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THE LOBBY:
gaia_star MOBS: Roll 1d6. This is the AMOUNT of mobs you spawn. Each mob has 5HP for a CUMULATIVE HP pool of 5 times whatever dice roll amount you spawned. Every time a mob is defeated, they do -5 auto damage to you! If you need help in your RP, remember you can tag it as SOS. If you are a Y1 student, they only do -2 auto damage.
gaia_star [ RARE BOSS SPAWN ]: If you are a final stage character, you can CHOOSE to spawn a rare boss. This is a shadow Horseman with a menacing figure at 60/60 HP and -5 HP damage a turn. Defeating it will ??? ??? (quote Zoobey).

He wanted to get out of here.

The memories of the place were hazy, confusing; Gale did not recall ever knowing about it before, and it did not help that he could have sworn he had had seen people that were not hunters moving about. He clenched the rifle more tightly in his hands, the weight of the weapon a comforting and familiar thing.

This is almost as bad as jungle, Gale thought, as he rounded a corner, and heard Jinhai snort musingly.

<< But not as bad as the Sahara. >>

Nothing is as ever bad as the Sahara.

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. Gale lifted the rifle instinctively and fired off a shot as an arrow zipped past his leg, whistling through the air noisily. It didn't catch him full on; he pivoted just in time, but a neat little scratch seared the fabric of his trousers and the skin beneath.

Any sign of - anything? Anyone?

<< Not yet. >>

Another figure, just up ahead. Gale fired off a second shot, and then a third when something else came abruptly down the hall towards him, something distinctly not human, his teeth gritted together as he moved through the lobby area.

Bloody hell.

<< I think I see something. >>



HP: 60 / 65
DMG: 19 - 6 = 13 + 2 = 15

MOB HP: 15 - 15 = 0

The mirror was a tall, spiky thing, black edged and thick. It looked more like it belonged in some old Victorian mansion than here in this empty lobby, Gale approaching it with a certain amount of wariness, his lips pressed together in silent concentration.

<< What is it? >>

Gale took another step closer, and then another, and then -

Deus.

He could see it now, see the island. The familiar white washed buildings, the faint fog curling around the mountains, the wide expanse of green that was the training field, the sandy brown of the beaches. The main building, the dormitories beside it -

- and Horsemen.

Gale made an inarticulate sound inside of his throat, teeth gritted together. He lifted a hand, pressed it to the surface of the mirror, and felt nothing but glass under his palm, Gale pressing harder, as though if he tried hard enough, he would somehow be able to push through and get to the island on the other side.

They were breaking things -

"No - "

Gale slammed a hand against the mirror. It shuddered, wobbled, but remained intact. He hit it again, and still it stayed as it was, mocking him, the glass surface clean and sharp, the images still there, still moving, the Horseman burning things -

He lifted the rifle and smashed the butt of it against the glass, which shattered instantly with a resounding crash that echoed in Gale's ears. Splinters and shards cascaded down around him, glittering with the colors of the lobby area, and he felt a sort of vicious satisfaction, his chest rising and falling.

And then, a second later, it was back together again. Gale stared at it, at the newly remade image, at the small figures of the Horsemen he could still see gathered on the island.

"No," said Gale. "No. Damn it."

He'd missed the damn thing, but Gale was already repositioning himself, darting to a farther side of the room to give him better access, better aim. He could hear Jinhai's voice inside of his head, a soothing sound, and squinted his good eye through the telescopic lens, teeth gritted together.


HP: 50 / 65
DMG: 9 - 6 = 3 + 2 = 5

MOB HP: 55 / 60

This was not going well. Gale hoisted the rifle up again, irritation flaring in his veins.


HP: 40 / 65
DMG: 13 - 6 = 7 + 2 = 9

MOB HP: 44 / 60

The chill of the icy bullets hung in the air. Gale could see his own breath, visible just in front of him, and dragged the rifle up again, running to yet another new spot in the lobby, another place for him to be able to set up the proper viewing, rifle lifted and aimed.

<< Hang in there. >>

I'm trying.


HP: 30 / 65
DMG: 10 - 6 = 4 + 2 = 6

MOB HP: 14 / 60

Damn it.

<< Almost. >>


HP: 20 / 65
DMG: 13 - 6 = 7 + 2 = 9

MOB HP: dead

He whirled around, stumbling a little in his haste, his chest rising and falling rapidly as Gale's eyes moved up to the figure. A breath was sucked in, sharp and painful, and he didn't like this; he was too close to her, and it felt like being too close to an oven, or maybe a fire, like a prickling heat that grew and stung the closer you stood to it.

"No," he said, and his wrist was throbbing. Gale swung the rifle up, pointed it directly at her.

"I'm not one of you."

He didn't fire. Yet.

"Let me out of here."