Quoted By:
We’re all set, you answer as you give the fuzzthing one last scritch! One more thing before we head out, you add as your eyes sweep across your motley crew of misfits, and it’s IMPORTANT!
“<span class="mu-s">TEAM NAMES!</span>”
Err, no, you stammer as your planned statement is knocked clean out of your mouth by Volka’s enthusiastic interruption, you’re-
“I’ll throw ‘<span class="mu-s">TEAM MAAKAR</span>’ into the hat,” Morook states with a hint of pride in his monotone voice! “Fierce hunters. Practitioners of incredible pack tactics, or ‘<span class="mu-s">PACKTICS</span>’ as I like to call them!”
“Pfft, no <span class="mu-i">wonder</span> Lila thinks you’re a kook…” Snickers his half-sister as Rezalith watches with the usual disapproval.
“If we wish to strike fear into our foe’s hearts, the choice is a simple one:” The devil announces as she shoots you a sidelong glance! “We shall be known as…”
… Anton’s Face?
“<span class="mu-s">ANTON’S FACE! KYAAAHAHAHAHA!</span>”
Oti sends a haggard glance your way. “If you begin to ponder the faintest iota of a ‘<span class="mu-i">Team Name</span>’-”
No no, you interject with a shake of your head, you’re good! Guys, you repeat with a bit more oomph in your tone, you’re heading out–they know the drill!
“Right!” TT answers with a discordant strum of her Striilii, “Smith Street!”
Good to see <span class="mu-i">some</span>one’s listening! Morook straightens up at the Spinner’s strumming.
“You have a replica, right? Mind handing it over?”
Sure, you reply as your hands dive into your pockets, just gimme a s–wait… what the HELL!? Your eyes widen and your blood goes cold as you struggle to locate the <span class="mu-s">REPLICA BOMB</span>--did you DROP it!? Maybe during the encounter with the students, or?
“Right here, Ant~”
You indulge in an inward sigh of relief as Tzah-Tzie waves the item in question around in her claw, probably. You can’t see shit. Part of you wants to scold her for rooting around in your pockets, but you know better by now! Giving her a sneaky kiss on the cheek (and earning a trio on your lips in vile retribution), you turn to your favorite sorcerer and steady yourself with a sigh. Ready?
“No. Where exactly are we headed?”
D’OH! He’s <span class="mu-i">RIGHT!</span> That crazy girl never gave you an address! CRUD! Oti stares at you as if you’d just arrived at the fancy restaurant, but never booked the reservation. Answering you with a long, rattling sigh, the mage’s eyes head for the ceiling in contemplation!
“I should have expected this… do you know this woman’s name, at least?”
How would <span class="mu-i">that</span> help? The Chytree replies with a crackling hiss!
“Just… a name... Give it to me.”
Eerie, you think as the Chytree’s eyes continue to bore through your skull, but okay! Her name is, uh…
“<span class="mu-b">TOPPEL GRANSII</span>, Ant!”
Thanks, Tzah-Tzie. Did you get that, Ot–
>CONTD.
