Zone C -- Megacity One

[Dane Regan]

"Yeah. Suck it, Blackie." I yelled into the smoke.

When it cleared he was gone. Annoyingly, the item was also gone. Someone had nabbed that as well. Still, I got a free stick. It was useless. It was pointless. But, should my arm ever heal, I could take photos of myself from two angles at once. Amazing. Although I only had one tablet.

That was a win. He had nothing, anyway. And I may have only physically gained a useless piece of plastic, but this was just the moral victory I needed. He was just as bad off as I was, and he'd conceded to my superior fighting ability. Or maybe just wanted to avoid a useless fight.

I scanned over my tablet. There was another drop further west. But I doubted I'd be able to get there before anyone else. What was also interesting was the current arena fight. Black was fighting. The wizard guy from before was fighting. And two people, or thing in the case of one of them, were fighting. That was good. Really good. Hell, most of them looked wounded already, at least somewhat. It was likely one or two of them would die here, if I got lucky. I hated to play like a vulture, but honour would have no place here, it seemed. Not that I'd ever adhered to it anyway.

I figured it was probably time to give Clownpiece a visit, and hopefully get some rest as well. I sheafed my sword and headed back towards the city centre, jumping from building to building. I didn't activate my invisibility this time. I was still tired. If I rested now, I could get a reasonable shot at the later item drops. I needed something to give me an edge. And if a portable flamethrower and a useless piece of something would provide that, then that's what I'd have to use.

Dane moved from C16 to C21

[The Future Warrior]

Everything went to shambles.

At first things were going well. God Enel had trapped Gamzee in that thing the bat-guy had given him. Graowr and Batman were about to let the angry guy with the white hair have it, when an alert on the tablet distracted them. New items! That was good! But the angry, white-haired jackass took the chance to turn and make a break for it. Batman made a split-second decision, and told her to run after him while he went for the items. "Right!" She could get behind that. God Enel was counting on her!

In a blur of blue and black she burst forward. From a standstill to a full sprint in the blink of an eye. But even as fast as she was, the angry man was faster, and he already had a headstart. It was only a few seconds, but in this case it was enough. Weaving down side streets and around corners, even at one point crashing through a building and smashing out through a window around a blind corner, down a hallway. Graowr didn't have lungs to run out of breath, but she was forcing herself to move as fast as she could, dashing around every corner in a flickering burst of speed. Angry bolts of ki kept spewing from her hands, trying to nail the wounded guy with something, anything to slow him down enough to get within arm's reach. Just a second or two, that's all she needed!

It wasn't any good, though. It didn't last. Her strength was running out. He was faster than she was, and when he broke free of the tangle of side streets and back alleys, onto a wide, clear road, his greater speed gave him an edge. In a blur of motion, he rocketed ahead, a blurred riot of colors. A mangled, angry shout of "FUCK YOU!" drifted back to her as he disappeared into the gloom of the city.

For her part, she got angry. She kept running after him, blindly, down the street, around corners, and this way and that, trying to catch some sign of him again. But it was fruitless. Countless bolts of ki thundered down the street, gouging out holes in the ground, the walls of buildings, deserted cars, and everything else within reach. "YOU BETTER RUN! AND YOU BETTER KEEP RUNNING!" she screamed after him. In anger, she smashed her fist against a vehicle nearby. It jumped and wobbled on its wheels, a large dent surrounding her fist. Her normally happy, excited expression was twisted into one of extreme rage and disgruntlement, and her posture was sagging over, leaning against her arm smashed into the car. "BECAUSE IF I FIND YOU AGAIN....YOU'RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?! YOU'RE..." For the second time in her life, and for the first time spoken aloud, a curse word formed in her mind. "...YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"

And then her strength deserted her and she just sat down for a second to rest,

As stated in challenge thread, the wild Strazio got away.
Graowr blindly stumbled from C17 to C16 in her chase attempt.

[Dane Regan]

I was very deprived of sleep as I stumbled through the streets and across the buildings. I don't think it showed though.
"I've got a selfie stick. I've got a selfie stick. And you don't. Ahahahaha. All the selfie sticks are miiiiiiinnnneeeee."

I turned around quickly, pointing Selfie Stick A down an alleyway I'd just walked past. 

"You! Put your hands up where I can see them." I giggled. "Gimme your selfie stick."

I threw Selfie Stick A up into the air, letting it spin round. I shuffled sideways, catching it in my bag. Then, quickly, I drew Selfie Stick B pointing it down an alley on the opposite site of the road.

"What! Did you think I only had one? Checkmate, loser. I've got two of these bad boys." I hefted my selfie stick to adjust my aim. Those invisible people better be scared, I thought.

"Kabam!" I swung the stick in the air. "Kapow!" I threw the stick towards the trashcan, causing it to bounce off the steel lid and come spinning back through the air towards me. I caught it with the same hand. "Yeah, get fucked. Stupid bin."

From looking at my map, there were two main routes to the safehouse, should I decide to stay on ground level. A winding narrow alley. Or a wide road. I took the alley and immediately sprinted down it, a selfie stick in my good hand. Gotta stay prepared for everything.

Seeing three closed dumpsters with angled roofs, each one on an alternate side of the narrow path, I jumped up in the air and kicked off their tops, shuffling from left to right in the air. I'd always loved that motion. The change of sideways momentum. It could allow for some fun and unpredictable strikes. Maybe I'd get a chance to try it out in a later fight. I gave a mock swing of Selfie Stick A to showcase the idea.

Eventually, I arrived at the building. I could finally rest. And maybe meet up with my potential ally and portable flamethrower. Maybe they'd give me their selfie stick. If everyone else was collecting useless chunks of metal, then I'd just collect useless plastic sticks. I could win an award.

Go to sleep, you idiot.

My internal thoughts ruined my great moment of genius. 

Dane moved from C21 to Safehouse C.

If you can't tell, my ideas for movement posts are being stretched very thin. But considering how much sleep Dane needs, I don't mind if I'm writing him a bit OOC here. Once he gets to the safehouse he's faceplanting on a bed.

[Jak Mar]

Talking about glass buildings and skyscrapers made him think of Haven City over time and that made him shudder a bit.

Damn, why did he have to bring up repressed memories of his world over time?

Jak was literally writing little symbols called precursor language on a piece of paper.

“Deadpool, can you read this? If not, I’ll throw a copy of the precursor alphabet to you.”



Jak sighed, it would have to come later. First things first.

After bending down, Jak picked up the green package and opened it.

“I hope whatever it is, helps us in the long run.”

Jak kept on guard, keeping on guard in the too quiet of a city.

“Let’s go to the usual and find us a place to sit for a while to reset our collars. "

Jakpool moves to C1-C2 

[The Future Warrior]

Pink eyes slowly swept over the scene in front of her. Just a long, empty street. On either side, the bulk of a few cars here and there, slightly rusted in places, some with windows down, all of them waiting for drivers that would never come back. All of them just sitting there. Waiting. Taking up space.

As a rule, Majin didn't need to breathe, but...they could do it. Draw in and expel air and all that. And under exertion, they did quite a lot of it, just like any other race. And Graowr was doing quite a lot of it right now. Sunk down to her knees, one hand bracing her on the ground, and heaving in and out deep breaths. Errant little puffs of steam occasionally accompanied an exhalation, her expression still twisted into an angry scowl. Mad at herself. Mad at this island. Mad at the dumb white-haired angry guy who had cursed at and insulted God Enel and then run off without even sticking around to fight. Mad at herself, for letting him get away. If she'd been faster, or reacted quicker, or hadn't gotten distracted by the item reports or... She trailed off, her ragtag thoughts dying in her head. No, all of that was pointless. Her train of thought was more ragged and battered than her faux-breathing.

Eventually, she pulled herself up to her feet, staggering half a pace as her brief stint of exhaustion put in one last effort to re-ground her. Even without needing to sleep, so many days of just constantly going and going and going, without even a chance to rest for a night or something, was starting to wear on her. All of the rapid movement earlier, trying to catch Shouty McAngerface hadn't helped things, either. Puffing out a breath, she closed her eyes, shaking her head sternly to push aside the thoughts of being tired. Think energetic thoughts, get moving again!

She fished out her tablet again, checking it over. "Item drops...already claimed the two to the south..." she mumbled, frowning. "That just leaves..." She glanced at the one over in zone E. It hadn't been claimed yet, but even it had dropped already. No sense going for that one, doubtful she'd get there in time.

She kicked at the car she still stood next to, still fuming mad. "This sucks..." she grumbled, stowing her tablet away again and taking off in an easy jog. She had no idea where she was going, beyond out of this place. The city just made her angry right now.

Moving from C16 to C3

[Deadpool]

After the unlikely duo retrieved the green package—and Jak showed Deadpool some bogus paper with picture-language (perhaps from his home world, where people were too dumb to ready letters, so they resorted to pictures)—they scurried across the remainder of the parking lot, and rushed towards the entrance of the steel mill.

”How much do you bench, bruh?” the mercenary asked, imitating a shitty New Jersey guido accent.

“More that you!” Jak retorted.

They stopped at a pair of iron-cast doors, and flanked its sides to remove the metal beam barricading it. Deadpool grabbed one side, Jak the other. With a synchrony of groans, they lifted the beam just enough to allow it to tumble over its supporting latches; when it thudded against the ground, the mercenary could feel its reverberations.

Jak reached over, and before Deadpool could react, snatched one of his katanas. He shrewdly lodged the tip of it between the double-doors, and began to pry it open. The hinges shrieked as heavy shavings of rust flaked from them; soon they gave in, allowing one of the doors to creak open.

Deadpool cheered. ”I knew you'd wind be useful for something other than big dick jokes!”

“Shut up.”  Jak tossed Deadpool his katana, and smirked when the mercenary noticed that the blade was now warped.

Deadpool cringed as his eyes ran over blade. ”Well, at least we're at a steel mill. Perhaps I can fix this; if not, I'll just bash it straight over your skull.” Unable to sheathe it, he loosened his utility belt, and wedged it there, fixing it so the blade couldn't slice his hip. ”Ok, when we enter here, promise you won't sue me down the line for asbestos or black lung, or some shit.”

“What?” Jak's face looked as if a  toxic fart stung his nostrils.

”Exactly.”

Jakpool moving from C1 to C2

[Dawnika Snow]

The raven-haired assassin awoke from her seat slowly rubbing her eyes to help her vision adjust to the brightness of the room. She sat up and popped her neck from it's stuff position and stretching out the rest of her body. Her gun had fallen to the floor out of her hand as she slept. She quickly scooped it back up. After taking another minute to wake up, she looked around. The safe house was mostly empty, save for the orange fox-monster with a hat that made him look like he was part of the mafia. Weren't they called bowler caps or something?

Wait. Where the fuck is that goopy blue girl? Graowr bolted and took the items with her?!

"Goddammit all! I should have killed her on that fucking mountain!" She screamed, not caring who heard her. "You fucked up Graowr! Now you really going to die!'

She pulled herself from the chair, but just as she began to walk, a fiery heat seared up her throat and out of her mouth. Black flames erupted from her maw like an active volcano and surrounded her entire body in a rose-shaped caccoon. Once it disperse, her hair was again blonde and her eyes glowed pink.

"My vengence will be sated you stupid blue bitch!" The blonde growled as she kicked the safe house door open, nearly knocking it off its hinges. Erika replaced the rifle on her back and adjusted the gauntlets on her hands as she began to run down the streets of the town. The vita compass on her wrist flicked on, making an light electronic noise as she did so. The compass pointed to the left of the 'N' marked on it.

"West. She's in E zone then?" Erika said to herself. "I'll give something more to fear than fucking mountains."

[Deadpool]

As they entered the steel mill, the dry odor of used charcoal hit them like fanned air. Though the mercenary's mask filtered most of the stench, the smell still soured his visage; Jak winced harder than a kid anticipating a bully's punch.

The two had entered in where finished steel shipped out for delivery. Bundles of steel bars were bunched together by wiring stood on the right side of the wall. Stacked boxes wrapped in plastic covered the left wall. Dust and charcoal tinged the air a dull orange—the mercenary presumed some chemicals floated in there as well.

Deadpool didn't worry about his own lungs—even if he did catch an illness, his healing factor would stomp it out of existence—but his partner could become ill; while he joked about black lung and the like earlier, those illnesses affected millions of people in the mercenary's universe.

”Make sure you take deep breaths there, Jak,” he said. ”Where I'm from, this stuff does wonders for your respiratory system.”

“Really?” the eco warrior drawled a deep breath, but coughed profusely while trying to exhale. “I think I can feel it working already.”

A grin stretched from ear to ear behind the mercnary's mask. ”Yup, its ya like a quick high.”

That was for his bent sword, he thought.



They roamed the steel mill in search of an exit; the deeper the two went, the more industrial the surroundings became. A huge blast furnace stood as a monolith in the center of the building. The ceiling above it had been removed to allow two adjacent conveyor belts, that started from outside the building, to extend up to its head. Beside the base of the furnace, a mechanical arm held an iron bucket.  Gunk from years of usage looked like tar on its rim.

In it's glory days, the two conveyor belts fed raw materials into the furnace; smoke would come from its mouth as the inferno within it churned those materials into a lava of liquid steel. Deadpool imagined the mechanical arm swiveling around to scoop up the molten iron, and then turning to dump it into an awaiting ladle.

Don't bother googling it—you'll get the kitchen utensil.

“I think there's an exit over here,” Jak said.

A pair of rails loosely zig-zagged from the ladle to where the eco warrior was pointing: an opening partially blocked by an iron carriage.

Jakpool moving from C2 to C20

[Jak Mar]

The eco warrior held his hand over his mouth slightly laughing, if only for a precious few seconds. “Too bad, I actually thought i could of “absorbed” some of that.”

He covered his mouth with his handkerchief to hide his intentional laugh. He’d get deadpool back later when he wasn’t looking. If the ottsel was here, this would be all too easy.

First, came the opening of the blocked door.

“You wanna fix that sword, right? Help me move this damn thing in front of the door.” Jak nodded

“You want to know something about me?”

Besides the fact that i use odd symbols to write with, and unintentional ottsel gods and all that,

“I am a eco channeler. That’s why i can use different forms of energies.”

He closed his eyes for a second and smirked “Perhaps we might be walking through a terminator movie scene.”

“We’ll be back, fuckers…”

Deadpool raised an eyebrow “What, you think you are some australian bodybuilder now?”

“No, i just like the lines.” Jak rolled his eyes as he smirked for a second.

“Now that we have that settled, you know that all out comparison of our lives or accomplishments? I’m not saying real superheroes are out of the question, but hey, have you ever dealt with sage's full of dark energy who summon 30 foot precursor robots to step on you, a arsehole who perfectly intends to ruin your whole life and turns around and tells me it’s just fine.

“The Omniverse is a wake up call, I’ve fought demons with grey hair, see giant men with space armor, and hell I blew up Strazio and the Rock at one time. “

“I’ve been here for 3 years, had one hell of a ride. Perhaps I might actually be taking a liking to you.”

Don’t get too comfortable.

Perhaps when you and me aren’t busy killing each other and/or in DA, let’s run into each other, maybe again.

(Talking post)

[Strazio Rockwell]

Well there it was, game fucking over. Master had been separated from apprentice and there was nothing anyone short of Omni could do about. But that was not Strazio’s greatest grievance, no the greatest and most pernicious pain in the ass was not what had happened, but rather who had caused the happening. None other than motherfucking Enel. His name was enough to spike Strazio’s blood pressure into outer orbit. The “god” had earned a place at the top of his list, only behind two others. As the mage stewed over his various vendettas he checked his dataverse device and tapped out a quick message.

He checked his bearings. The blue bastard had stopped chasing him, or if she hadn’t she had decided to be much more quiet about it. Either way Strazio’s legs were starting to fall asleep and he felt like vomiting. He stood and pushed open the plastic lids above him and crawled out of the rusted dumpster that served as his hiding spot. He wasn’t quite sure exactly what a dumpster was, but he had a pretty good idea from the residual smell. While he certainly felt like curling up and letting the sweet embrace of death take him he knew better than to throw away such a silver lining.

“Not dead yet,” he muttered and rubbed his handless arm.

His eyes scanned the horizon and caught sight of mountains to the East. There was a lot of city left between him and the relative safety of the mountains, but it wasn’t like he could just turn around and hang out in “get-fucked-ville.” So he did the only thing he could do and he pressed forward. A man who was not only handless but now friendless began to remember just how vicious the Abyss’s crucible of bloodshed could be.

Moving C17 to C4

[Tearen Wover]

The mountains steadily gave way to hills, and the hills steadily became more and more dominated by suburban developments. Shiny, clean looking houses where children could be raised apart from the urban riff raff...wife open lawns for hosting lavish cookouts with other upper-middle crust...long driveways that could accommodate multiple cars...

It was this sort of standing testament to carefree living that had inspired Tearen to become Nealaphh. It harkened of needless pageantry and self-imposed law. Had he been a tad less wizened by the Omniverse, Tearen would have certainly taken the time to set fire to each and every one of these houses.

He breathed.

That was a time past. He was no longer a destroyer; he was a shepherd. A shepherd without a flock, at least at the moment. The initial buzz created on the Dataverse about his adventures in Diablo's back yard had faded over a few days. Tearen would not have his cherished warning become the stuff of clickbait and conspiracy. He needed more cameras, and for that, he needed drama.

Luckily, Tearen spotted what he had been looking for. Here was Strazio Rockwell walking up the street, straight towards him. Realizing that the brawler mage had a penchant for killing eldritch beasties, the elder Prime took it upon himself to adopt his more human form. The crisp suit, braided hair and supppe skin did nothing to placate the Defender.

"...the fuck're you? You want my shit? You gonna jump me?" Strazio growled, standing upright with no small amount of effort. Tearen held out a friendly hand, gesturing downwards.

"Easy, Defender. I have to quarrel with you. In fact, I would very much like to work alongside you, as long as can be managed." Tearen said in a firm tone. Strazio made a face somewhere between 'bullshit' and 'like hell'.

"Not buying it."

"You're aware that Illidan Stormrage is in this competition?"

No response this time. Rockwell just gave the Shadow his best glower.

"I'd like him dead. Very publicly dead. You in?"

Strazio didn't say anything for a long time, and Tearen could not penetrate the veil of his pain-addled mind.

"...let's talk..." the battlemage said, nodding towards the nearest mini-mansion.

Tearen moved to C4. Tearen and Strazio became teammates.

[Gamzee Makara]

"Well actually, motherfucker," the clown begins, the ghost of a smile forming on his painted face, "I feels like I can shock whichever whomever I wants to. I've been told I have an electrifying personality."

God Enel has a look on his face that speaks volumes of annoyance. "Did you just pun at me?"

"Nah, God Anal, that's the intro to my new movie, The Sonorous Gamzee Part Two: Electric Boogaloo," he chimes.

What? Okay, that one didn't even make any sense. And what was that about anal?

"Get ready, Anal, you're in for a shock!" Gamzee snickers, twirling his clubs with a flourish.

Did he just fucking... Alright, that's enough of this buffoonery. The Lightning God points at his opponent, his index finger crackling.

"Huh. That wasn't the finger I was expecti-"

*BRRRRZZZZZZZZT*

A pin sized sliver of lightning connects with Gamzee's forehead, sending a reverberating electrical current bouncing around his insides. Enel holds the connection for a few moments with a bored look on his face, his victim's body jittering and glittering. Letting out a humongous yawn, the god finally severs the current. The fool crumples immediately, first to his knees and then to the white floor.

Well, that was anticlimactic.

"Disappointing. Pathetic. Downright lame! These are all words that I can and will use to describe in excruciating detail how I killed you to that insipid asshole Strazio Rockwell," Enel hisses, "that is to say if there's anything left of him."

Gamzee's hands twitch, clenching ever so slightly.

"That's right, you fucking fool. I imagine by now my allies have already torn your piece of shit friend apart. That's what you get for associating with delinquents. He was already a walking corpse, they were doing the boy a service at this point," The Lightning Man spits, turning his back on the fool. Now, how in the hell was he supposed to get out of this device Batman created? Bats certainly didn't leave an instruction manual.

*clicktink*

Hm? What was th-

Oh. Oh dear.

A small metal canister rolls right into the god's feet. Enel's mantra kicks in a second too late, and his entire world is engulfed in white and the ringing my god the ringing and the spinning everything was spinning and-

Gamzee roars, my God how he roars. It's a guttural, terrible sound, something that would be associated with monsters as opposed to mere men and mortals. He rushes Enel, wrapping his ashen arms around the god's waist. Enel tries to shock the bastard on contact but is so disorientated he barely emits the voltage of a joy buzzer.

The Bard of Rage, however, never underperforms.

The smell of ozone floods their nostrils as violet lightning sparks to life in the very air around them and Gamzee releases the pent up rage energy in an electrical discharge. It scorches both of their bodies as the purple explosion envelopes the two fighters, the blast leaving black burn marks in a corona on the white floor. Before his opponent can shake off the haze and daze of this combined attack, the High-Blood lifts his opponent up and over in a suplex, the god's collarbone colliding with the charred ground.

*CRACK*

Mmm! Yes, Gamzee felt that one. He motherfucking loved it, he savored it. He uses this momentum to roll over Enel's contorted body and jump high into the air, not daring to let go of his enemy's waist. As the Rage energy threatens to boil over, Gamzee slams the pompous god into another vicious piledriver. Upon contact with the verse's floor, a violently fruity explosion consumes the both of them in a glorious display, a mushroom of rainbow colored smoke visible for miles on end.

When the multi-colored dust clears, Gamzee is standing over a heap of a prime called Anal, strands of wispy rainbow curling off both their bodies. The clown's breathing comes in hoarse rasps, straight from his mouth. The previously blank page of the iso-verse now looked as though it hosted a massive neon paint rave, dustings of every color imaginable coating the ground.

"Get up!" Gamzee screams, purple spittle flying from his mouth. He aims a swift kick - with his good leg this time, mind you - at his prey's midsection, sending him rolling across the verse a few yards.

"I'm gonna create a beautiful picture out of this canvas here," the clown bellows, jabbing a finger down at the floor, "your blasphemous blood will be my miraculous fingerpaints, peasant lookin' motherfucker!"

"How dare you!" Enel screeches at the neanderthal, "Is this a fucking joke!?"

"There ain't no more jokes to be had, pretendin' pretentious chump. All that's left is the games, motherfucker," Gamzee laughs and laughs, the sordid sound ringing off the endless void of the iso-verse, "Welcome to the dark carnival!"

800 words

Gamzee used a flashbang.

Gamzee went Sober, a T1 Power-Up new stats are as follows.

ATK: 4 + 2 = 6
DEF: 3 + 0 = 3
SPD: 3 + 1 = 4
TEC: 2 + 2 = 4

He will remain in this state until the end of the battle. That's two more posts counting this one so that's 3 SP

He also used T1 SuperMove Super Atomic Double Juggalo Backbreaker. Enel could not defend due to the effects of the flashbang and not having any defensive supermoves. Thats 4 SP

Current SP stands at 0/4

[Strazio Rockwell]

Strazio kept one eye on the dark-skinned man that stood before him. Something buried just below the surface layer of consciousness kept scratching at the inside of his skull. Perhaps it was just exhaustion. Perhaps not. Not that it mattered. They shared a common goal and that was enough for the Avatar to bridge the uneasy gap of unfamiliarity. He exposed his back to the stranger and lead the way. There was that split second of tension, the kind of tension where you hand someone a loaded gun and have them point it at your head. Yeah, that kind of tension, that relinquishing of control.
 
The mansion itself looked a lot better on the outside than it did on the inside. Water spots stained the ceiling and in one corner the floor had given way to a sinkhole. Several scraps of furniture littered the main atrium and Strazio chose to park his ass atop an overturned desk. Tearan followed and stood several feet from the mage.
 
“You’re injured,” Tearan observed.
 
Strazio spit up a pearl of red slime, “yeah, well, shit happens, you should see the guys that did this to me, one of them’s a real heartless bastard you know that?”
 
“You are wary, you think I mean to bring you to harm?”
 
“I don’t know,” Strazio said, “how about you tell me what you mean to bring?”
 
The dark-skinned stranger closed his eyes. There was a slight, almost inaudible, vibration in the air. It was at this moment that Strazio realized he couldn’t move. A warm feeling washed over his flesh and he tried to break free from the man’s grip. His wounds writhed and began to evaporate, months worth of recuperation done within seconds. While it wasn’t a complete recovery, his hand was still M.I.A. he was still leagues better than he had been moments ago.
 
“Well fuck,” Strazio said, examining his recovered body, “that’s one hell of an introduction, what’s your name?”
 
“You may call me Tearan,” the Shadow answered.
 
Strazio unclipped two vials from his belt. He tossed the blue-filled potions towards his newfound friend.
 
“Name’s Strazio Rockwell, Defender of Darkshire, it isn’t much but those’ll give you back some of your juice,” he said and turned towards the door, “one thing you should know about me before we get started, I like to play rough, I like to play very rough.”

Using Tearan's "Temporal Regeneration Augmentation" Strazio and Tearan will each recover 6 points of HP. Tearan will expend 6 SP and in return Strazio gives him 2 elixers.

[MADBULL34]

Sergeant John Estes slowly hobbled his way out the broken remains of the open aired mall. The fight against Vic Hendy, who turned out to actually be the major crime boss Harlan Higgs, had seemed to be going well at first. Hit for hit, blow for blow, the two mortal enemies seemed evenly matched, until a wild transformation had overtaken the once hip and foppish rogue. Although seemingly feral at first, the mascarading mafioso somehow was able to channel incredible and explosive magic. The burst had been overwhelming for a beat cop like the meaty Mad Bull, but it's final power had shown to be far greater than imaginable, causing extreme levels of damage, even to the hulking body of the mighty law officer.

The burly cop had been brave to have attempted to fight through the onslaught, but even the hardheaded, hard-nosed Sergeant knew the only choice now was to make way for the safe house and seek out assistance. With half his limbs in a very bad condition, the going was tough. An arm and a leg were almost irreparably injured, but somehow, deep within the lawman's soul, he found the urge to carry on.

The way through the abandoned mall was arduous. Flaming bits of old wood, torn and dusty chunks of plaster, warped and twisted steel beams all created a terrible hellscape of destruction. At times, the injured officer would need to crawl on hands on knees through the obliterated corridors of ramshackle shops, but some inner drive to prove all the doubters wrong pushed him forward, further, on and on.

Harlan Higgs, the Master of Disaster, the Maestro of Mischief, and now the Furious Furry, was no where to be seen. With that danger absent, the only path left was for Sergeant Estes to continue moving onwards.

C-17 to C21

[MADBULL34]

Sergeant John Estes leaned heavily against the dirty brick wall of a nearby building, shaded in the dark corner of a forgotten alley in Mega City One.  It had felt like it had taken several hours, almost a full day for the burly but beaten law officer to rally his body and spirit, beginning the long trek back to the Zone C Safe House.
 
His whole body shuddered as he tried to steady himself on his good foot, easing the weight off the shattered remains of the other. Pain crescendoed throughout his body, but the hard headed cop set himself to focusing through the pain, and looking towards the goal ahead - safety and respite within the safe house.  With a quivering hand, Mad Bull drew out his Smith & Wesson revolver, finding comfort in the weight of the weapon. He gazed at the other hand, broken and useless, and sighed.
 
The battered cop tucked the weapon in his armpit and fished into his pants pocket. With a grunt of agony, he withdrew six brass shelled slugs. As his fingered the rounds of .38 ammunition in his palm, the revolver dropped from his armpit and hit the ground noisily. With a filthy curse at his lips, he slowly lowered himself to the ground and sat by the gun. Methodically, almost meditatively, the Sergeant began to load each of the six rounds into the accompanying six chambers of the cylinder.  Each metallic shell was like a cage, holding back the incredible violence held within each bullet. Mad Bull found peace in this thought, knowing that within the palm of his hands he would wield the power of life and death. In a world of chaos and uncertainty, there was a comfort in that, knowing that you too could personify that chaos and become yet another catalyst to its continued reign of destruction.
 

Moving from C21 to the Safehouse 

[The Future Warrior]

The ground started to level off, the steep rocky slopes giving way to a more gentle incline and grasses and dirt starting to reappear here and there. From there, it smoothed out even more into the fringes of the city. Familiar ground, even if not exactly pleasant ground to be upon for Graowr. "Here we go. Should be easier going, now!" she said enthusiastically.

Behind her, a matching set of pained groan and aggravated hiss met her hearing as she turned around to see Cell setting Archer down. Down here, on level ground, it should be easier for him to walk, even with his bum leg. "Jusst take it easy. Not in a hurry here, are we?"

"No, I don't think so...we should get back to the safehouse and try to meet up with God Enel, though. I'm sure he's done with his fight by now, or almost done!" That thought was equal parts heartening and worrying. It meant she'd have to contend with facing God Enel and admitting to him she'd let Strazio get away, which made her cringe and hurt inwardly just thinking about it. With any luck he'd manage to take it in stride and not be too upset...there was always the chance he'd relish the chance to be able to find him and exact his revenge personally now, after all. And in the state he'd been in, the frantic pace he'd been forced to put on to escape her couldn't have been good for his body. Just have to hope he was still banged up and barely hanging on.

"Come on, it's this way!" By now, she was starting to learn her way around this city, and was getting pretty familiar with the location of the safehouse and how to get there. Much as she didn't like it, it really was a good place to rush through and get lost in.

[quote[Graowr, Cell and Archer: moving from E5 to C3[/quote]

[Enel]

The kick was like being hit in the midriff by a cannonball. I’ve never felt anything like it. Not since …

No. Never.

I roll to my feet, staggering in shock. He’s stronger than any opponent I’ve faced before in the Omniverse. What raw, brute force. Perhaps he’s a Zoan Fruit user. That would explain the horns. A mythical creature … the troll. Yes. That would explain much.

He barrels towards me. What speed! He’s injured, but even still he’s more than a match for me.

But …

I grin.

I did ask for this.

I use my full speed and jump high, flipping over him and raining down bolts. These hit harder than the ones before; as they explode against his purple frame, I see bloody abrasions left in their wake, leaking purple. Ooo. So he is no normal human. Well thank fuck for that!

“You know,” I say, spinning my staff. “I regret but one thing.”

He snarls. His voice is deeper, throatier, more feral now. Definitely a Zoan Fruit user. “What’s that?”

I charge up the lightning storm. “There’s no cameras in here to witness me kill you.”

He lunges at me. I didn’t think I’d get much time to charge, but he’s not giving me a second’s breathing room. Instead of firing the lightning, I can only send it, gathered, to the point of his attack.

But it’s enough to drop him, even though I feel the force of his failed punch through the gold of my staff. And that’s enough. I let the staff slip so that I’m holding it by the very end, rear it back, and then swing it as hard as I can towards his head.

He catches it. “Don’t underestimate me, motherfucker.”

Mantra.

He punches me in the stomach.

In the half-second I have to decide whether to let go of my staff or not, he makes the decision for me. I only have time to try and roll with the punch, and that’s … not exactly something you can do with a hit to your solar plexus. It propels me backwards I don’t know how far, and I land, sprawled, yet again, on the floor. Fuck sake.

He’s barrelling towards me again. I don’t even have time to wallow in my anger, to vent my frustration.

If this keeps up, he’s gonna kill me.

“Not … again!” I scream, letting loose my full power in an explosion of sparks. I mean it. I will not lose to this troll. He’s practically dead! I just have to overload his nervous system, fry his nerves until they can’t carry his brain’s commands any more. Willpower and sheer stubbornness can’t deny the power of God.

I fly backwards, my legs practically skipping across the ground. I fire bolt after bolt in his direction, and although half of them miss entirely, I simply can’t afford to be stingy with my energy. He’s too strong. The other half of the bolts either graze him, adding to that already-substantial amount of bruising he’s got, or hit outright. He karate chops one of the well-aimed shots in half, and although it’s a sweet move, I can see the blood it leaves on his hand. How much longer can you keep this up, troll man?

But there’s a problem. The ground behind me is sloping upwards. Gradually. This place is a bowl – no, a sphere. I’m as trapped inside as the troll is.

I look towards him, and he realises this with a grin. He zigzags as I fire my last few bolts and turn to run.

He grabs for me, but I leg it at top speed. Up the side of the slope. Then I kick off, backwards, raining down more bolts upon his body. Hahaha. A smart man would jump and catch me midair, but apparently he’s not as acrobatic as myself. That troll fruit must make him too heavy to jump. All powers have a weakness, and I’ve found his.

“What’samatter?” I taunt, as I land behind him. “Getting tired?”

“Fuck you,” he snarls, charging up that purple electricity again.

“Nah, fuck that.” I interrupt, raining bolts upon his stationary form. Like I’m going to give him a chance to charge up that ability again.

“RrrrrRAAAAAARR!” He breaks it off, lightning trailing in his wake, and bursts towards me again.

This’ll keep me busy for a while. Wonder how Bats and co. are doing?

Enel is using his T1 Powered-Up Form, “100% Power”, for one round. 2 SP spent, 1 SP remaining. Stats:

ATK: 5
DEF: 3
SPD: 6
TEC: 1

Gamzee has Enel’s staff.

[The Future Warrior]

Heading through the city's streets, Graowr was struck again by how quiet it was. And it was never going to get old. There wasn't even the distant sound of a fight or something, or any sound of life anywhere. Just the occasional dripping of water and patter of rain as it continued to lightly sprinkle, the downpour finally abating. It didn't exactly leave her spirits good, but it was a change. The oppressive gloom and doom of the rain keeping everything just that little bit more dark and shrouded from sight was lifting. And while it was still an empty, dead city shrouded in fog, it was an empty, dead city shrouded in fog that you could actually sort of see. Kind of. It was a welcome change for the better.

"Sso tell me again, blueberry...where are we headed to?" Cell hissed, increasing the pace of his strides to catch up to her. "Not that I don't admire the ssccenery out here or anything, but...it'ss sstarting to get old already."

Graowr's answer was quick in its coming. "We're headed for the safehouse here. There should be a bunch of people there, and some of them are people we can ally with!"

"Greeeaaat...ssuper, a bunch more people hanging around." Cell, somehow, didn't seem terribly pleased with this revelation.

"Hey, maybe it'll turn out for the best." The faux optimism in Archer's tone as he spoke up was obvious, even the smallest, bluest member of the tired group. "Worst comes to worst we just cut and run." Bug-man and bubblegum-girl both swung a stare to look down at Archer's bum leg and then back up to his face. "Okay, okay, so it'll be a very generous interpretation of running. But we'll get out of there quick as we can, alright?"

Graowr, Cell and Archer, moving from C3 to C16

[Deadpool]

”Why the fuck didn't you just repair my sword earlier then?”

Jak smiled. “Because you're a dick,” he replied, “and sometimes deserve a does of your own medicine.”

Deadpool chuckled; the eco warrior was right—he was a dick. ”Well, it's fixed now, so I suppose I won't be using your head as an anvil to straighten it.” He sheathed the katana back in its rightful place—over his right shoulder.

The duo climbed over the iron carriage obstructing their exit, and started traversing the narrow passageway to the outside. They walked in a single file, with Jak following closely behind the mercenary.

Deadpool winced as sunlight struck his mask while exiting the tunnel. He shielded his eyes with a forearm, and surveyed their surroundings.

They were in the steel mill's yard. The parallel rails that extended through the passageway stretched out for another handful of meters before forking into a multitude of train tracks, where idle hopper carts contained mounds of coal; there were at least twenty of these tenders scattered along the rails. When the mill still had life, those tenders would be emptied by laborers, who dumped the coal into a pit where the conveyor would then feed it to the furnace; other hopper carts would also be transporting finished steel to wherever it needed to be transported.  Now, those carts were just makeshift barrier that separated the old industrial age from the modern age.

Beyond the train tracks, Deadpool could see the city's downtown area as he peered. ”We're almost there, John Holmes.”

Jak tinkered with his watch until it produced the information he sought. “We should be able to reach the safe house before our collars turn us into splattered lasagna.”

”Yeah,” Deadppool replied, “especially if you'd quit dragging your dick and put some pep in your step.”

Jakpool moving from C20 to C21

[Dane Regan]

That was probably the shortest sleep of my life. But, quality, more than quantity, right? My nap was a pretty good in the quality factor. I may have just passed out on the first chair, but it was still ace.

I was woken up by my tablet making beeping sounds. A health item or something was dropping north of here. It wasn't too far, but it wasn't close enough that I could guarantee getting to the site first. Examining the office properly for the first time, I noticed Clownpiece sleeping in the corner. There were some other people about, but I was in a hurry. "Clown? You up for more adventures?"

She mumbled, rubbing her swollen face. It didn't look like she'd be able to see very well, and she still couldn't walk. I picked her up and relaxed her body along my back while holding onto her arms.

"Huh? Whaa... what's happening?" Good, she was at least partly awake.

"You and I, Miss portable flamethrower, are going to get a drop item. Just grab on, burn everyone in our way, and enjoy the ride." I shrugged, pushing her higher up my back so she could grip on more easily.

She giggled, then paused. "What happened to Cirno?"

"We got separated, and she got caught by a couple of guys after our items. She told me to run off with our stuff and is probably dead by now because of it." I paused. "We're back at square one."

Clownpiece wasn't as sad as I expected. But, I guess death wasn't the end here or anything - at least for primes like us. 

"You got everything of yours?" I asked, scanning her makeshift living area. Her tablet and another one of the plastic sticks were left lying around. As dumb as it was, I grabbed both the items. Another fine addition to my collection.

Time to go get some items and stuff.

Danepiece (Like One Piece but better) moving from Safehouse C to C21

Dane's Selfie Stick Count: 3

(I know you said roughly how Clown would act, but I'm putting off that conversation and using the excuse of her just waking up and also being injured to avoid it. I'm not confident I can get her attitude right.)