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It had been a long time coming, Ume’s return to Japan. Her trip to LA had certainly soured when the world ended around her (go figure); she was glad to be home, until she was starkly reminded of the terrors that awaited further out. At the very least, she and Dahlia were safe in this apartment building, one not dissimilar from the one she had been living in for the better part of her adult life. Still, she was deeply appreciative of the hospitality she and Dahlia had been offered.
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“A room sounds nice; if it isn’t an intrusion, I’d like to brew Dahlia and myself some tea.” She graciously requested, hoping to find a moment of normalcy; even their lunch before leaving had been unusual. Ume had been so caught in the prospect of both returning to Japan and meeting a group of likeminded entertainers, that she had lost track of Dahlia, her sisterly friend of Earth-chan’s domain, "Well don't let us keep ya; we'll be fine for a moment.” Together, Dahlia and Ume were perhaps some of the least troublemakingist people around. But before she left the two, Ume offered a polite bow, "Thank you for everything Ms. Sakuyuki. I'll do what I can to help, in any way I can."

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Oda’s weighted yo-yo had proved treacherous enough. When swung it crushed vehicles into a miserable flattened state. Ume felt as if that was more than enough; it did the job the race needed, giving her a dangerous advantage. However, her suspicions that this was, in fact, her Oda from Osaka were confirmed not just from her strong Kansai-ben, “Yer outta ‘ere!”, but from her rather audacious strategies. Perhaps most audacious was her creative use of the incredible tensile strength of her yo-yo; having wrapped the string around the neck of the large wyvern, she had swung it and its rider towards Ume.
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This not entirely happy wyvern was mostly unhappy with this argument. Flaring its wings, it slowed its descent, coming to a thunderous land behind Ume. Not finished with her–they were all its enemies–it fired off one of his massive, incredibly hot, and possibly very deadly blasts of fire towards the racing woman. Quick to react, and even quicker to take her eyes off the road, Ume slotted in her all-important rain cloud once more. While the summoned typhoon could not completely snuff out the flames, it offered Ume some respite. She had taken the full brunt. Her incredible newfound fortitude was stretched to its limits. Searing agony had overtaken her back, but she did not falter.
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Not finished yet, the wyvern yanked on the yo-yo. Oda, taken by unusual surprise, found herself at the end of her dirty trick. Once more, Ume was the target. Three attacks in such a short amount of time was too much–it was unfair. Having adequate preparation for once, though, she was able to twist her own trajectory, avoiding much of the brunt of Oda’s heavy assault. She could not avoid the string of curses–and insults–being hurled her way as Oda’s bike shattered beneath her, leaving her sufficiently defeated by circumstances outside of Ume’s control. There was no satisfaction in this, Ume would have to track her down later, perhaps so they could duel to the death under better conditions.
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Two attempted murderers weren’t enough for the wyvern and its continually irrelevant rider. Pushing through the Mystwood, the vicious wyvern clawed and snapped its teeth. Trees were tossed all around, forcing Ume to swerve and dart around in the crowded wood. Blind rage bubbled from the wyvern, its ravenous hunger trained onto Ume. While there had been no shortage of splitting wood, Ume noticed an uptick coming from their left. That much was recognizable–the train had refound its footing and was barreling through the woods. Shifting direction, Ume shot forward at a diagonal, wyvern hotter on her trail.
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Blasting straight through the woods and directly into the flank of the charging wyvern was none other than the trail, brought to a short end by yet another instance of something behind in its ways. Pushing the wyvern aside, the heavily battered train rushed ahead, blaring its cannons one last time. Ume examined their positing, and looked forward. Running numbers she came to the horrifying realization that this could end badly for Dahlia. Deliberately falling behind, she slowed to match the pace of the train, remaining just ahead of the cannon car. Empowering herself through the lens of [Lightning] she pulled herself up taking flight, she twisted herself so she may land onto the bed of the car. Twisting herself she shot towards the crank where one of the artillery dolls was on guard.
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Bayonet was aimed directly at Ume’s neck, she answered in kind with an electrical blast to the doll. Sparking to the ground, Ume used the strength granted by the bike’s inertia to painfully yank the crank back, “That should throw it off enough…” She doubted her logic; she had no formal education when it came to artillery. Heading to the back of the moving train, she shot directly up the shaft. The blowback offered by the weapon’s firing provided her with a terrifying amount of air. Clearing the forest–and her senses–she helped close the gap created by sudden missions of heavy-weapon sabotage.
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While she was immune to fall damage in this state, her poor motorcycle was not. Coming into contract with the ground, the poor vehicle let loose its sounds of suffering. Its last moments of life were squeezed for all they were worth; Ume would cross the finish line atop a vehicle, no matter the cost. Successfully her tire crossed the finish line, sputtering to a stop. Thick black smoke billowing from its exhaust and front lights Within moments of her abandoning the motorcycle, it too, erupting into terrifying flames, no longer in the rain’s soothing touch.
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Ume, her clothes smoking, and partially on fire, limped her way from the motorcycle. Heading towards Dahlia, she forced her camera onto one of the officiators, “Keep it at chest height, tilt upwards, 60 degrees. Do not get within 3 meters.” She curtly instructed, smoke leaving her mouth. Grabbing the other portion of the cup she issued Dahlia a thousand yard stare, “Let’s go for drinks”

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Completely fueled, Ume was able to focus her energy back towards driving off at the toppest of modest speeds she was able to exert. Taking full advantage of the now clear path ahead of her, and the speed offered by driving on ice she barreled forward at top speeds. For a moment, there was quiet in these mid rows. The wyvern had been dispatched, for a moment, and the train was reloading. While other cars were threatening and on occasion succeeding to overtake Ume, she was able to focus most of her attention on filming. Most impressive was the large snake–who also appeared to be racing. If they survived, perhaps Ume could strike a deal with them.
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Knocking her out of her depth was a sudden gleam of something small spinning object trained directly towards her head. A yo-yo swung her way, ducking down. She looked in amazement as said yo-yo collided with a car behind it, crushing it as if it had felt the weight of a cartoon anvil. Eyeing down the string she followed it all the way to a familiar raven haired woman atop of a vintage Yamaha. Ume’s eyes widened and her heart completely stopped–she absolutely recognized those flowing locks anywhere, and that snickering smirk. The woman on the other motorcycle took her eyes off the treacherous bog and shot a look directly at, “Ume-chan, good to see you.” She shouted with a warm earnest tone, "Sayonara sucker!” She elaborated, expressing further earnestly. Once more with considerable feeling, she swung her explosive yo-yo Ume’s way, detaching it from the string before she sped off.
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Unable to fully avoid it, Ume’s bike ended up with further dust and crucial pieces blown off. However, it was largely magical damage, which left her mostly alright. While still wearing embering clothes she uttered a meek, “...Oda?” Ume questioned under her breath, still not entirely sure. That distraction was enough that she nearly slid into the depths of the bog that arose. Redirecting she glanced around, getting a feel for all the sunken terrain. Thankfully, she didn’t have to consider long, as a message from Dahlia popped in just time offering a lesson of one of the dangers from Western folklore about.
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Speeding along, over logs, atop the backs of alligators. She was starting to enjoy herself. All that was abruptly taken away as the screech of the train’s whistle blasted through the woods. Finally entering the bog, the nose of the engine sunk right down–finding no room to maneuver. The speed at which it fell, however, didn’t give the tail end of the train time to realize that it had come to a full stop, yanking it awkwardly. The wisps had taken one eyeless look at that whole ordeal and simply floated away for a new set of victims. Setting her camera on the dash, Ume did her best ton pay the wisps no mind. She was no moth, bright lights didn't need to hold sway over her.
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Ahead of her, she saw a glyph appear straight ahead of her. Using the power of common sense, she altered her trajectory significantly avoiding it all together. Just as well, a car, which had previously been ahead of her was fired from said glyph smashing right into the bogwaters. More of these glyphs began popping up, launching more vehicles backwards. Examining one of the glyphs closely, she recognized the human-faced lion--the sphinx. Driving ahead she heard a preview between choking sobs, "But bricks are heavier than feathers..."
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Turning into a solid racetrack, Ume figured this was the time to reslot in the frozen lake, once she had gotten over the sharp turn that is. Dirty trick, of course, but it managed to disrupt a few of her current rivals. It was time for her send Dahlia her own message, "Warm up on your riddles, I think another challenge is ahead."

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A wyvern remained hot on Ume’s trail. Itss attempt to destroy Dahlia had been thrown off kilter; Ume’s summoned rainstorm and brought things to end, as rain was often accused of doing. Their mighty wings fought hard against the summoned wind, pounding rain, but its aggressively gnashing teeth still gleamed all the same. Finding some newfound burst of speed, it crashed into the ground with furor, stomping its way; its eyes firmly on the bold red jacket atop the dusty blue bicycle. Snarls followed Ume into the forest.
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Such snarls almost completely overtook the screeching roar of the train that lagged behind the two of them. Suffering the wind, and then the softened ground it struggled to remain relevant. Shots continued to ring out, smashing into random trees ahead, likely not meeting their mark. One miscalculation had finally arisen as the train came into contact with the treeline; it wasn’t exactly able to push its way the whole way through. While sure it could push its fair share of trees down, they began to lay flat, getting under the raw wheelset, slowing it to a further crawl.
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Ume, strained from driving thus far slowed down. Entering a meditative state, she began to refuel. Strange way of handling it, really. Taking advantage of this bit of breathing room provided by the downpour, she managed to get a bit of a leg up. Taking this brief respite as an opportunity to drive as horribly irresponsible as possible, she opened her inventory, and once more retrieved her camera. Keeping at least one eye on the road, she continued to fiddle with her settings. Tonight was a night for color; taking advantage of Motor City’s exuberant landscape.
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Avoiding trees, she caught ripples in the pools underneath. Steam arose, misting her mirrors and outside of her goggles. She knew exactly what was behind her, that much was obvious, it had been established quite a few times by now. Turning her camera on a side mirror, one that didn’t come with the express warning that objects may be closer than they appeared, she framed out the opening maw of the wyvern. It was derivative sure, but it was a once in a lifetime moment. Possibly.
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Coming to an abrupt stop, she narrowly avoided the blasting flames of the not-quite dragon. Propping her camera between the handlebar and the mirror, she once again grabbed her Superimposer. She had ended up in perfectly swiping range, and had yet to regain the capability to go full throttle. Slotting in the frozen lake, the trees around her and the wyvern vanished leaving them in the middle of a charming frozen lake. Allowing her bicycle to slide she made one last move before she would be struck–the lens of the Superimposer glow a bright blue before firing off a swirling snowflake.
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Ume took the hit, bracing as well as she could. Losing a mirror and gaining some pain she found herself sliding along, closer towards the finish line. Ice cold water blasted right back into the wyvern’s face, causing it to stagger.
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Slipping away, Ume realized she was coming into the path of an even more giant reptile, she took her camera in hand; she wasn’t going to go without capturing this. Her awe vanished upon hearing the thunderous roar of multiple large munitions being fired off at once. The train had found better footing on the ice, breaking it apart, and coasting along and ahead of her. Ume estimated that these arched shots were heading directly towards the leading few, where her buddy was facing her own perils, “Dahlia! Start swerving. There's an artillery barrage coming your way.” She exclaimed in party chat, offering an emoticon with a particularly concerned expression.

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Mission Details

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The seeds of the return of cinema had been planted firmly in Ume’s mind, and really, the stress of what that entailed followed suit. There were many missing and critical moving parts of the motion picture machine; most she couldn’t hope to replace any time soon. If she was going to get anywhere, however, she was going to have to rebuild from scratch. Ume had the drive, a camera and the inklings of a plan.
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Her mission–the real one–was simple and not terribly dangerous, far too many slimes in one too many places. Ume had a passion for Dragon Quest 7 in her younger days; she understood slimes well enough. Issuing an open LFG, she offered one key specification; she needed a swordwielder, one with a desire to test their mettle, and a willingness to be on camera. Ume had cut her teeth in the realm of chanbara, and if she was going to build towards becoming a filmmaker again, she needed to start where she was comfortable. A short silent bit of documentarywork was all she was after, a practice walk, as it were.
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Ume hadn’t yet gotten a reply, but she was nothing if not patient. Earth-Chan’s new world offered all sorts of new challenges, and her attempts to film the meandering gathering of slimes proved arduous. Those that weren’t blazing hot or emitting crackling bolts were far too shiny in the Los Angeles sun. Risking their aggression, she closed the gap far closer than she should have, for that all too important shot, one only aided by their assailing charge. A few burns and scrapes were hardly a concern, she had leveled up her vitality.
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Stakes established, she moved to shoot the grand entrance of the film’s hero, finding two columns of beach shrubbery she opened her menu, setting that as the waypoint for whomever accepted her open request. Taking a knee, she knelt at one end of the column, and tilted the camera up, keeping the horizon low in the shot. Having yet come into a tripod, she took shallow, meditative breaths to steady her hand. Ideally, her sword person would head this way, but there were far more available entrances for such a large area of beach. A woman could dream.

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As pleasant as Dahlia’s company may have been in the hours leading to the race, Ume was well aware that their time had been calm before the storm. She had worked some tight schedules for cheap B-movies; her nerves were on edge, ready for the utter calamity that was just around the corner. Per usual, she tried her best to not let it show too much, changing the subject with another tale from the set of another b-movie. She had hardly done a good job of hiding it, for she had a cigarette poking from her mouth from the moment they acquired the golf cart.
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Ume had been hanging partially out the golf cart, both so her smoking wouldn’t bother Dahlia, and so she could get a good lookout for what she was looking for. Today saw her dressing a bit more colorfully than usual; going for a black shirt decorated with hibiscuses of red and gold, and a smart red bomber jacket. Time was running thin. There was a race to be driven and already, Ume’s methodical pace was showing signs that perhaps this was not the sport for her. Ume’s did often fall into peculiarities, though, often not to too terribly inconvenient levels. To be her best self at this race, however, proved to be stalling the two a bit more than she would’ve liked. There had been no shortage of motorcycles, but none had been the one that Ume had been searching for.
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She was preparing to compromise–to settle, even. Giving in to the pending time limit proved painful, this race was far too important. In this moment of aesthetic despair something caught her eyes in the row of motorcycles. Wedged between modern and futuristic designs was a simulacrum of the vintage Honda she was looking for. Eyes going bright, she requested that Dahlia stop her golf cart. Taking a seat, she promptly summoned her interface, slamming her palm down onto the button, to ensure that there was no mistaking the fact that she had laid claim to this motorcycle. It certainly had its flaws, for no true explanation existed as to why so much dust was accumulated on it, while the others kept their showroom luster.
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In her city life, she usually didn’t drive; walking, and the train made up the majority of her travel. She only truly drove whenever she had to film in the countryside. While she drove a modest car, she often dreamt of working up the nerve to get herself a vintage motorcycle; an ever elusive fantasy she often kicked away from a lack of practicality. What was once practical had simply been tossed to the wayside. Donning her complimentary helmet and goggles, she pulled up by Dahlia, and thus, they were off.
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Lining up in the back row, she got one last look around, by way of her camera. In-the-action filming was the way to go here. They were stopped, Ume wasn’t completely uncomfortable watching exclusively through the camera’s viewfinder. Impressively, she had stumbled her way into an impressive shot; a large reptilian eye had swallowed the entire frame, looking into the viewer (her) with magnificent predacity. Looking up, she saw that the source of the eye was a dragon… or perhaps wyvern, ridden by a green haired woman. On either side of this newfound rival was another woman, sitting atop a Pegasus. Having filmed enough for now, she set the camera back into her inventory, and began preparations.
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4
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3
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2
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1
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GO!

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The hours between her encounter in the alley and the chase for her life that occurred down yet another alley were massively eventful, although none of those events held any relevance. Regardless, shots continued to be fired in her direction, some occasionally coming near to grazing on the ricochet. Driving behind a dumpster, she tried to make sense of this. For a moment the shots stopped, and she glanced over her shoulder, only to have one more shot ding the side of the dumpster, “You’re asking too many questions! What’s your angle!?”\The assailant shouted, as he continued missing.
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She had had enough of this, there were no ulterior motives; Ume really was just in search of a cat. Boldly, she stood up walking her way towards the gunman. The look she held in her eyes was enough to have him drop his firearm, and throw both his hands up in dismay, “It was Sammy the Snake, Joe Rags, and Big Angie, they’re the ones you want.” He admitted, although Ume wasn’t sure what he had admitted to, and she simply didn’t care. Getting closer, she invaded his sweaty personal space, nearly dipping her head low enough to go nose-to-nose. Once again, she repeated herself, “I won’t repeat myself: Cat. Three. Legs.” This gangster, barely able to make a shot, fainted.
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Throwing her hands in her pockets, Ume whistled one earworm of a tune. Without a lead, she was going to have to get creative. Not a single cat had come into view between her leaving that gin joint and her shootout. This adventure was entirely hopeless. That woman in that Gin joint, distraught over the loss of her cat was going to end up brokenhearted. If she had the guile to make a forgery the cat, she couldn't, for she didn't even know what color it was supposed to be.

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