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"Mmm-hmm. Is incendiary body fluids part of the process?" Jeez, that felt weird to say out loud. And stupid because he wasn't going to remember saying it in the first place. "It's so very odd. I can't help but wonder... if my universe had such deities, would the humans not have tried to play...

"You're preaching to the choir." Bahamut looked all of this over. It gave him vaguely ritualistic vibes. He'd led similar things before with bright lights. Always for healing or meditative purposes. Yet the golden fluid gave Bahamut the sense something about this was... twisted. A blight against...

"I would." Perhaps she'd be unresponsive, but Bahamut was banking his apparent 'species' to win him points that his teammates wouldn't get. That and the fact that the bulk of the team's opinion of her kept getting lower and lower thanks to the only folks around who were arguably grouchier than him.

"Hmm. Well, my trainer nicknamed the real me Sticky, but I don't think that flies here." Poipole tapped his chin. "Let's go with... Esper. Because I know Baha Blast would love it."

There was some sort of party going on, but Bahamut wasn't showing up. What point was there? It wasn't like his teammates liked him and it wasn't like the environment would help change that. Certainly not with the stone having become an enchanted spirit. So, he padded his way toward the big tower...

"Hmm. Well, if you want to put together a care package... talk to Prince Silver Spoon." Poipole pointed his head-needles at Icetales. "He set this whole thing up." Smirking, he produced a tiny goo crown on his head again. "It's not bad for a peasant masquerading as royalty." His hand widened to...

"Well, that's not charming and adorable at all!" Poipole flew up to Potluck's head crest, brushed his right hand against it, and licked said hand. "Ah. Huh, you do taste artificial. And here I thought some alternate Pop just wanted a kid." He put one arm up by his head and another by his waist...

"Huh." Poipole tilted his head. "You didn't strike me as the damsel in distress type." He zipped over to Potluck's head. "What was it? Ravenous guzzlord? Kartana swarm? Black hole? Nintendo's army of cease and desist lawyers?"

"Ooooh, sounds saucy!" Poipole leaned against Potluck's thigh. "So, what the deal, then? Lovers on the run? Former bandits turned good guys? Intergalactic buddy-cop duo where you're the fun-loving, donut-stuffing cop and Maple's the hardass, by-the-book stickler who needs to learn to have some...

Poipole had found a new object of fascination, poking one of the patches of scales on Potluck's hind leg. "So, like, are you Pop's bootleg?"

"Oh my god. Who shows up to a party just to exposition dump?" Poipole took one of the pieces of meat of his needle and plopped it on Shiron's head. "Here, eat something. Maybe it'll inspire you." And he flew off before anyone could respond.

Poipole made his presence known by using his middle head-needle to skewer several pieces of meat and float away with them. Bahamut was nowhere to be found.

"If that shade is supposed to be a manifestation of your psyche... then you will never convince me you're anything other than a hatchling." Bahamut strolled by Owen, with Poipole's goopy, flattened form wrapped around the black spikes on his right forepaw. Though there was a hint of sarcasm to...

It was not good. But Owen had taken enough of a verbal shellacking for one morning, so he pocketed that thought.

"No, this is a travesty!" Bahamut growled.

"Ah, I see I have a 'hater.'" Poipole pat Celeste's shoulder. His monotone voice returned. "Don't worry. Your displeasure only makes me stron— ack!" Bahamut crushed Poipole under a foreleg. "That will be enough of that." He glared at S'more. "When is Chip coming? I want an explanation...

Bahamut looked at Icetales. Oh no. Why did the kit have to open his mouth? He was priming himself for— no, wait, yup, Poipole was already in front of him. He puffed out his cheeks a gooey crown appeared on top of his middle needle. "My goodness! Baha, you didn't tell me you were keeping...

"Isn't it obvious? She wants OwO to feel like a big boy!" Poipole snickered into his hands. "Please stop," Bahamut growled.

"Unoriginal. Don't we have enough charmander here already?" Despite floating, Poipole lay on his side and yawned into his hand.

"Oh? You mean Darkwhite?" Poipole put his nubs against his face and rubbed vigorously. He suddenly had much brighter eyes with tiny purple bishie sparkles and a bigger smile. "I knoooow, right! At first, Baha Blast was so grumpity-grump I thought I was gonna turn into Braixen to make him more...