt, no… I’m a Manager, representing TD/MD. You can call me Thutmose. Anyway, she has a concert approaching rapidly, and we’re struggling and scrambling to find local, new talent and performers to open for her. We’ve managed to secure a lot of artists already, but the most important spot… Playing right before her… That, still, we have a particular need for, and I think you would serve it perfectly.”
“So I accepted!” In the present day, Rudolf finished, “why not, yeah? I can spread the party to tens of thousands at one of the biggest venues in town!”
“Scouted on the street, hm… That’s awfully lucky.” Something about this struck Admiral as odd, but he supposed it was all the more reason it was good he was backing his friend and ally up. He had a strong hunch there was more to it than appeared.
Rudolf’s party yacht would disembark soon, ported on the central-most island of the places which made up Sound’s Garden, and the party would make their way forward from there.
Sound’s Garden West Side - Outside the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater
At the same time, a self-important first step was taken out of a pair of golden limousines, one a heel clacking first out of it and a short, stocky woman in pinstripe emerging, the other dress shoes leading up to a tall, lean man in a gold and yellow tux, grinning and running a hand through his slicked-back hair.
Cybil Antoine hadn’t had the “pleasure” of a personal conversation with Tigran Sins before, but had happened to overhear some of him during her meeting with that Thutmose man, and then and there, she had known everything about him, and knew that she had already had the displeasure of knowing dozens of men like him.
Still, though, one needed to be cordial in times like this, so as Alexis came out behind her, and a very strongly built-looking, mean-looking man with brown hair and a nice vest, attached to the lapel of which was a Heartache Casino brooch (a bouncer? A bodyguard?) stood by Tigran waiting to see what he wanted or what he did, she approached the man who dared to try and be more golden than her Stand. “Mr. Sins, I believe… I believe we’ve crossed paths, briefly, but we didn’t really have a chance to speak.”
The man tensed a bit, only to relax slightly again when he saw that Cybil intended only to speak. “Cybil Antoine, right? I’ve heard you’ve been making a hell of a lot of waves around town lately, so I must say I’m excited to meet you too.” He looked back past her, towards Alexis standing and stretching outside of her team’s limo. “Would that be your star you’ve got going on? Certainly she’s got charm.”
“Hi, right in front of you,” Alexis answered, teasingly passive-aggressively waving, “yeah, I’m going up before TD/MD.”
“She’s a very important star around here, you know… So you’d better put on a show that leaves them wanting for more of the best.” Tigran’s attendant spoke, then, sounding dead serious as he looked them over. “A lot of people have come here just for this, just for her sake… It is completely imperative you keep that in mind.”
Tigran simply nodded, concurring, “couldn’t have said it better myself, Fox.”
Shortly after that, the pairs went their separate ways, shifting through VIP areas of the area of the main structure of the amphitheater, series of comfortably shielded stadium halls that it was.
“Still no sign of the band… Still no word from them either. I’m cross now.”
Alexis, then, stopped in her trail, looking at a schedule which had been printed out and emblazoned upon a green room wall. “Uh, Cybil, you’re gonna wanna take a look at this.”
“Hm?” Cybil raised an eyebrow, turning to face what her partner was pointing at, and then glared again. “Who the hell is Nureyev, and why are they listed at the same time as you?”
“There’s gotta be some kinda mixup or somethin’, man… I know about this ‘Alexis Williams’ it talks about, and hear she’s a Vegas Performer, damn fine one at that who can really strut her stuff. But we ain’t in Vegas at all, so what gives?” Rudolf himself was gesturing at a printout version of much the same piece of programming, he and Admiral Pineapples having wandered much the same series of halls.
“Hrm…” Admiral, now, took a look at the sheet himself, combing over the names before Rudolf on the list and speaking names aloud. “‘Arancini,’ ‘Tenacious-er E,’ ‘Guy and the Fieris’ Heavy Metal Barbershop Quarter,’ all as scheduled… What the hell? Yeah. We’re the only acts double-booked like this, and you say you don’t know this woman personally?”
“Not in the slightest,” Rudolf said, “never laid personal eyes upon her! So maybe there’s a typo, yeah… I know! We could track down Thutmose! But, uh… Where the hell’s Thutmose right now?”
A distorted voice shout-whispered, “I heard that he was visiting TD/MD’s green room.”
“Huh? Oh, thanks!” Rudolf accepted that advice uncritically, beginning to make his way, but Pineapples looked, at least, in the direction it came from, seeing then flashes of a short-looking person in a maroon turban, face bandaged but mouth section bulging with something hidden underneath, and a pair of aviator goggles, as well as a tunic, trousers, and many bulky scarves adorned in the forms of climbing stick figures.
Looking at the man, Pineapples couldn’t help but feel suspicious, but hell, there was a lot shady going on here. “Yes, thank you, Mister… Who am I thanking?”
“No,” the figure answered dismissively, “think little of it… I’m just another interested party watching the show. If there’s confusion, then, I want to see it resolved fast! If you’ll excuse me, though, I need to make my way to my box…”
“Strange man…” Pineapples shook his head, not wanting to leave Rudolf alone to deal with this strange situation. He knew from hearsay and rumor that there were some truly dangerous things lurking in the bowels of Sound’s Garden, and Rudolf, more heart than head, was bound to be barreling into it.
Sound’s Garden - The largest and nicest green room in the halls of the Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater.
Metra Doria sat before a makeup chair as assistants fussed and fussed with her hair, her face, her clothes, occasionally being met with polite thanks, compliments, or idle chit-chat, representing a sort of familiarity the team had had with the pale, short-dark-haired girl with a single blue streak through her front left locks. She stared at her own dressed-up eyes in the mirror, one silver, one blue and at once black-striped through the iris. As she sat here, initially clad pretty casually and low-key, she was Metra, but as the outfit she had selected was put together, she would become TD/MD.
She was being cordial before now, but all of the small talk had ended as soon as her manager came into the scene, knocking, being invited to come in, and then doing so.
“How’s the show going, Thutmose? I wish I could see Guy and the Fieris do their thing, but… Makeup, I swear.”
“There’s… People insisting upon speaking, Metra. They’re performers, the ones before you, and they seem annoyed. I tried to shoo them away and tell them to work it out, but that only incensed the old-timers with them, and now they want to speak to you. I tried telling them it was a waste of your time, but-”
“This close to going on?” Metra narrowed her eyes at the reflected form of her manager. Always, it was one thing after another with this guy. Though most of the time, one might assume there was something not worth it going on here, she knew Thutmose well enough to know there might be problems. She sighed, shutting her eyes now. “It had better be important… Let ‘em in.”
And like that, a quartet of two twenty-somethings, a middle-aged woman, and an old man barreled in through the door at once, all talking over one another and expressing confusion with the other’s very existence and presence. It was making the half-prepared girl more uncomfortable than sitting in a chair for awhile just to get ready for a show often did, so she raised her voice, calmly but authoritatively, literally seeming to drown out their babbling in the process. “Quiet down, alright?! One at a time.”
There was a little more whispering among the four, then, and it was the pinstripe-suited woman who stepped forward among them to speak the crowd’s mind. “TD/MD, I presume… This ‘Thutmose’ man, he has made a grave mistake in the scheduling. My associate Alexis here, and this half-nude man carrying a keytar around, they have not met before today, and they certainly did not intend to collaborate before you. Your manager has refused to listen to reason about this, so we are taking the matter straight past him to you… Resolve it at once, and we can be on our way.”
“What?” Metra, facing them all, blinked, shaking her head and glaring at Thutmose. “Again? How does this keep happening? You overbook acts right before me, and it’s such a disaster I’ve started to need to allot extra time to cleanup guys after those sets… It was bad enough before, but it’s seriously getting out of hand, man. I can’t keep dealing with you if you treat everyone else you deal with like this. You’re done working with me. We’re through.”
“B-but… But Metra..!” Thutmose was flabbergasted, looking almost terrified at the prospect. “Please, be reasonable..! I need this job, understand? I’ve got gambling debts, and-”
“Whoa whoa whoa,” the keytarist (Rudolf, or Nureyev, according to the program) interjected then, “let’s not ruin a man’s life over me and Lexy here, yeah? I looked into the history of this place, the Alexander Dickinson… Named after a big dead deal Philanthropist, so basically a dude from the 90's who gave his all to culture in this city, funded all kinds’a stuff! Would a man like that want a man to be fired in his own memorial stadium?”
The logic seemed to confuse nearly everyone there, not least of all Metra, whose response, after a moment, was, “Huh? You… Are you saying it doesn’t bother you?”
“He’s saying that!” Thutmose pleaded. “I am certain he’s saying that!”
“I don’t mind, either…” The redheaded Alexis said next, nodding and looking around at nothing in particular. “Yeah, I think we can work with that… The band he set us up with bailed on us anyway, right? So… Music might help, and it’s not like the things we do step on each other’s toes, yeah? So whatever, I’m sure we’ll still leave a bigger impression.”
Cybil, then, pursed her lips. “If it doesn’t make a difference to you, then, and we’re all on the same page… But still, this is so very inconvenient.”
“Agreed…” Pineapples looked to Thutmose. “Be more responsible in the future, aye? I think even if you keep your job right now, you’re gonna be on thin ice for now. And give up on gambling, if it’s sunken you this far.”
Metra nodded. “Agreed. I can’t guarantee I won’t start looking for a new manager, but… You’ve been good to me, at least. Clean up your act.” Then, she looked over the quartet. “I’m seriously sorry about this… You say you had backup, but they’re not showing up now? I, uh… I don’t know what happened to whoever those were, or why they fell through, but I have something I can do to help both of your shows exist at once: six of the best stagehands I've got.”
At that, the star snapped her fingers, and from the shadowy corners of the room emerged two trios, three men in a pose one well-versed on incidents in the early 20th century Roman Colosseum might compare to Awakening One’s Masters appearing before the Masters of Funky Action, three women in turn also sliding in before the Judecca Highrollers in perfect sync, stepping in with the coordination one might associate with, as a weird example, teenage mobsters jazzed about a dude being sent to the ninth circle of hell.
All six were muscular, clad in black sleeveless shirts, leather gloves, pants, boots, and bandannas over their heads, and all around, they gave off auras of immense reliability.
“Harry, Mark, and John, and Thorn, Dusk, and Luna… I kid you not, these guys can basically do anything and everything you ask of them. If they didn’t much prefer supporting other people to being in the limelight themselves, they would be as big as I am. Treat them well, they’ll learn fast, and they’ll be invaluable to making your bits work. But, uh… I’d hurry it up. Guy and the Fieris probably only have a couple more encores in them, and then you’ll have fifteen to set up. I wish you all luck..!”
Metra Doria had been a bit of a miracle for the grateful performers and put-off older supporters, who had in turn both begun to explain their intended strategies and how those might change to their crew members, who understood alarmingly fast.
“Man…” Rudolf whistled in relief, chuckling. “What a scare that was… But you, Lexy? You’re alright, actually.”
“Thanks,” Alexis answered in turn, still trying to figure this guy out, “you don’t seem bad yourself… I almost kinda feel bad that we’re gonna totally eclipse you out there.”
“Y’think so, huh?” Rudolf answered with a grin, pointing forward with a friendly competitiveness. “Well, the party don’t get drowned out by a damn thing! I’m gonna get all these good people pumped as hell, and they’ll be cheerin’ for me even when that Metra chick goes on!”
“Ooh, I’m starting to feel a bit competitive…” Alexis answered, good-naturedly chuckling and folding her arms. “Wanna see who gets the crowd more pumped? Loser, uh… Buys the winner overpriced concert t-shirts. These things need stakes, right? Heh…”
At the somewhat tongue-in-cheek suggestion, Rudolf nodded. “Sure, yeah! That, and the pride of bein’ one of the best in the city! May the best team win!”
OPEN THE GAME!
Location: The Alexander Dickinson Amphitheater, one of the biggest outdoor venues in the entirety of the Metropolitan area, in the buildup to TD/MD’s headlining act, wherein both of your teams have had a performer set to open for her. The place is packed at a capacity of tens of thousands of people.
The stage is a competently designed semicircle which is roughly 30 meters across for length and maximum width, with plenty of room all over and the various necessary fixtures upheld off the ground. It is raised up about 2 meters off the ground. Its back half is partially covered by the overhanging roof of the backstage area a dozen meters above.
The backstage area spreads out about 10 meters from both sides and the back of the stage, being somewhat indoorsy and absolutely full of things one could expect an excellent stage production to have, including, of course, sturdy rafters which lead up to the ceiling area overtop the stage. Both sides have had time to arrange for some extra things to be brought in.
Goal: With a leadup of fifteen minutes before acts, and a half an hour where both of your performers are onstage at once, you have a show to put on, and that is not getting ruined by this overbooking. So, with Rudolf and Alexis up on stage, and Pineapples and Cybil each operating their abilities and managing a three-person stage crew, outperform your opponents!
Given the vastly different skill-sets of the competitors, the goal is to execute on your vision better than your opponent executes on theirs. You will be judged and voted on the following criteria, in decreasing priority:

• Feasibility - Whether your performance is actually within the bounds of what your Stand and Stats would imply.
• Skill Use - A close second in relevance; how well you integrate your User Skills and Stats into your performance. While your Skills will help in completing this objective, they do not provide an automatic advantage by merely existing and must be woven into your strats, as per usual. Even the best of artists can have abysmal live performances.
• Stand Use - Similar to the above, and similarly important. How cool, creative, and well-integrated is your Stand use. Put another way, wow the judges, voters, and viewers at home! This is more or less just the same as before.
• Environment Use - How well you use and integrate the auditorium - its features, its backstage, its stage, and the hearts and passions of its occupants - into your performance.
• Efficiency - How much quality footage you obtain and how well you use your time. This does not mean that setup for more complex performances is automatically penalized, but do try to minimize ‘deadtime’ and maximize the amount you perform.

Additional Information: There is a huge simp for TD/MD in the audience of the match, and he is connected enough that he will have both of you successfully and canonically killed if you ruin the show before the headliner can go on; therefore, murdering your opponents or audience members (“the ol’ Abraham Lincoln Tech” as they say in the biz) on an audience member is a loss condition. Not at all a moral thing for the record.
Stage Crew members for the respective teams (Harry, Mark, and John on the MFAs, Thorn, Dusk, and Luna on the Highrollers, if you care about their names) have 4s in strength, agility, endurance, Stagehand, and Backup; pretty much, anything their associated team asks them to do, they’ll be able to do, at minimum, competently. Though they won’t, like, murder for you. Generally you can use them for moving props on/off stage, extra bodies or on-stage back up performers, speaker and soundboard control, and/or on-stage camera crew as well as managing any other stage controls. Pretty much everything save for pyronetics and lighting is in their purview.
There are also dedicated lighting guys, totally neutral in your squabbles, who are going to do an entirely too good job adjusting their focus and making things work exactly as is needed so attention is on the stars of the show. They will also be coordinated with a third party camera crew that will be streaming the live feed onto screens for the audience. These feeds can be replaced or split screened with your own crew’s footage, but otherwise they will generally be in control of what is shown on-screen.
Players can be assumed to already have well-rehearsed their plans of action, the in-universe basis for the modified plans of the match, and have knowledge about every aspect of the stage, even if parts of their initial plan obviously need to be modified to account for new challengers also occupying stage space. If something performance related isn’t insanely, “years of training to do competently required” level hard, but would still require some practice ahead of time, they have had it to, at absolute max, somewhere between a 2 and a 3. Players, don’t overly-game this, though; the ‘stars’ of your performances should be the sheeted unique abilities of you, your skills, and your Stands.
All stands can be seen on camera and on the live feed for the audience's viewing pleasure.

Team	Combatant	JoJolity
Judecca Highrollers	Alexis Williams	“This one is for the guy who keeps yelling from the Balcony, and it’s called ‘We Hate You, Please Die.’” Gymnastics is a sport of rhythm and pace, this performance should be no different for keeping your momentum. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
Judecca Highrollers	Cybil Antoine	“Prepare to have your minds obliterated by… The boys! And Crash!” You have a whole crew of people working for you here, no need to do any heavy lifting by yourself. This is their job after all, better put them to work since that’s what they are here for. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!
Masters of Funky Action	Rudolf "Nureyev" Pavlova	“What is with this band? They’ve… changed. Have you noticed they don’t have instruments? Where’s all this amazing noise coming from?” Keeping the audience’s attention for a full 30 minutes should be a piece of cake for the world’s greatest dancer, you can keep the party rocking even between your different acts. Make as seamless transitions as you can between the acts of your performance!
Masters of Funky Action	Admiral Pineapples	“You and your fireballs and your demon hipster chicks / you’re talking the talk and it’s pretty slick / You think you’re so great, but you’re missing the point / You gotta have friendship and courage and whatever!” You’re all in this show together, you and your crew of stage hand. Everybody should be contributing here, no man left behind. Make the most use out of your stage hands in your performance!

Link to the Official Player Spreadsheet
Link to Match Schedule
As always, if you would like to interact with the tournament community and be among the first to get updates for the tournament, please feel free to PM a member of our Judge staff for an invite to our Official Discord Server!