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+--- Thread: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero (/showthread.php?tid=7496)
[Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Karl Jak - 06-10-2018
Like everyone else, Handsome Jack and Dane Regan materialized on the slightly elevated stone platform. The two partners gave each other a once over before turning their eyes to the pair of blips that flashed across from them.
Pepsi-man and Aero shared a similar gaze. Having just met a few hours prior, they had no need to exchange pleasantries. The pair stood and waited for the metaphorical opening gong to give them to go ahead to hydrate the living shit out of their adversaries.
“Isn’t there a bell?” Handsome Jack mumbled beneath his breath.
***
“Hey, Karl,” one of the employees stationed at a console lifted his head and flagged over the company CEO.
“What’s the matter?” The man inquired as he casually made his way down the row of monitoring station.
“Are you sure that you calibrated Platform 21? There’s some… weird stuff going on with the field.”
Karl Jak scowled as he looked up at the decorative ‘#21’ sign that hung over the station. Unlike the others, that sign had been hastily secured with bolts, rather than properly seated and polished. “Oh, yea, that’s right,” the man said with a smile as he snapped his fingers. “Totally forgot. I wasn’t paying attention when Fabio slipped his registration in at the last moment. Let me double-check the settings.”
The worker slid over to allow the mastermind of the verse to glance down at the console. A quick succession of taps brought up a series of holographic images that Karl started to swivel and twist around with gentle, precision movements of his hands and individual fingers. “See?” Karl replied as the whole projection flashed green before fading away. “Now they’re safe and snug like all the others.”
“Yea, but…” the worker pointed to a side screen on the console. “Is there supposed to be five people in there?”
Karl, tilting his head to look at the console, frowned as he recognized the readings.
***
Overhead, the four primes heard the crackle of Karl Jak’s automated voice message. In the drone of the announcer-slash-producers voice, they failed to hear the strange, nearly melodic noise in the background.
“All right, you goofy fucks!” Aero declared with a smile as he smacked his palms together and grinned. “Me and this soda-looking mother fucker are going to give you diabeetus… and then kick you in the nuts.”
Pepsi-man stepped forward and produced a can of liquid refreshment from nowhere in particular. “Prepare your taste buds for refr—” Mid-sentence, the mascot’s chest exploded outward, spraying warm, carbonated Pepsi far enough to splash Dane and Handsome Jack in their faces.
While Dane found himself pivoting backwards to wipe the fizzy deliciousness from his eyeballs, Handsome Jack’s second face spared him the full burst of carbonated fury.
Standing just two feet from Pepsi-man, Aero should have been able to react faster, but the last thing he had expected was to see his partner get insta-merc’d right next to him. As the mascot crumbled to the ground, his body melted into a pool of warm soda.
Aero, shaking the confusion from his head, turned his wide eyes and found himself staring at the damp, heaving chest of someone who towered over him. By the time the blue-haired man had lifted his eyes to share the gaze of the man in the hockey mask, a wet, leather-clad fist clapped around his head. A trained warrior, Aero tried to counterattack, but he was pulled off his feet.
From the other side of the arena, Dane turned his slightly bloodshot eyes just in time to see and hear the splintering crack of Aero’s skull being shattered. Without a second thought about it, Jason hurdled the corpse from the arena and clenched the handle of his machete.
Chh chh chh … ahh ahh ahh...
Handsome Jack turned to Dane and tapped him on the shoulder. “Was this in the script?” He asked once Dane had craned his head to meet his gaze.
“I, uhh, maybe?” Dane said as he shrugged his shoulders.
[i]CHH CHH CHH … AHH AHH AHH…[/i]
Both men snapped their attention back to the now empty spot on the far side of the arena.
“The fu—“ Handsome Jack stopped mid-sentence when he saw that they were standing in someone’s shadow.
Quote:Word Limit: 850
Posts: 2
Time Limit: 48 hours
Random Elements: On
Damage Meter: Off
Time limit starts at 8 am CDT
Fight Area description is available in the Fight Area Reveals thread and the Round 1 Discussion thread.
Posting goes: Dane -> Jack -> Jason -> Dane -> Jack -> Jason , although there may or may not be a Jason post. Mr. Voorhees has all his movie powers, and is stronger, more durable, faster, and more technical than either of you, regardless of power ups (he has those too). So please be aware that you're writing a fight that is mostly you getting your asses kicked. Can't always be the super hero.
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Dane Regan - 06-12-2018
"So... Uhh... Now might be a good time to mention I kinda forgot my swords." Dane grinned regardless, chuckling genuinely without a hint of the implied nervousness laced through his naturally smug yet apathetic voice. Subtly, he swayed from side to side, a yawn almost reaching his lips as if to silently say 'do I have to?'
Shouldn't we be worried?
Nah.
"Great, kiddo!" Handsome Jack nodded confidently yet dismissively, lacking concern for his partner's limited arsenal and delivering a firm slap to Dane's back. His arm lingered uncomfortably, wiping off some of the sticky soda off his palm. "Just keep your plank of wood between me and the big guy."
With a brief flicker, Dane teleported a metre to the side, leaving a shadowy afterimage of Pepsi vapours in his wake. "Sounds like a plan, I guess." Gracefully, he rolled his shield off his back and toyed with the straps for a second, all while a large metal gun fizzled into Jack's hands from a cloud of pixels.
Should be easy enough.
-wait fuck.
Displaying genuine haste, Dane swiftly crouched and kicked off to the side, biting his lip in the short moment of angst. Like a startled cat, he sprung high, using his newfound distance to examine the cause of his instinctive dodge.
How did he...?
An impossibly fast cleaver had carved through the air, slicing a thin line across Dane's already-torn shirt as he twisted away. The swordless swordsman's gut churned, subconsciously clenching from how close he was to being disembowelled. Before he could reach the floor, a laugh escaped his mouth nonetheless, the sheer absurdity of such a novice mistake on his part.
He didn't have much time to contemplate how exactly Jason had flanked him so smoothly as a loud bang rang out followed by an ever-present ringing. Metal pellets exploded into the killer's chest and the area all around, pinging off his mask like high-speed droplets of rain.
Landing in a crouch behind his teammate and greeted with yet another crashing wave of sound, Dane stumbled.
"Argh. What did I literally just say?"
Something about wood or something.
'eeeeeeeeeeeeeee...'
The ringing didn't let up, shifting into a dull continual high pitched whine.
Still wobbly on his feet, barely paying attention to the gruff sticky hand as it pushed against his back, he was brought face-to-face with the machete guy. "Go get 'em, dude."
Dane blinked, puffing air up out his mouth to shift his hair away from his eyes. "Yeah, I'm really not-" Hairs tingled along his arms, goosebumps bristled down his spin, without thinking Dane shifted his feet and jerked his shield arm up to meet the forceful blade. Sawdust, splinters, and fragmented bolts spewed from the glancing gash in the makeshift equipment. A twist of his arm at the last moment saved his limb, forcing him to bend his legs under the strain of attempting to deflect the powerful cleave to the side, yet the manoeuvre left him open to a powerful punch to the gut.
Coughing and spluttering as harsh leather-clad knuckles twisted into his solar plexus, Dane tried to take half a step back, only to realise he was somehow on the edge of the platform. Thinking quickly, he punched, using his shield arm to drive the half-torn board of wood into Jason's throat.
While not choking, the beastly man reeled long enough for Dane to throw himself to the side, acting as his body told him rather than planning consciously on his own.
Machete raised and ready to pursue-
"Bye-bye, motherfucker." Dane could barely see Handsome Jack smirking out the corner of his eye before another shockwave tumbled through his tired skull.
Sssss-BOOM!
Jason barely budged an inch. Multiple shallow and now-chared small bullet wounds still littered his chest, but over the passing seconds of stunned silence - at least, Dane thought it was silence - his skin puckered, spitting out shards of metal as it slowly began to knit itself together.
Dane took a long deep breath, ending it with an appropriately sized sigh. "Yeah. Not feeling it, buddy," he announced between pants, not speaking to anyone in particular. "It just feels like work, y'know? Too much effort."
Involuntarily, his heart thudded in his chest nonetheless, adrenaline pumping through his blood. His alert muscles twitched, their heightened reactions wasted in the moment of respite, always jumping slightly with every single harsh thudding step Jason made, mini-shockwaves reverberating through both the stone tiles and his bones.
Waiiit...
His eyes scanned over the small arena. Just him and the machete-wielder.
Hey, where'd the other guy go?
Quote:I haven't watched Friday the 13th pls don't hate me scary movies r scary. Mostly relying on this and google-fu: http://fridaythe13th.wikia.com/wiki/Jason_Voorhees#Powers_and_abilities
764 words. Didn't use any SP. Dane is too busy being dumb and unmotivated, but being tricksie enough with foresight and such to avoid getting too hurt so far - although his chest probably hurts. Dane only used his base form, so 1/2/3/6.
Jack did use 1/4 of his Thot Potatos, however. And also ends the post stealthed (utilising the grenade to get out of sight, mostly).
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Handsome Jack - 06-13-2018
Jack just couldn’t help himself. His face lifted in a gleeful grin. This was literally the best day ever. He’d never been happier. And why shouldn’t he be happy? Here he was, safe and sound under his Stealth Field, watching a machete-wielding colossus just kick the ever-loving crap out of the Gipper. On a scale from one to ten, Jack was at a fifteen. That is, until Jason pimp-slapped White Jesus straight towards him.
“ShitshitshitshitFUCK!” Jack bellowed in a totally manly and not juvenile manner as Dane unceremoniously slammed into him. Tumbling to the stone tiles in a tangled heap with his partner, Jack silently begged for his Field Generator to hold up. For a moment, it seemed it might pull though, as it whined and sputtered under the strain of maintaining the Field. But, in the end, it was too much for the little machine, and its capacitor popped with a puff of acrid smoke, forcing Jack back into visibility.
“Goddammit, Fabio!” Jack growled, kicking the still reeling Dane off of him. “Why’d you have to go and do that for, huh? Now we’re BOTH fucked!”
It took a few seconds for the pair to right themselves, but fortunately their murderous foe seemed content with his slow stride towards them. Not really sure how menancing a guy can be when a brisk walk is all it takes to escape you, but whatever. Slapping a hand onto Dane’s shoulder, Jack leaned in close and spoke softly to the guy.
“Listen, puddin’... I got one last trick that I think should do it. Upside is: I can pull it off with just one arm.”
“... What’s the downside?”
Jack smirked wryly, risking a side-long glance over at his partner, “You’ll have to distract him while I set it up…”
“Well, that’s not TOO bad,” Dane muttered doubtfully.
“For five minutes,” Jack finished, returning his gaze to the force of nature plodding menacingly towards them. “And considering he beat us to a pulp in under one… Eh, nevermind. I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Uh… I don’t think this is really a good idea…”
“Nah! You’ll be fine!” Jack replied with a laugh and a hard slap to Dane’s posterior. “Go get ‘im, tiger!”
With a backwards glance and an audible ‘gulp’ of nervousness, Dane reluctantly stepped towards the waiting serial killer. And… just got his fucking ass kicked. It was brutal. Like, watching a pitbull with a squirrel brutal. The type of shit they wouldn’t air on HBO because it’d be too graphic. Seriously, Jason might have even violated the poor boy with that machete in ways that would make him unfit for a lover. Or maybe all this is just an exaggeration and metaphor is an easy way to mask laziness in writing? Anyway, the whole massacre ended with the Reganator getting tossed back towards his partner like a ragdoll. Pretty sure arms aren’t SUPPOSED to bend that way. Or spines… Whatever.
“Ugh… god… why..?” Dane groaned painfully, unwanted tears clouding his vision of Handsome Jack. With a growl, he asked, “Are you done yet?!”
“Done with wha- OH! Oh the plan! Yeah… about that…” Jack sheepishly explained with a laugh. “Sorry, pumpkin. I figured you and Steroid Gretsky were getting along so well, I kinda just forgot about the plan. Don’t worry though...”
Handsome Jack took a knee, patting Dane on the back with his good hand. “I didn’t need five minutes anyway,” he finished, touching a button on his Holographic Projector. In a cascade of brilliant cubes of light, a digital duplicate of the duplicitous director formed to his right. Simultaneous grins flashed over their mugs, as they focused the aim of their sub-machine guns on their opponent.
“If you think this is gonna go the same way as before, pal… you don’t know Jack!” they quipped in unison, releasing a salvo of ammunition at the stalwart murderer.
Quote: 629 words of dumpster fire, according to Google Docs. Jack uses 2 SP to activate Dem Digits for a Round. His Stealth Field Generator is broken and he's currently using his Quicky alongside his Assist
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Storyteller - 06-14-2018
Relentless sunshine beat down on the alabaster stage of this first, feral round. Indeed, the ideas of 'relentless' and 'beat down' seemed to be the general topic of the day as the better part of a hundred bullets slapped into the thick meat of Jason's flesh. This did not, as per usual, deter the colossus from his objective. Though he may have stumbled there, flinched here, it eventually dawned on the Handsome one that his fusillade of automatic fire was not having the desired effect on his opponent.
"Uh...your move twinkletoes." Jack said nervously as he and his facsimile slapped new magazines into their weapons. Regan, who was still without a specific weapon, blinked slowly as he watched the masked murderer advance on his...battle partner. Ally was probably too strong of a word at this point. He sighed.
Yes, I suppose we should do something, after all.
The orange coated trickster slipped seamlessly into his stealthy countenance, stalking towards the trundling Jason with all the poise and grace of a tabby cat. Sucking in a sharp breath, he shifted all of his weight onto his left foot, and swept his right leg at Vorhees' right foot as it stepped forward. The sensation was a bit like driving his shin into the trunk of an alder tree. The recalcitrant swordsman cried out in pain, reflexively gripping at his shin as Jason wheeled around and stared down at him with black, shark-like eyes.
"Uh."
Perhaps it had always been a ruse, the way Jason stomped slowly around this miniscule arena. Or, perhaps he could be spurred into great speed when presented with an easy kill. Either way, the sheer quickness of the giant's movement caught Regan off guard as he lunged down and gripped the sly magician by the throat. Dextrous hands clutched and clawed at the moldering jacket sleeve as Vorhees lifted Dane high into the air, his blood-spattered machete hanging loosely in his left hand. Ragged breathing came from behind the mask...a glint of excitement in otherwise hollow eyes.
"Shotgun?" asked Jack's digital brother.
"Shotgun!" the Prime counterpart said with a note of sadistic glee. Hot damn if this bare-chested ren faire wannabe wasn't making him look good! A pair of garishly yellow Hyperion weapons faded into existence in dual showers of cyan glitter. The Jacks took a step forward and took aim at Jason's upper and lower body, respectively. The following reports rang out harshly through the quaint little arena, and flayed open the marauder's back in a spray of burgundy gore. Dane felt the iron grip on his throat loosen slightly as a long wheeze escaped Jason's stricken throat. The giant began to teeter backwards, and Regan prepared to leap away from the stunned monster the second he hit hard pavement.
What happened instead was Jason and Dane disappearing through the white-tile floor in a splash of cool, mountain water. It took a moment for Jack to process what he had just seen, as the column of cascading fluid disappeared just as quickly as it had come. The surface of the arena rippled for a moment, but as Jack dashed forward and tested it with a probing boot, it was rock solid once more.
"Fabio! Uh...Dane?" Jack called, looking around in dawning panic.
Meanwhile, Regan and Jason tumbled and struggled in watery darkness. To say that he was disoriented would be a gross understatement on the mage's part. He felt those beartrap hands wrapping around his legs, dragging him down to untold depths of pain. His own muffled cries of anguish and the chilling carress of his own bubbly breath informed the perceptive victim that he was currently upside down. Ears burning from pressure, Dane reached out with his extrasensory faculties, trying not to let the cloying breath of fear cloud his mind.
It appeared as though this maniac mauler had manifested some sort of arbitrary tank beneath their previous stage. He could feel the thin ceiling of tiles behind his back, though it was rapidly drifting away as Vorhees took him deeper. Just as Regan was able to fix on a point of escape, a blinding spike of molten pain opened up in his side. The water around him became slightly warmer as the numbing sensation of blood loss filled one of his minds. The others rushed in to compensate, and Regan winked out of existence for a fleeting instant.
Jack and his digital copy wheeled around with wide-eyed fear as a sudden splashing sound came from behind them. Their trigger fingers relaxed only slightly as they saw the waterlogged, mop-haired form of Dane Regan sagging to the arena floor. The swordsman gagged and heaved an effluence of silty water onto the floor, and clutched at this right side with a white knuckled grip.
"M'livers gon fall out." Regan mumbled in a matter-of-fact tone between haggard breaths. Handsome Jack jogged over to his partner and knelt to offer him a hand up.
"More pressingly, we gotta get you a blow dryer. The wet look really doesn't suit-" Handsome Jack quipped, before being cut off by his own, shrill scream. The sound of shattering tile and a blast of pain in his left leg. Looking down, the executive meddler was treated to the sight of a machete stabbed directly through his shin bone, nailing him to the ceramic floor. Instinct compelled Jack to try and wrench his leg free, but it was more pain than Jack had experienced for some time, and he only managed to not throw up.
"Gadammit." Regan breathed, limping forward to try and assist. A flash of danger crossed his mind, and it was everything in the agile man's power to avoid the snaking bramble of chains that whipped out of a puddle that had suddenly opened in the ground behind him. Bloodstained teeth flashed angrily as Dane tried to dig his fingers into the seams of the tile floor, resisting being dragged back into that hellish tank he had already escaped once. He felt his legs and, to his eternal agony, mutilated torso being dragged back under. The iron bindings had wrapped around his upper body and right leg, and the mage's eyes widened behind the thick ropes of hair that stuck to his face. If he resisted, there was every chance he was going to be torn in half.
It was only through the intervention of Jack's digital duplicate that Regan's torment was alleviated. The now-humorless assistant rush forward with his shotgun shouldered and blasted the ghostly puddle with the remainder of the weapon's magazine. One lucky shot sheared through the cruel metal of the chains, and the clanking strands whipped resentfully back under the frothing surface of the aquatic portal.
Once more, Dane heaved himself out of the water, coughing and groaning lowly. Time. He needed time to heal. But that seemed like it was going to be a precious commodity at this juncture. Meanwhile, the whimpering form of Handsome Jack was doing his best to slowly ease his impaled leg off of the absurdly thick blade when a sudden snort of noise roared to life behind him. Fully gripped by fear, Jack turned around, half expecting to see some demonic beast looming over him.
What he saw instead of flinty yellow eyes and snarling fangs was the persistently blasé countenance of a battered hockey mask. Jason was standing, patiently, with a puttering chainsaw held in both hands. What Vorhees did not do, however, was make any move to execute his handicapped opponents. Take your time, he seemed to say. I'm enjoying this.
CHH CHH CHH...
AH AH AH...
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Dane Regan - 06-17-2018
"Hey dude, you okay?" Dane choked the words out, voice strained yet on the verge of laughter regardless. One hand shakily clutched his chest while the other assisted his shuffle-crawl towards Handsome Jack. Blood - it seemed - wasn't the best lubricant for sliding over the rough grating stone.
The chainsaw revved, but it was just background noise. It wasn't touching Dane, why should he care about it?
"I'm peachy," Jack spoke in complete deadpan after a few moments pause, then growled under his breath. "No. What does it look like? I have a freaking spike through my leg."
"Awesome," Dane nodded, relaxing as his chest began to stitch back up - much more rapidly than it would normally. His comment drew a look of disgust from the body double, who was about to open his mouth to complain before Dane spoke first. "Guess you won't mind if I take that."
Free shit, yo'.
Handsome Jack blinked, then frantically flailed his less-damaged limbs, grimacing in pain as it only made the machete saw more into his leg. "Wh-wh-whoa- no don't touch that!"
Caring little about the resistance, Dane swiftly reached out and grasped the handle, firing out his spell in perfect sync with the moment of contact. Steel flickered out of existence, revealing Jack's blood-splattered bone. Only a fine mist of moisture and blood remained to outline Dane's former presence as the spacial warp sightlessly consumed him and the weapon.
Let's make it quick.
Head spinning, he materialised behind Jason and jerked his arm up and to the side, spiralling away with all the force he could muster - strength trumping precision. Already positioned with the sharp blade wedged under the man's hulking neck, metal dug in, slicing along its arc and digging out a thin chunk of cartilage and gore.
Rather than the coughing, spluttering, and choking Dane had hoped for, his efforts were rewarded with an impossibly fast chainsaw strike. Grinding saw-teeth span ever-close to his midsection as Jason effortlessly pivoted around, yet the attack initially fell short from Dane's preemptive retreat - only for another near-instant swing to follow, hacking up under his weapon-less arm.
It was a seemingly smooth motion, but the cacophonic resonance of crushing metal could be felt through even the furthest of Dane's bones for moments after the powered weapon carved clean. Despite the shaky tremors, his sword arm deftly twisted to his defence, thrusting forward and drawing Jason's attention for precious milliseconds.
All the time he needed.
Travelling faster than his propelled blade, cells rippled, shooting outwards and filling the space left by Dane's disembodied arm. Curling, his new fingers clutched the bicep of his old limb before it could touch the ground. Fresh muscles began to tense from their moment of creation as Dane rolled his shoulder, jerking the machete back and swinging his improvised club over the top. With a meaty smack, the still-warm palm slapped Jason's mask, slowly draping down the chipped grimy surface.
Shocked or confused rather than harmed, the beast recoiled and shook his head from side to side, clearing his vision from the fleshy obstruction while wildly pushing the chainsaw out.
Light on his feet, Dane hopped back, bringing his extra arm with him and effortlessly evading the attack.
A symphony of gunshots rang out, clashing with the chainsaw engine for dominance over the audible composition. Two shotguns, and two Jacks, one helping the other manage the recoil.
Throat stitching together, Jason's eyes bore into Dane as if to threaten him into abstinence from assisting his teammate, but the glare merely rolled off the battlemage's impregnable nerves - or uncaring mindset.
Jokingly holding his dead hand up to his face, Dane forced a yawn to mask his panting, flapping the limp joints about to fan his breathing.
Admittedly, that was kinda fun.
Aaahhh heck. Fuck it.
Deciding not to let the opportunity go to waste, Dane's pose suddenly shifted. Knees bent, he pounced forwards before Jason could prioritise a target, closing the gap swiftly. His armed wrist flicked up, but he disappeared just as their blades would have clashed, teleporting to the other side of his opponent to thrust the machete down into the back of his foe's knee.
The steel bounced off, barely scraping Jason. The weak attack, however, was accompanied with the satisfyingly loud clash of Dane's other arm - which he had flung slightly upward during the teleport - colliding with Jason's face with all the momentum of his sprint behind it. Ultimately useless, but amusing. It landed side-on, with the inner elbow whacking Jason's jaw and bending the arm around his neck like a scarf... until it fell off seconds later, only to be annihilated by the running chainsaw.
Darn, I forgot to make a pun.
Utilising the distraction, Dane slunk back, skulking within the guise of his stealth while the Jacks unloaded shot after shot.
Quote:806 words. Dane is spending all 6sp on regen to heal 18hp over the course of this post (0/6 sp remaining). He should be on roughly full health at the end of this post (but still fatigued and begrudgingly fighting like the lazy apathetic shit he is). Dane used his 5/0/6/1 alt form to hurt Jason at the start before switching back to the usual 1/2/3/6 (about when he lost his arm). Dane ended the post stealthed and armed with a machete (but will jump back in whenever).
Thanks for the free weapon Mr. Storyteller, even if it's incidental and shiz. Dane will use his actual swords at some point this DA, I swear.
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Handsome Jack - 06-19-2018
"This isn't working..." Digi-Jack growled irritably, as he chambered an additional magazine into his shotgun.
"I KNOW!" Fleshy-Jack replied, firing the last shot of his own clip into the steadily-advancing behemoth known as Jason.
Of course, that wasn't exactly true. At the very least, they were slowing him down a bit. But despite the repeated barrages of gunfire, which had begun to coat the white tiles of the arena in a thick mat of viscera and gore, Jason continued towards them seemingly undaunted. The chainsaw rumbled ominously in his hands, like a barely restrained beast which longed to take a bite out of Jack and his duplicate. And, as he advanced, the duo were pushed further and further back towards the edge of the stage. Until, at last, there was nowhere further to go. Another step would send Handsome Jack off into the grass, and into disqualification. Granted, that might be better than getting brutally murdered by the Lame Gretsky, but Jack wasn't quite ready to give up his chance to win just yet.
Glancing to his left and right, the Hyperion CEO quickly affirmed that he was proper fucked. Jason had gotten too close for any kind of strafe maneuver to be effective; not with the condition his leg was in, anyway. Fortunately, it had stopped bleeding for the most part. Unfortunately, it still hurt like a mother-fucker and anything quicker than a slow stagger threatened to send Jack into unconsciousness.
"Wait... where the Hell... OH FUCK NO! Goddammit, Fabio!" Jack called out after a quick scan of the area around him revealed that Mr. Regan had gone missing. "Don't you go pulling that shit on me, pumpkin! Look... I know I kinda did the exact same thing to you earlier, but..."
A silent moment passed before Jack continued, "Ok, look. I don't have a good excuse for that. But, come on, man. Don't stoop to my level! Be the better dude!"
Again, all that greeted Jack was silence... well, aside from the growl of the chainsaw and the occasional shot from Jack or his double. His face twisted in a scowl, Jack shouted out to his invisible partner. "You know what? Fine then! Fuck you too! I don't need you anyway! I got a better teammate!"
Having regained a small measure of his courage from that tirade, Jack continued.
"Alright, me. Back-up plan: go distract the big lug while I hobble away path...et... oh, goddammit..." Jack muttered to himself, as his sidelong glance revealed that his doppleganger had taken a page from Dane's book and also made himself scarce. In the time it took him to get over that shock, it was too late to come up with a tertiary plan of escape. As if to fully illustrate his predicament, the shadow of the towering monster fell over the Hyperion CEO like an eclipse. With a sigh, Jack let his gun fall to the tiles by his feet, and forced his eyes to meet those of the Crystal Lake Killer's.
"Well... fuck me, right?" He managed to choke out before the chainsaw roared to life and buried itself within his abdomen. A crimson mist sprayed forth onto Jason's filthy mask, onto the flooring, and pretty much everywhere else it could go. To call the pain excruciating would be an understatement. It was like having a pack of wolves eat your innards alive. Wolves made from acid. That were also on fire. Thank God for shock, otherwise this next part would never have happened, because Jack would have been very much dead.
Jack's eyes glanced past Jason, and a wry smile split his face. Placing a hand on the top of the saw's chassis, Jack lifted himself and relieved the stress on his diaphragm. Live or die, win or lose, he wanted the bastard to hear what he had to say. Even so, it was a struggle to get the words out, and they came flecked with blood and interrupted by the forced clearing of his lungs as they fought to take in air.
"Hey... asshole..." Jack sputtered, weakness causing his head to lean in close to Jason's. "Guess what."
Pause for dramatic effect... and... "I popped the cherry on the rest of my grenades. Oh... and so did... the other me."
There was no time to react. Not for Jason, nor for Jack. He knew it was a desperate gamble. He knew it'd probably kill himself before it so much as put a booboo on the larger man. But, he couldn't deny just how bad-ass it was when a full seven grenades exploded at the same time, with Jason at their center.
Quote: -1 SP to utilize Digi-Jack for this post. He has now been exploded and is gone. 0/3 SP remains.
Jack used up his remaining 3 Thot Potatoes, while Digi-Jack used all 4 of his.
796 words used, according to the site counter.
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Storyteller - 06-21-2018
The silent sliver tilted his head in a canine fashion as the grenades clattered around his soggy, haggard boots. The ensuing cloud of smoke and fire sent a visible shockwave thundering into the seats of the quaint arena. In a sane, logical world, the concentrated detonation should have seen the ceramic floor reduced to crumbling ruin. In that same world, Jason should have been little more than a scattering of bloody rags.
In this world, neither of those things happened. Dane Regan, having regained some measure of his lackadaisical composure, rose to his feet and witnessed Jason's stalwart form trudging towards him. Inky smoke rolled away from the beast's towering figure, and at the same time, a thick crust of silvery metal slithered its way back into his cold flesh. Armor, then. Not only did this inscrutable ogre possess a ludicrous resiliency, but he could literally secrete a defensive coating if he felt genuinely threatened. If seven grenades was the threshold for 'genuinely threatening', then there was very little in the mage's tool belt that could even phase this terror. Regan did what he always did when confronted with a tedious problem; he sighed in disgust. In the back of his head, he was aware that he should go check on Handsome Jackass, but decided that there was no time for it. It seemed that Jason wanted his machete back.
"Well, if this match end in death, might as well speed things along." Regan muttered. Taking a calming breath, the unbothered spellsword turned his mind inside out and expelled it through his retinas. He resisted that cloying feeling that, somewhere, his erstwhile instructor in the art of psionics was laughing at the maneuver. Regardless, the Death Stare seemed to have the desired effect on Vorhees. While it was not really possible to see the revenant's pupils through the occluding mask, it could certainly be assumed that the damned zombie was at least looking at him. Jason's thundering stride became more of a shuffle as an unexpected lance of pain blossomed from within his redundant innards. Naturally, the feedback from the psychic disintegration was greater than he had even dared to anticipate. A spurt of spiteful blood burst from between sneering lips as Regan took a knee, keeping his gaze fixed on his opponent.
It could, perhaps, be said that there was a lesson here about the virtue of staring your doom in the face. When it came to escaping execution at the hands of Vorhees, however, the only lesson ever taught was in the folly of hubris. The entire, white-paved platform vibrated with bombastic footfalls as Jason's goliath body broke into a dead sprint, straight towards Dane.
"Uh, okay, uh...shit." Dane said, shaking his head slightly to dismiss his own withering spell. The swordsman dove gracefully to the right, but his moment's hesitation allowed a cold, rough hand to clamp down on his right leg. As Regan was subsequently flung across the stage, he became dimly aware of what it really felt like to be a leaf on the wind before slamming down into the gory remains of Jack's lower body. The slick of blood saw him slide for another yard, before a reluctant grasp prevented him from slipping out of bounds. This really was getting tedious. Still, if there was one thing that Dane hated more than speciously contrived blood sports, it was losing to woefully dull-witted clods like this one. Of course, it also didn't help that he was already being hoisted into the air by his hair.
Once again, Dane was forced to stare into the hollow, black eyes of a shark. With little other recourse, the spellsword tried to call upon his psionic techniques again, but was quite rudely interrupted as a pair of thick fingers ripped his right eyeball out of its socket. This, at least, was enough to break through his laissez-faire demeanor and force a strangled scream out of his throat. His remaining, deer-wide eye flickered in dread as he saw the necrotic fingers line up to claim another prize. Regan came within an inch of begging before an abrupt rattle of gunfire stitched a bloody path up the brute's right flank. It was enough to give Dane time to chop his own hair with the machete (still in his grasp, to his credit), and stagger away in the safety of stealth. He looked back only once to see Vorhees' boot poised above the hideously choking Jack, a sound which, in hindsight, had been a gutted perversion of laughter. A gruesome crunch followed.
Dane's hand covered his right socket as incarnadine tears spilled out of it. He took a deep breath and stared up at the clean, partly cloudy sky overhead. With another prolonged sigh, he looked back down. Yes, yes...Jason was coming his way, taking his damn time as usual. How deep did the reserves of invincibility go? As Dane watched Vorhees stuff the chopped locks of his own hair into a grimy coat pocket, the inquiring mage almost wondered if desecration and blood acted as a power source for this otherwise lifeless predator. Who could say?
Not Jason.
No sir.
RE: [Round 1] Dane Regan & Handsome Jack vs Pepsi-Man & Aero - Karl Jak - 06-22-2018
Face to Face
#09 Handsome Jack & #42 Dane Regan vs #X Jason Voorhees
#09 Handsome Jack & #42 Dane Regan vs #X Jason Voorhees
“How’s it going over there, crew?” Karl inquired as he glanced to the screen. “You plan on getting that stuff operational anytime soon?”
The workers crowded around the complex machine paused to look over at their boss. Most of them went back to tinkering a beat later, but one of them raise a hand to protest. “S’not easy, boss. Those barriers are calibrated very specifically… we have to undo our own majesty.”
The executive producer chortled before taking another sip of wine. “Do hurry,” he muttered back as he crossed his arms over his chest. On the screen, the ‘handsome’ man in the mask had tried to reinject himself into the fight only to receive a solid punch to the face.
***
Handsome Jack lifted his stomped and broken face off the ground as the smell of fresh blood overwhelmed him. Beneath his mask, his nose had been utterly shattered by the blow, and perhaps worse than that, the false face he wore had been splintered by the strike. Jack reached up to touch the mask, and just like that, it broke apart.
“Oh, just lovely,” Handsome Jack remarked as the approaching Jason came to a stop. The titan tilted its head at the site of the smaller man’s real face. Lifting up one of his hands, Jason slid the hockey mask up onto the top of his face to reveal a hideous, malformed image that even Handsome Jack would have nightmares about. “You win!” The wounded Jack groaned as he looked away. A moment later, a machete sliced through his left arm, which promptly fell to the ground and started to spurt blood like a gouged fish.
Behind Jason, Dane had drawn to a stop. The swordsman fell backwards—too slow. Far too slow. The machete tore up through the side of his chest and out his back. Blood sputtered from the wound as the man stumbled backwards and dropped to his knees. A shadow fell over him, but before the darkness came, there was a swirl of lights around Dane. He blinked, and then he was sitting in the preshow facility. Around him, a group of medical staff rushed forward as Handsome Jack likewise thumped to the ground after a flash of white particles.
“Welcome back!” One of the doctor’s muttered nervously as someone scooped up Jack’s arm. “We’ll get you both ready to go in no time – on the house!”
Backstage, Karl shook his head as he looked back to the screen.
Jason was already gone.
[spoiler]
Jack (2.4) & Dane (2.6) survive
Jack & Dane advance to Round 2
[/spoiler]
Jack & Dane advance to Round 2