+- Omni Archive (https://omni.zulenka.com)
+-- Forum: The Omniverse (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=4)
+--- Forum: The Dante Verse (https://omni.zulenka.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=37)
+--- Thread: Day One: Part 1 (/showthread.php?tid=1559)
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Karl Jak - 05-27-2015
Face to Face
#22 Neal vs #40 Tartaros
#22 Neal vs #40 Tartaros
Neal had missed his opportunity to get revenge against the Pokémon with the nail gun, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be prepared for the next situation. With his amalgam of gridiron, carboard, and Uno cards gripped in his right hand, he made his way from the diner as the sun started to reach its apex in the sky overhead. In his left hand, the man they call Neal had a chunk of wood with more Uno cards glued over its business end.
He didn’t care that he was probably supposed to use the cards for games or something entertaining. No… they were going to serve a damn purpose even if he had to force them to do so.
After walking until he came to the edge of a city, Neal came to a stop. As he did, he heard a gruff voice somewhere up ahead amidst the structures.
“Silence!”
The voice was garbled, but Neal was able to creep forward until he spotted the…
Space marine? A space marine?
With a scowl, Neal crept a little closer, but when he finally got a better view than the marine’s backside, he realized that the Adeptus Astartes was addressing a doll made of what seemed to be socks. A closer look showed that said sock puppet was Mr. T.
This is getting stupid.
Hoping to atone for his first encounter with an enemy prime, Neal rushed forward and swung the Uno cudgel at the marine’s head. The improvised weapon found its mark and summarily blew apart upon hitting the metal material that encased Tartaros’ skull.
“Who dares!” Tartaros snapped as he spun around and swung at Neal with a handless stump. The man threw up the Uno shield and grimaced as the limb crashed through the shield and smacked him in the side of the head. Discarding the sock puppet, the space marine’s collar flashed as he willed his bolter rifle and opened fire on Neal from point-blank range, catching him in the leg. As the man yelped, Tartaros stepped forward and delivered a vicious kick to his opponent, knocking him to the ground.
“Any last words?” Tartaros muttered.
“Yea…” Neal replied as he sat up and pointed his index finger at the space marine as if it were a gun. The collar around the man’s neck flashed in response. “Bang.”
Neal’s thumb fell down, and with a whoosh, the mind bullet shot forward and connected with the space marine’s chest, lifting the Adeptus Astartes up off the ground and throwing him through the front window of what seemed to be a small toy store. A beat later, the little building collapsed in on itself, burying Tartaros and a few hundred dollars’ worth of cheap plastic toys and stuffed animals beneath a tomb of concrete, glass, and wood.
[spoiler]Tartaros has used Tier 0 Super Move Tigrus Pattern Bolter (-1 SP)
Neal has used Tier 0 Super Move Mind Bullet (-1 SP)
Neal has a bolter wound in his right shin – Minor Injury (+3 Damage)
Tartaros will emerge with a broken leg and a slight concussion – Major Injury (+7 Damage)[/spoiler]
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Gilgamesh - 05-27-2015
Gilgamesh tapped his foot as he waited for Jon as he begged to stop for the broken woman. She was of no use to them and he felt the need to help her? He saw them attempt to stand and at once began to take his leave. The faint words, “Your Highness” perked his ears as he grumbled at the name of another “Royal” member. Damned thieves. He was the only King ever to have occurred in history, all others picked up his leftovers and claimed it for themselves. The King couldn’t tolerate those people and would punish those who claimed Kingship for themselves. However he was weak in this world, he raised his arm and clenched his fist in anger. His nails were digging into his skin, how could he be robbed again. He glanced back to see Jon Snow walking with the so called Queen of her People.
Although the Omniverse did bring in people like Guu who was beyond his realm of recognition. What was she...Gilgamesh peered into her and stared as Jon continued to catch up to him. He already had what he needed, the woman was not of his planet. She was queen of an entirely different species...The King smirked as the woman passed by limping and she gave him a weird stare while Jon was more grateful.
“Thank you my grace for waiting, I appreciate your patience.” Jon’s eyes glinting with a hope that the King had a sense of compassion. A smile that told Gilgamesh that he really cared about how people ended up and almost as if the man had a sense of honor. Gilgamesh returned the man an honest smile, this man was much better than he had expected. How valuable Crona had been before was now ten times greater. As Jon passed with the queen his honest smile turned into a malevolent grin and his crimson eyes widened with excitement. How easy it will be to mill the dogs that opposed him.
From inside his duffel bag the incessant pony had finally chosen to slumber and become quiet. Or well...not speaking. A loud snoring came from his duffel bag and destroyed his maniacal dream. The King frowned and he began to walk along with the two that he had to back him up, his footsteps crunching underneath the dry dirt that lay beneath his feet. He glanced back up towards the sky, the orange hue helping Gilgamesh relax and enjoy the event. Bloodshed and beauty, how could this get any better?
Snoring was not the answer to that question. Gilgamesh did not know what was worse: An awake Deadpony or an asleep one. The walk was horrendous and Gilgamesh could not see anything but extended mazes of trees. His own feet were tired and he plopped on his knees and his duffel bag hit the floor unceremoniously. A distorted series of noises came from the bag as Deadpony popped out, rubbing his eyes.
“Man was this duffel bag heavy…We shall lay here for the time being.” Jon passed by almost glaring in exhaustion as he plopped down the unconscious Queen. He laid her next to the broken log that lay next to the group as they finally found somewhere to sit. The two sat there in soft silence as Deadpony was still waking from his peaceful nap.
“She isn’t a bad person you know.” Gilgamesh looked at the man in confusion. “Blackfire, the queen I mean. She isn’t a bad person and I know Kings don’t like other royalty but she isn’t bad.”
The King searched through his duffel bag for a water bottle mumbling when he was searching. “I never said she was bad. She isn’t from this planet, so she rules something that is beyond my realm. I still think it’s a bad idea to bring her along though, she’ll allow the mongrels to have a fair chance when they ambush us.” Jon stood up, obviously distressed about the situation.
“I know it isn’t strategic but I cannot let someone who asks for my help to just lay there and die. It isn’t human, I don’t care if we win this game if I lose myself in it.” His eyes widened with fear and a bit of sadness as he hoped this game would not change him. Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow at Jon, his morals had kept him sane this entire time. He raised and took Deadpony from his bag with the stuffed animal making lots of...noise in his retrieval.
“AGH ASSHOLE! Why! AGH I WAS GETTING UP!” The pony protested as it was drawn out of the bag. He held onto one of his legs as he pointed at Jon with the other hand.
“Rise Jon from your seat.” His kingly voice shot forth automatically rising Jon from his seat and onto his knees. It was almost like clockwork as if he had done this before. Gilgamesh slowly walked over smirked at Jon.
“My my this is all very unproper, however I think your aptitude and unquestionable loyalty deserves something rewarding from my end.” The King looked around haphazardly as if he didn’t want this ceremony to be stopped. Jon raised his eyebrow almost as if he didn’t know what was going on.
“Repeat after me. I Jon Snow” The man hesitantly repeated after the King.
“I Jon Snow”
“Swear Fealty to King Gilgamesh and will defend all citizens of his Kingdom. To protect his land and his people and to never stray from my path due to danger. Those who dare threaten our lifestyle shall be my sworn enemies and I shall always remain true and keep my honor and loyalty to my Kingdom above all else.” He hesitantly repeated after Gilgamesh, almost as if the words were a binding contract that inhibited his every movement. At the end it seemed as if he had realized what this was.
“I King Gilgamesh swear to protect you as my vassal and I hereby knight you Sir Jon. Rise my Knight of Honour, you have been granted one of the highest honors I could give you. You have influence in my Kingdom and have pedigree in my land.” The King used Deadpony as a makeshift sword, knighting the kneeling woodsman with a plushie.
“I am honored your grace.” His knight rose with a smile on his face and with a newfound sense of pride in his heart. All according to plan.
Day One Hell - Alain the Carnedge - 05-27-2015
Alain emerged from the river choking on his own blood, only barely digging the claw that was his left hand into the ground beside him and slowly pulling himself out from the water. The mercenary knew that he was effectively dead already, but kept going regardless. Pure willpower and adrenaline was the only thing keeping him alive, and he knew it. His right arm was effectively dead, his clothes had nearly merged with his flesh, and breathing alone made him feel like he was drowning in his blood. He was just glad that he couldn't feel the pain. Alain managed to crawl into the shade and rest against a tree, coughing as he did so.
Just like that, his chances at winning the Abyss went straight to hell. Missiles and..some weird, magic energy ball launcher had almost killed him outright. The mercenary felt a twinge of guilt now that he'd realized how much of a shitty situation he'd put that green-haired guy in. He could now relate, and it felt bad. Not bad enough that he'd die, at least not yet. But soon. It wasn't long until he'd perish, now. But all the same, his rage kept him conscious and just alive enough that he could analyze his situation.
He could barely breathe. His bag was gone, taken by the other two. But simply waiting to die was out of the question. Alain spat out blood and started to limp away, regretting his reliance on the ball more than ever. All that was needed was a single wrong move, and it was over. His luck had failed him. All that was left was for him to encounter one foe, and his time in Dante's Abyss would come to a close. Alain knew that, but he pressed on anyway. He himself didn't know why, or what he'd do with the pathetic amount of strength he had left. All he knew was that he didn't want to die like a coward, sitting by the river waiting for the end.
His vision blurred, but he limped onwards. The mercenary kept pushing himself on to a destination that he himself didn't know, as the other two had taken his map, and the compass. Alain gripped the Pokeball with his left hand and tried to walk normally. He felt like he was going to vomit, but the lack of pain made walking a lot easier. It was all he could hope for that he wouldn't drown in his own blood. The only way he'd survive was from an alliance. Or managing to kill somebody using medical equipment, but it was more likely they'd punch him in the face and he'd keel over instantly. The only thing he could do was keep walking...and hope hell didn't have enough room for him yet.
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Karl Jak - 05-27-2015
Face to Face
#10 Alain vs #25 Jak Mar
#10 Alain vs #25 Jak Mar
How long had it been?
Probably minutes, but for the mercenary, every step felt like it took an hour.
His vision blurred in an out of focus as he limped. In an attempt to steer safe, he’d abandoned the network of roads that ringed the exterior of the island. With any luck, he found find someone quiet and wait out some of the competition. He’d been lucky up until his run-in with the wizard and the bounty hunter… if he could just keep alive until the sunset, he could stealth under some rocks and sleep away some of the agony.
Unfortunately for Alain Velgr, his path intersected with that of Jak Mar. The big-eared man opened his mouth to say something, but the mercenary couldn’t hear quite so well. With a thunk, the Pokeball hit the ground and popped open, spilling out a mass of shining light that faded to reveal a large brown Pokémon with a giant mouth and a pair of pincers jutting out over his head. The angry-looking pocket monster rushed at Jak Mar, who was fumbling for something in his bag.
Pinsir’s pincers clamped around Jak’s arm, and with an audible crunch, the limp snapped backward at a forty-five degree angle. As horrifying as the monster’s attack had been, it had failed to reach the man before the bundle of explosives went airborne.
Alain Velgr watched, unsure whether he should feel angry or relieved, as the dynamite twirled and twisted through the air as it came toward him.
Before he could make up his mind, the dynamite erupted, and the mercenary didn’t have to think anymore.
[spoiler]
#10 Alain Velgr DEAD
42 Primes Remain
42 Primes Remain
Alain rolled a ‘3’
Jak Mar’s left arm is broken – Major Injury (+6 Damage)
Jak Mar has 1 bundle of dynamite remaining
Jak Mar has the Pokeball[/spoiler]
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Galel Baraz - 05-27-2015
With a heavy thud, Galel's adamntium covered foot hit the road and stopped his momentum. The armour-clad psyker gazed up at the towering structure before him, smirking. His third eye poured over every detail, taking in all the information it could. It will make for a fine fortress. Galel thought to himself, ascending the steps that led to the structure's door. The entire building was immaculate, far from what he'd expected from a warzone. The timber walls of the main building and the stone tower above were both painted a stark white, standing out against the slowly brightening night sky. Had he not known to look for it, he probably would've noticed it anyways, not to mention the bright beacon atop the tower.
Alpha, OmegaLamba. Galel thought as he opened the door to the structure, taking a look at the inner layout. Not the optimum set-up for defence, but Galel doubted that the structure was built as a stronghold anyway. The beacon atop, and the coastal location indicated it's purpose rather clearly. Regardless, it seemed relatively empty. Galel mentally noted where he could set traps or ambushes if needed as he headed to the tower at the rear of the building. The steps were some kind of rock-based substance, not unlike rockcrete. Perhaps a primitive version? Galel speculated as he climbed the tower.
The top was brightly lit by the beacon, which seemed to turn slowly, shining it's light out to sea. It wouldn't take too much effort to point it the other way in order to flood the path with light. Galel looked down the path, then up at the towering mountain of the island. I should go. He thought, then descended the steps in the tower. When he reached the door, Galel stopped. He reached down and grabbed a twig he had tracked into the building. Closing the doors, he wedged the twig between them. There, at least we will have warning when we return. He thought, turning and heading out. The road was long, but he'd make the journey if it killed him...
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Karl Jak - 05-27-2015
Face to Face
#40 Tartaros & #31 Okor vs #12 Dr. McNinja & #42 Delsin Rowe
#40 Tartaros & #31 Okor vs #12 Dr. McNinja & #42 Delsin Rowe
For six hours, the trio had been locked in a stalemate over who would rule the clinic.
Despite having a numbers advantage, Delsin Rowe and Dr. McNinja wanted nothing to do with the plague marine that patrolled the hallways, but even so, the new pair of friends didn’t want to pass up a chance to uproot the marine and take over the place for themselves. In the hours since the first scuffle, Okor had turned the once humble clinic into something closer to a fortress, with the gurneys and chairs crushed or reshaped into hedgehogs and barricades.
***
On one such patrol through the corridors of the clinic, Okor spotted the two outside the barred window. The plague marine scowled—he wondered why they didn’t try to force their hand. He’d seen them surveying the place all day, so unless they were truly simpleminded, they had to have found some sort of point where they could force an entrance. Were they waiting for reinforcements? Did they have a means to communicate with their allies that Okor lacked?As he watched the pair scheme, Okor saw movement beyond their position, and a beat later, the situation changed entirely.
***
He was bruised and bloody.One of his hands was gone, and one of his legs was snapped inside his power armor. Despite knowing that his time was nearly up, the marine willed himself forward. He knew where his comrades had told him to rendezvous, and there was no way that he would perish with them believing he had failed to search for them.
But Tarataros Castus was an Adeptus Astartes!
The space marine once again summoned his bolter and charged the two men standing outside the clinic.
Delsin Rowe and Dr. McNinja were both taken by surprise by the battered, bloodstained suit of armor rushing at them and spewing automatic fire in their general direction. The graffiti artist threw himself out of the way as his associate brandished his clawed glove and sprung forward in a blur. Much as he had treated Okor, McNinja appeared a few yards behind Tartaros, but before the doctor could shout the phrase, he furrowed his brow at the sight of cotton all over his claws.
Tartaros looked down to his side and saw that Mr. T was missing half of his body.
“No!” The space marine screamed, unsure what exactly came over him as he turned around and fired a quick succession of bursts into the man in the ski mask. As McNinja hit the ground with a groan, Delsin leapt forward to protect his friend. The young man, using the only ‘weapon’ he had at his disposal—his duffel bag—smacked the space marine in the side of the head.
For someone who had survived an amputation, a snapped limb, and a building falling on top of him, Tartaros almost laughed as Delsin reeled back for another swing. The marine leaned forward and smashed the barrel of his weapon against Delsin’s skull. Before the fatal shot could be made, Dr. McNinja sprang up and stabbed his claws through an opening in Tartaros’ battered power armor. Yet more blood bubbled out of the suit as the beleaguered marine threw and elbow at the doctor’s face and followed up with a frantic swipe with his bolter.
With that, Tartaros stumbled backwards and collapsed onto his metallic haunches. In front of him, Delsin and McNinja were regaining their bearings and planning to end the injured marine.
They would have succeeded if not for the plague marine that burst out from the clinic door. Okor had no assault rifle, so he ran with all his might and managed to get in-between his comrade and five metal knives that stabbed through his diseased flesh and down to the bone. A lifetime of never feeling pain was the only thing that gave Okor the fortitude to punch Dr. McNinja in the face.
The good doctor stumbled backwards and put a hand up to his mask, afraid that he’d have to deal with more of the pestilience. When his hand came back clean, he motioned for Delsin to retreat, and the two primes fell back into the forest surrounding the clinic. They didn’t plan to go anywhere, and it was clear that the two marines weren’t going to get much further.
Live to kill another day.
[spoiler]Tartarus has used Tier 0 Super Move Tigrus Pattern Bolter (-1 SP)
Dr. McNinja has used Tier 0 Super Move Base! (-1 SP)
Okor has five deep lacerations in his abdomen – Major Injury (+6 Damage)
Delsin has a fractured skull – Major Injury (+6 Damage)
Dr. McNinja has a bruised jaw – Minor Injury (+2 Damage)
Tartaros has a small stab wound – Minor Injury (+2 Damage)
Mr. T has been cut in half =([/spoiler]
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Mickey Mouse - 05-27-2015
“Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!”
“Hold still!” Erza spat. She lightly dabbed the dampened map on one of Mickey’s burns, trying her best to soothe the mouse’s wounds. The pair had gotten lucky; being so near the coast, they had easy access to some relatively cool water. Unfortunately, the mouse had not taken very well to the treatment, but then again, situations like this were not exactly his forte. He tried to avoid violence as much as possible, and in the rare occasions where he had to fight people, he had always been able to rely on his keyblade. With that missing, adaptation came less easy.
“Who even was that guy?” Erza asked, trying to steer Mickey’s attention off of the pain for a few seconds. With any luck, she’d be able to help out if he could put his mind somewhere else.
“I don’t know,” the mouse shrugged, “but he knocked over my chili.” The mouse frowned as he looked down at the charred MRE. He had been able to eat most of it before the weird pale guy had snuck up on them, but not quite all of it—and every last bit counted! He had been hungry, goshdarnit.
Mickey’s gaze shifted to where the mysterious man had slipped back out of sight. They had certainly beaten him down, but… where had he gone? He had sent that flurry of energy blasts at them, and by the time the pair had released each other from their defensive embrace, he had disappeared without a trace. A team with a penchant for violence might have pursued their enemy, but Mickey and Erza had, instead, focused on making sure each other was okay.
The mouse glanced up at his partner, who had been bravely dabbing at his wounds for several minutes now. He had barely even noticed that every movement she made caused her to wince in pain from her own burns.
“Here, Erza,” the King offered, gently taking the wet map from her, “my turn to help you out, okay?” He smiled at his companion, standing up and gesturing for Erza to plop down where he had been. Hesitantly, the crimson-haired warrior took a seat on the ground—criss-cross apple-sauce, once again—and flinched as Mickey started to try and ease her pain.
“You know what, Mick?” Erza groaned, rubbing her jaw, still sore from where the black-haired man had kicked her, “I’m already starting to get tired of this.” Mickey had to laugh—they had been here for maybe half a day, and only met up with their fellow, more violent competitors twice. Surely fate would have many more encounters in store for them, and in the back of his mind, the mouse knew that things would probably get more exciting (and dangerous) the farther they got into this murder game. Still, he couldn’t help but echo Erza’s sentiments.
“Me too, pal,” he frowned, “me too.”
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Retane - 05-27-2015
The Emerald Fiend looked to the Malefactor and realized that no one had ever actually told Jack Frost about it. The warrior felt a slight twinge, as if the orgosynth was trying to dig deeper and hide. But still it desired the fights and bloodshed Retane had given it. It was never happy just saving a life or protecting people. It was happy with killing. Only with killing. The same felt the same way with the Abyss. The tree's that called out to him demanded bloodshed. He could feel it now. He understood exactly what they wanted; What this place wanted. He understood why Dante's Abyss had the possibility to bring out his dark side then. It was all hell in this place.
Hell in the Abyss. He was the hell in the Abyss. His head was the Hell in this Abyss. He felt a strong desire to let the others know exactly what it was he was feeling.
Retane took a deep breath and spoke calmly then as he looked deep into the eyes of his comrade, "This is an orgosynth. It was from Project Malefactor. I took it off a man that had been possessed from the thing. I gave him and is brother closure, and this was my trophy."
Jack gave a curious glance, "Closure?"
Retane heard the bay of the wolf once more, Jack looked in the direction, and Retane for once he wasn't hearing things. "I killed them both in the end. 'The Skull', and his brother were space marines. The brother asked me to find him. They both wanted closure. I killed the mercenaries after him, and then relieved him of his pain. He asked me for... For Tapion's Death. He wanted to die and be buried where no one would ever touch his body. He got a flash of my memory as I got it. I agreed. His brother, after telling him wanted closure too and asked me to take his life. Where do you think the other two came from that was with me aside from Arith? They both agreed that it was wrong to try and kill a man that did his job. He was not supposed to be hunted down like that..."
Retane let out a low growl as he looked away knowing by know the other two, Sverit and Gulish would be safe in his base. He couldn't look his innocent friend in his eyes and and accept what he had done. It had always bothered him, He never admitted it, but he never would. It gave him strength and power, that's all that mattered.
Jack placed a hand on the namekian's shoulder and was quiet, "Still never told me what it did."
The Emerald Warrior took a deep breath and looked back into the visage of his friend, "It makes me stronger, but it seems it's at a cost. Humans use to use it in some battle against demons, but the cost is it tries to take control of you and yourself. It drives you insane and makes you kill those that you care about. You hunt for battle and kill, you are yourself demonic and only care about blood lust."
"So you are describing half of yourself and Dante's Abyss in a nut shell then right?" The Guardian let off a smile, but it felt as if Jack really understood.
Retane nodded. It really did explain everything that was running through his own head right then. He had exposed himself then, to the only guy that could protect him and smiled. He had done this once before, but this was different. This was Jack Frost, not Tapion,. Things were different. Everything was different. Everything but the desire and urge to fight and show that The Horsemen were here.
The namekian laughed after a seconds and looked to the sky as he heard a wolf howl at the moon. He knew it was in his mind this, time trying to keep the Abyss out of his head, as well as trying to hold off the Malefactor from encroaching on his soul. But he was a Horsemen. Jack Frost was one too. More people had to die here, and soon. More people had to be removed from the tournament. Deep inside the Emerald Warrior knew that to be true, his soul, the Abyss itself, and the Malefactor all agreed on it.
For the Horsemen to survive, people had to die. People always had to die. Chaos had to ensue. Things always had to happen. Retane wasn't much for hiding, and he knew exactly what they must do. The namekian still clutched the two orbs in a blood rusted fist and sighed. The namekian showed them the eyeballs to Jack Frost and smirked as he dropped them to the ground, "If they come at you, do anything to kill, my friend. Go at the eyes, Stick close and I'll try to help you as you help me, but never let anyone else as close to you as you have let me. They'll kill you without a second thought."
The Guardian couldn't help but stare at the eye balls in disgust, even as they laid there on the ground. The Emerald Fiend let a slight grin out as he watched Jack clutch the broken mirror deep in his hands. The namekian headed in a specific direction, wanting only to find his next victim.
Find us one. soak my roots more please!!!! Oh, how I have missed you!
Retane felt that the Malefactor was ready, and sadly the Emerald Warrior knew he would want it. People had to die now. It as a must.
Jack hollered back as he followed, "Have you ever played, Eye Spy?"
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Jak Mar - 05-27-2015
Jak had just made it to a small millhouse after carrying his supplies and a small weapon of some sort that he had picked up from the injured man in front of him. He had bit his tounge and jumped out of the way when the dynamite went off. The strange pokemon like... figure had come out of nowhere and broke Jak's left arm. He pratically prevented the urge to scream but he would have to hold his left arm. It hurt like hell to have his arm broken, but it could of turned out some other way... He had more blood on his hands and the screams inside would have to wait.
I wish the others would keep going.... Dax... and the others...
The mill wasn't filled with much, but the wood there could make a good arm brace if possible. He looked for a piece of wood and ripped a piece of his shirt making a makeshift brace on his arm holding his left arm up.
There was no time to stay in this mill but the break could be worth it...
Jak took one MRe and started to eat a bit of filling food, and it at least filled his rumbling stomach.
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Strazio Rockwell - 05-27-2015
The dull pain of failure hit me again, or rather that pig-faced bastard Ganondorf hit me again. The monstrous creature cracked me hard enough to go flying through the nearby school. Several well-placed desks stopped my flight as I crashed through them and landed against the wall with a pathetic thud. Leftover energy from the Avatar of Rage crackled across my body and singed my remaining un-burned flesh. Blood dripped from my good hand and my broken arm throbbed in excruciating pain.
“Fuck”
Every bone in my body creaked from the strain as I stood up, the Avatar took a terrible toll on my body and Ganon’s strikes rocked me to the the core. The mere thought of the red-haired prick sent hot magma coursing through my veins. “When I get out of here” I seethed with a quiet rage I hadn’t felt in a long, long time “I’ll rip him to shreds and swallow every last piece.” That kind of fury was a rare and quiet type. It smoldered and burned slowly and consumed my mind with hatred. Even with my dampened powers I could still feel the magick sparking through my veins, trying to escape through dampener. “Fuck!” my temper finally boiled over and I punched a desk with all of my might, crashing through the dry wood and sending splinters across the cracked linoleum.
Silence, an eerie silence followed my outburst and swallowed the battlefield. Everyone was either dead or incapacitated at this point. A sense of urgency overcame my rage; I needed to get out of this hot zone before shit got worse, my vendetta could wait. The exit to the school was nearby and I staggered towards it, kicking up dust as stumbled through the hallway. Blood dripped from my mangle hand and left a trail to follow, but I was too exhausted to care. Looking back one last time at the battlefield I managed to smirk slightly. Even though this competition was one perturbation after another I would be lying if I didn’t say I was having fun.
The trek through the forest was rough, but I headed back to where I had landed after being mauled by Ganon’s dragon. From there I would head north and hit the coast, hopefully I could get some breathing room and lick my wounds. At the very least I could die peacefully on a beach. The beach was nice, in fact it was almost idyllic. My stomach growled at me and I growled back. The last thing I needed was hunger pains.
“Just a moment” I sighed and closed my eyes, leaned against a beached rock “I...I need to rest.”
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Monkey D. Luffy - 05-27-2015
"Glugurglebluburgle" Obscured something-or-others seeped from Luffy's fluid-choked gullet as he flailed about perilously, eliciting his crew-mates to scuttle over and rescue the dolt from a marshy doom. The ignoramus never taught himself how to swim, or rather, given his Devil Fruit weakness, was never provided an appropriate opportunity.
"Huff . . . guh . . thanks you two, I was nearly fish food!" Straw Hat conveyed gratitude with a double pat on the head, ruffling the tyke duo's killer hairdos. Wringing his soggy garments free of murky deluge, the rubber eccentric brushed his cap free of seaweed and fish poo.
Errrgurrh.
A hearty gurgle resonated from beneath the ambrosian princess's naval, stealing her cohort's empathetic gaze. They too had grown famished following numerous bouts of fisticuffs and that which felt comparable to an aeon of deprivation.
Plucking the straw hat from his damp locks, Luffy plopped it upon Desco's meager dome, slightly teetering to the left as it was several sizes too large for the squirt. "Hold onto this for me, 'kay Wriggles?" The captain entreated, provoking a compliant nod from his exotic comrade before trudging over to the forestry expanse. "I'll go hunt us some lunch!"
Roughly thirty minutes came and went, the sultry sun sloping along a speckless azure sky. Prepping a fire for a forthcoming, hopefully edible meal, Guu and Desco nestled betwixt a makeshift terrace comprised of loose branches and linen conjured by the impish goddess herself.
A tremorous splitting of trees and sprigs solicited the lazing couplet to aim their attention to the skirting woodland. Stung by perplexity, they fixed eyes upon their abhorrent colleague paving a path through the brush, towing a mammoth-sized beast ensnared via fastened ropes.
"You've got to be kidding . . . " Guu murmured with unsettled breath while a speechless Desco merely dangled her drooping jaw minor hairs above the sooty terrain.
"Oi! Bubbleguu! Wriggles! Let's eat! Kahahaha!"
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Samus Aran - 05-27-2015
Despite everything, Samus had to crook a smile. Harry was not in any way dissuaded from shit-talking even in this grim environment. He reminded her of an old Federation friend who also liked to run his mouth in life or death situations. “You know how it is,” she grunted. “You take an arrow in the shoulder and that giant pig monster from the Rathalos fight comes back to stab you in the gut.” After that protracted sentence, she had to take a gasp.
“Hell’s bells,” Harry breathed as he glanced down and took in the reality of her statement. She was clearly bleeding heavily from her stomach, and the jagged tip of Ganon’s tusk still protruded from her bare torso.
“Yeah.” Samus winced. “I’ll be honest, it’s not as bad as losing my left arm. But that gun of yours should come in handy.”
“Shut up,” instructed Harry. “Is there any way you can remove your suit?”
“…Yeah. But not here. Not out in the open.”
The wizard didn’t disagree with her.
* * * * *
Samus gently lay down at the entrance to Harry’s hideout. She sucked in air, doing her best not to scream with every tiny movement. She didn’t know how she looked right now under the visor but she had to guess it wasn’t good.“The tusk first,” she said.
Harry nodded, sweating.
Samus took off the suit. It shimmered blue for a moment before dematerialising, and then the pain hit her all at once. She could not bear to even look down.
“Hells bells,” Harry repeated. He seemed to be sweating even harder now than before. He simply stood there, shocked, until Samus stared at him.
“You going to take the tusk out or do I have to do it myself?”
Harry found his voice. “Yeah … yeah.” He knelt down at Samus’s side and eyed the wound as though it were a bomb and cutting the wrong wire would mean an explosion. “You sure … this is a good idea?” he asked.
“DO IT!” roared Samus.
Harry put his fingers as close to the wound as he dared, taking a solid grip on the broken end of the tusk. He pulled. Samus nearly blacked out. It was like she was being stabbed again. Harry pulled some more and she screamed as the tusk came out.
“Don’t move around!” hissed Harry, his hand pressed to her stomach. With his free hand he reached into the bag of supplies their attacker had left behind and drew out the bottle of water. He gently used it to clean the area around the wound and the wound itself, hands shaking almost as much as Samus’s were. When he was done, he waited for a moment. “You okay?” he asked, feeling stupid.
“Yeah,” Samus managed. The waves of pain were unlike anything the Hunter had ever experienced.
“Now the shoulder,” said Harry. “Let’s get this done, then you can rest.”
Samus, shot him a look that said ‘I hate you’, but nodded anyway.
“Roll on your right side,” Harry instructed before taking the Master Sword. The arrow had gone through the back of Samus’s left shoulder, leaving a feathered tip still jutting from the back. He took the sword next to it. “Hold still.”
Understanding what he was doing, Samus nodded. The sword came down and neatly sliced off the back of the arrow. She sucked in air as the vibration jolted her shoulder, then blew it out. “That wasn’t so bad.”
“This will be. Turn around.” Harry knelt next to the hunter and fixed his hands around the arrow. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
“One, two … THREE!”
* * * * *
Harry watched over Samus as she slept. He’d ripped up his shirt, most of which was now wrapped around Samus’s shoulder and midriff. “Déjà vu,” he murmured.
Re: Day One: Part 1 - Blackfire - 05-27-2015
If you made it past the preliminary stage and into the game, you were a threat, plain and simple. It meant that you possessed a unique quality, or qualities that stood out among the thousands of Primes that had signed up and failed to make an impact onto the judges. So when Blackfire had come face to face with the pink haired girl, when she had looked down at her, she saw past the innocence in her eyes. The bottom line was; either you were willing to cooperate with the empress, or you were a threat, therefore, the Tamaranean had not regretted making the first move; the only thing she failed to anticipate was that the girl had allies.
Blackfire grunted in pain, hands continuously pressed against her snapped fibula. She grunted again, but this time, it merged with laughter, realising that she had fallen into their trap. It all made sens now. They had obviously preplanned ahead of an encounter with a foe. It was so simple. Plan A: use the child as bait because she looks so sweet and vulnerable, and if the girls innocence isn’t convincing enough to lure the foe into a false sense of security, resort to Plan B: remain hidden. Let the child hold her own against the foe and then the concealed group members will come out of hiding and ambush the foe, the second their guard drops.
Blackfire’s upper body swayed from left to right, trying her hardest to balance herself on her left leg. She pierced the shovel into the ground and applied her body weight onto it, holding on for dear life. Her hands trembled violently as the sharp pain continued to course through her right leg. After a few moments of concentration, she was finally able to keep a steady balance. That prompted a deep sigh, content to remain in the same spot for a little while. Music, she thought to herself and then closed her eyes. Whenever she experienced discomfort, mentally or physically, she would listen to music. The more songs she listened to, the more her mind eased, simultaneously, stress gradually decreasing. Unfortunately, her supply bag didn’t come with an iPod, therefore she would improvise.
As Blackfire began humming softly to one of her favourite songs, she began reflecting on the events that had transpired since she entered the Dante Verse.
“Yesterday I fell in love.”
The image of The Rock bringing his lips to hers replayed in her mind. She felt warmth the moment their lips connected. That was then, but not now. She just wasn’t in the right state of mind. The only feeling occupying her mind was confusion.
Why had he kissed her? He did not even know her. He had just met her for the first time. Did he mean to, or was it merely a publicity stunt to boost his reputation and the show’s ratings?
“You didn’t fucking mean it,” she scowled.
She had never shared a passionate kiss, let alone even kiss anyone, ever, before. Her mentor Tyrand’r was the only person that had shown her any type of affection. So who could blame her for being sceptical?
“Today feels like my funeral.”
Physically, had never felt this much pain. She had experienced her fair share of fights, even wars, but never had she left a fight with a broken bone, only cuts and bruises, at most. In her current state, she was easy pickings. Her next encounter could be her last. If that transpired, she would have failed and her efforts to track down and kill the Psion on this island would be in vain. She had to survive, at least until she fulfilled her objective.
“I just got hit by a bus.”
For a pintsized individual with tiny fists, that child sure packed a punch. The force behind her blow had literally, lifted Blackfire off her feet, careening backwards through the air.
How could a child possess so much power?
“I feel like a killer hit me.”
Who were these people? First the girl, then the pair of long arms from the real life version of Stretch Armstrong, only with bony arms and a ridiculous straw-hat. He hit just as hard. In fact, he was the reason she had retreated. In a desperate attempt to avoid absorbing any more shows from his rocks-for-fists, she weaved to her right, but landed carelessly, hence the broken leg. Had she let her pride consume her and continued to fight them, they would have destroyed her.
I have got to get away from here, she realised. Being out in the open was inexcusable, even with her handicap.
With a hiss, Blackfire thrust the shovel forward with his right hand, and while she put her full weight on it, brought her left leg forward. She never imagined the shovel would play an important part in her survival, as she began using it as a crutch.
This was going to be a long day.