when youāre already gonna be slow w replies because youāre doing camp nanowrimo but then a k muse apps when you were thinking about kpro earlier todayĀ
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@fulminatingdarkness
when youāre already gonna be slow w replies because youāre doing camp nanowrimo but then a k muse apps when you were thinking about kpro earlier todayĀ

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gunheadedā:
āYou donāt need to worry about paying me, fon Ronsenburg. Iāve been here long enough to live through a couple of these catastrophes.ā A dry laugh escapes him at the unintentional pun.Ā āIāve already been turned into a monster. Whatever that little gremlin was talking about doesnāt scare me.ā
Suffice to say, heās not about to go out of his way to meet the Merrymakerās demands for entertainment. The gunhead would raise a brow at how well-equipped the other man is, if he had eyebrows. Heās not sure whether the state of being over-prepared is admirable or comical. A mixture of both, really.
āSo, whoāre we meeting? Friend of yours from your world, or someone you met here?ā He strikes up a casual conversation as they walk, hand in the pocket of his jacket.Ā āYou look and talk pretty medieval, if you donāt mind me saying.ā
ā ⦠⦠ā¦Ā Basch doesnāt laugh at the pun, but he does cast the metal man a glance. Already heās making a line for the ward entrance, and feeling more comfortable with his impromptu partner by the second.Ā ā I see. Iāll not forget your aid, regardless. ā
A change in the atmosphere strikes him the second he crosses over the boundary. A tangible tension combined with the appearance of his catculator upon scarred wrist. Basch grunts, an uneasy noise. Verbally, the change goes unacknowledged.Ā ā A viera by the name of Fran. She is being hunted as we speak-- I doubt she will be easy to find even once we arrive at the proper location. Nonetheless, she will be a valuable ally. ā
The mall is his destination, little time spared for the balloons milling around. Basch withdraws his blade and strikes at a white one that happens across their path. Just as effortlessly, he destroys a black one too. Thereās no time to waste avoiding them.Ā ā ...medieval? ā Baschās voice is surprised some.Ā ā I have put many a year into sharpening my Dalmascan dialect, I suppose. There was once a time I worked closely with royalty-- fine speech is a necessity. ā
He spots it as they round a corner. Conversation flicks from casual banter to quiet and cautious in the blink of an eye.Ā ā Take heed. The hunters-- three of them-- they are likely still afoot. ā
ā ⦠⦠⦠Azalea is left at home for this outing. As pleasant as the beach is, with all its amusements and hubbub, he knows that the dog isnāt ready for such chaos. So Basch sits by his lonesome near the boardwalk-- the actual one mind you, not the theme park-- and waits. She arrives not too long after, green hair separating her from the rest even at a distance. Basch stands with a small, demure smile.Ā ā Tiki. I am glad you were able to come. ā
@divinemisted
Tree smash! Tree kick!Ā
vieranosā:
To: Basch SENDER: Fran
{SMS}: Thereās half a bundle left. But not much longer. I will handle them but hurry.
TO: Fran FROM: fon Ronsenburg, Basch
TXT: Sooner rather than later. Understood. I am on my way to meet with another. A man named Inui who also responded to my call. Provided he is still willing to enter given we are only two, we will be entering within the hour.

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gunheadedā:
āIām a one man army, buddy. Donāt need anyone else.āĀ The gunhead thumps his fist over his broad chest. He may be missing a limb, but he carries himself with the ease of someone well-adjusted to the disability. āPoint me in the direction of trouble, and Iāll flatten it.ā
āJust make sure you stay out of my way while Iām doing the flattening, yeah?ā
Jyuzo drops his cigarette, grinding it out beneath his heel as he turns sharply. He raises his hand as if to shield his vision and scans the horizon.Ā āLetās get going, then. Should be easy enough to grab some of those balloons along the way.ā
ā ⦠⦠ā¦Ā Ā ā Very well. Iāll take note. ā Heās glad for the enthusiasm.Ā ā Ideally, the three of us will maintain a near equal count. The circumstances will not be ideal, however.Ā āTis my intention to lend aid to those caught unwillingly in the catās midst... I will not ask you to sacrifice your own count... but I do ask that the balloons be left to those who need it most should the situation call for it. ā
This is the worst part. Asking others to put their lives on the line. Basch inhales, holding his gaze with the other, and then turns to retrieve a hiking backpack and a duffel bag from the curb. He also slings a pair of bows over her shoulder. Nothing to a warriorās standards, but between recreational archery equipment and nothing, heās certain Fran prefers the latter.Ā ā I will find a way to repay you for this should I emerge intact. I am... relieved to have numbers. ā
@ EVERYONE I SWEAR IT WASNT A SPONGEBOB REFERENCE AT THE TIME WHCIH MAKES IT ALL THE WORSE NOW
1000% unrelated to anything curerntly happening but i need the world to know iāve had this in my drafts for 2 years now and i still dont know what i was going to write
vieranosā:
To: Basch SENDER: Fran
{SMS}: No different here. People are killing each other. Being pursued by 3 humes wanting my points. I am in hiding until they separate.Ā
{SMS}: Arrows and weapons. Lots of them.
TO: Fran FROM: fon Ronsenburg, Basch
TXT: Exactly as I had thought. Your current stock of ammunition-- how long will it last? TXT: I will adjust our time of entry accordingly.
gunheadedā:
TO: fon Ronsenburg, Basch FROM: J. Inui
TXT: if anyone is dumb enough to believe what the cat says Iāll gladly beat them up TXT: See you in five
True to his word, he arrives within the aforementioned timeframe. Towering head and shoulders above most of the assembled crowd, his metal jaw illuminated by the faint glow of a cigarette, heās hard to miss.
Despite his monstrous appearance, his voice is surprisingly neutral when he calls out:Ā āIām looking for a fon Ronsenburg?ā
ā ⦠⦠⦠He is quick to weave through the crowd. Comically short in comparison to the walking gun, of course, but he carries himself with a sharp authority to compensate.Ā ā And you have found him, ā Basch replies, bowing his head. So this J. Inui wasnāt kidding when he said he described himself. There is a slight awe aglow in his tired eyes, but other than that, there are more important things to prioritize.
ā So far you are the only one who has heeded my call for aid. If the numbers discourage you, I will not force your hand. You may leave if you so desire-- Iāll not hold it against you. ā So many years away from the battlefield, but with lives at stake, he assumes his commanding voice almost as naturally as he used to.Ā ā Otherwise, weāve a contact within the Golden Ward at the present. That will make three once we arrive at her location. ā

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when ya muse is buzzing all over the place making plans and trying to organize massive plans and youāve been basically braindead for a week...im cryin in the club but a girlās gotta do what her baschās gotta do
vieranosā:
To: Basch From: Fran
{SMS}: I am already here. Find me at the place calledĀ āthe mallā. Plenty of those floating things to take down.
{SMS}: Be careful. They will see you a threat.
TO: Fran FROM: fon Ronsenburg, Basch
TXT: How goes it? From here, it appears chaos.Ā TXT: Regardless, Iāll not be long. We will rendezvous with you immediately after entry. Need you anything from the outside whilst I am still able?
gunheadedā:
TO: fon Ronsenburg, Basch FROM: J. Inui
TXT: Organized movement? TXT: i donāt think you need an army to fight balloons but sure. why not TXT: Where are you? iāll swing by to help. Iām the tall one with a gun for a head
(Whatās with the flowery speech, thoughā¦? Maybe theyāre a poet.)
TO: fon Ronsenburg, Basch FROM: J. Inui
TXT: You are correct; the creatures are of little concern. TXT: But the rules have been made clear. Cold-blooded slaughter is not only acceptable, but encouraged for the sake of personal gain. TXT: I am all but certain there will be some desperate enough to resort to such measures. TXT: By the entrance to Golden from Cotes. Forces will be gathered there, and I will ensure weāve supplies enough to cover the needs of all willing to enter the ward.
savioremā:
Gratitude is great but it means shit if this guy dies right after they both put everything on the line to save the lady still on the table. He groans in partial frustration, easing the other further back against the chair for full support. He can be thankful this wounds were nowhere near as severe or he definitely wouldnāt have been able to save them.
Guess they both had somethinā to be thankful for tonight, huh?
Heās careful gettinā the wound properly dressed and threaded up for a good close, fingers twitching against the discomfort of sweat lodged between his fingers, trapped beneath medical gloves. Finally moving away, he strips them into the nearest disposal before wrapping Baschās arm firmly. All set.
āNah.. Pretty sure youāve earned a solid, pal. Only gonna charge you for one. Itās the life thatās worth not the pay.ā
ā ⦠⦠⦠ā You are certain? ā Basch asks in the aftermath of it all. He flexes his arm a little, gauging his range of movement and sense of pain now that it has been stitched and bandaged. He has faced far worse, however, and is relieved that this is just another light scar to add to the bunch.
ā You are a good man. I would ask the honor of knowing your name, at the very least. ā He stands with a slight grunt. Drawing closer to the woman on the table, he rests his good hand on the edge of it, looking her over with solemn eyes. He turns then to his phone, opening up the proper application to send off the appropriate payment to the establishment whenever it is given. Basch even shows the medic his screen, a visual prompt that he is ready.
TO: All FROM: fon Ronsenburg, Basch
TXT: I seek those willing to brave the state of affairs in the Golden Ward. I do not wish to see those without the power to defend themselves left stranded in the midst of this pandemonium. However, to charge in blindly serves no benefit for anyone. I hope to band together with anyone willing to lend their arm. An organized movement.

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Reksās death.
notquitepurevesselā:
Oh? A response!
[From:Ā š©āļø To: fon Ronsenburg, Basch]
[Text:] I am still up for a fightt yes [Text:] I will take up your offer [Text:] you will know when i arrive [Text:] as i am large bug like being
Citizens of Spirale beware, Hollowās running at full-speed from Fibonacci Ward to Golden. They find the hall before long, and only get their horns slightly stuck on the frame before rememberingĀ āoh yeah, I can crouch to get through these doors.ā
There is now a large bug sitting cross-legged in the middle of a sparring field. They appear to be meditating.
TO: š©āļø FROM: fon Ronsenburg, Basch
TXT:Ā Then I will be along shortly.
ā ⦠⦠⦠He is not as deft as Hollow. Door is shut and locked behind him only when heās fully dressed in his makeshift Dalmascan armor, cloak clasped around his neck, sheath filled with a true blade, wooden mockery in the other. Thereās no telling what kind of spar this individual is after, so all bases are covered.
When he enters through the training hall doors, itās only natural that he recognizes the stranger on sight. Of the many races of Ivalice, they bear resemblance to a few, but the traits of a monstrous insect are new. Basch approaches, coming to a halt a few paces away. He lowers his wooden sword to the ground. Point balances on the ground while hands rest on the hilt. Waiting for the end of the meditation. If itās a while, he will simply close his eyes too, but regardless, he stands a motionless mountain.