Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20171014200716/@comment-27661770-20171015062625

Fliqpy walked back to the mas group of heroes. More and more were visible as he grew closer.

Like Doctor Ivo Robotnik and his lackey Snively, two former villains that had been forced by necessity- in the form of .EXE providing one of THOSe threats- to arm up and work with the resistance groups he had sought to exterminate for so many years. Both had known the receiving end of a more powerful army thanks to that, and sweet, sweet victory and the repercussions of finally beating back the evil. They were still plotting out Rbotnik's role and tyring to find Sally Acorn- she'd gone missing- but that could be resumed when the Red Army was dead.

Or Nicole Watterson and son Darwin, mother and child who were almost dead severl times. All they wanted to do was get back home to Elmore and tell Richard, Gumball, and Anais they hadn't abandoned them after all. Nine years did a heart no good for homesickness...

Or even the last-name-less Yuki, more colloquially the Prisoner. She still had to kill the president of Omodo bank, the genera that executed her, and the judge that ruled it to happen. Being a vampire was tough, even if she was one of the greenest members of the group- about the tenth of about over a hundred.

Or even Grif, almost literally a knight in shining gold armor. He'd mostly knnown idiots only existed on your team and was elated to discover that srometimes you fought with smart people too. He wanted to return to Blood Gulch, but it had been a good month. Who KNEW what Sarge, if he had lived to see the Void "die", would do to even accidental deserters? Or Simmons? Or even borderline harmless Donut? Hell, he didn't even trust Lopez to be all that good, although who the hell spoke Spanish anymore?

Or maybe, just maybe, the Storyteller Scott Cawthon. He'd been here from the start and he was going to see it to the fucking bitter end. He may not write the story anymore, but you didn't have to be the author to be the storyteller. It juts so happened that when he found Kira he'd help the author. Kira was good with putting visuals into words. Him, not as much.

Or, and possibly a bizzarre entry:Mike the mouse. Just before the first jailings, the Frank Sinatra-loving talented jerk had been thrown with the heroes. If he got into the base, he could gnaw the wires out. His size wasn't only a curse...