Zone C -- Megacity One

[Dane Regan]

I hid down an alley as yet another group passed up. That drop site looked like it was going to get crowded.

"Screw it. Clown. We're heading south instead. Gonna win this death game. Between us, we probably make at least one fully functioning pyromaniac swordsman."

I turned around entered the building I was nearest to. The window was open so I hopped through it. It didn't take long to find and then ascend the stairs. I wasn't in a major hurry, so I saved myself the effort of having to climb the thing. I'd probably be fine, but the less tired I was by the time I got where I wanted to go, the better. Clownpiece was fairly light, but trying to climb up to the top of one of these buildings with a moving thing on your back was twice as hard as trying to do so with an unmoving one.

Once we made it to the top, I kept my body down where possible and began jumping across the buildings. Clownpiece didn't exactly make this easy, but I figured it was worth it for the purpose of bringing a flamethrower to any of my future fights. With my current broken arm, I reckoned I probably only had one good dual left in me. Unless, of course, I had a sufficient edge over my opponent. In this instance, Clownpiece was that edge. I wasn't exactly using her or anything though. She benefitted too. She'd have no chance without healing or someone to assist her movements; her flying only worked in the Colosseum.

I scanned my tablet, memorising the route and getting all the information I could about where we were heading. My stealth magic would be useless here unless I left Clownpiece behind. Although any potential attackers had nothing to gain besides my collection of selfie sticks, so trying to hide from people may have been a waste of time.

Danepiece moving from C21 to C20

Dane's Selfie Stick Count: 3

[Dust]

Teleported from B6 to SH C by Karl.

Illidan found himself disorientated by the sudden change of scenery in his mind's eye. It had been bold strokes of trees, brush spittle that were bushes, and grass that fluttered in the air like fur, now it was the short shag - almost plastic - carpet under his feet, and walls of concrete. He could sense chairs and decor and feel the cool air of the A/C on his sweat covered back. Feeling woozy, he touched his temple and fell into the comically small but comfortable chair and grumbled to himself while he tried to feel less seasick by the teleportation process.

Dust stood where he was, the blood of the fairy still dripping from his claws, and his mind elsewhere while he stared deeply at a conveniently placed business magazine with a stylish blonde who probably had no idea what she was modeling for but smiled nevertheless. His deadly claws slowly receded in silence and became normal flesh colored short nails while he remained distant. 

"Was that the first time you've killed?" Illidan offered conversation in the form of an annoyed growl, but did not look up at the man that stood so still in front of him that he appeared to be one of those trees for a moment. 

Dust's eyes glanced over at the demon hunter in the small chair, and then back at the magazine. "No." Wolf said, in a voice weighted down by truth and something they both would understand. 

Illidan would know this better than anyone who had their eyes on Dust, killing was easy. This man, this simple human who had fought beside him; who saved him, has killed before. He probably did not have the kill count as a 10,000 year old dark elf who's past was littered with bodies of his enemies, but the blood on Dust's hand did not just amount to one or two people in his lifetime. Now that he was a prime, it wouldn't just be one lifetime either. There was a moment of silence, but they both heard the dripping of cold blood tapping against the carpet.

Starring at the magazine, Dust was suddenly struck to the core with the reminder that he had a payment to make. If that blonde was here in the office he would have grabbed her and kissed her the moment it hit him. Illidan was the only candidate for his kissing payment, but if the idea of kissing Dawn again with the bruise on his cheek still stinging gave him the sense that it was a bad idea, kissing Illidan felt dangerous beyond what his internal calculator would allow him to risk.

"I just need to step out for a bit." SW-808 explained, and then moved away from the magazine and his travelling companion.
The shirtless man stepped outside the safe house and apparently up behind Dane and Clownpiece. He towered over them, as he tended to, his hair brushing across the bare bits of his shoulders where he still wore his borrowed backpack. His eyes bore into them, unintentionally he was sizing them up and debating on grabbing one for his payment. The blood of their fallen companion still slipping down his fingers.

The very same Cirno they were talking about moments ago.

The two seemed either too dense to notice they were being preyed upon, or too occupied with their own minds, because with their past behind them they walked away from him. Dust watched for a moment before looking around. He could spot a few other people in the area, including another elf. He recognized Jak from the bar, but didn't feel close enough to offer him a friendly wave. It would seem the knife-eared worrior was also busy. Even as the tablet began to chirp to tell him the reasons why everyone was leaving the area, he turned his back on the outside world and moved back inside. Maybe there was a syctech staff member he could make out with before bed.

Karl's Chippendale's, minus Gildarts, will stay in the safehouse. (At least until I get off work..)

[Deadpool]

They must have entered the shopping district—every store either had the word 'clothing' or 'boutique' in its name, and the ones that didn't were designer names (Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Versace). Their storefronts were pristine; windows showcased mannikins attired in high-fashion, which only the absurdly wealthy could afford.

Deadpool imagined that Karl visited the area often, going from store to store, completely emptying each of their seasonal stocks to satisfy his taste of swagger. Employees trembled as they saw him near their doors, frightened at the prospect of doing the arduous task of removing everything from their shelves.

Jak rolled his eyes over the stores, unamused. He couldn't picture himself in a Tom Ford suit, or Ferragamo shoes—he didn't even know what the damn difference was between brands, nor did he care. Besides, in his home universe, he murdered too many creatures to consistently afford dry-cleaning.

Deadpool clapped the eco warrior's shoulder. ”We should get you some skinny jeans.”

“Skinny jeans?” Jak furrowed a bro. “Why? That would make my shoes look like banana boats.”

”My shoes'll look like bananer boats,” the mercenary whimpered as he imitated a popular internet meme. ”When you see the looks on women's faces as their eyes follow your bulge to your kneecaps, you'll see why you should wear skinny jeans.”

“If there so cool, why don't you wear them?” Jak countered.

”Because I have extremely cut thigh muscles—I mean you can see them now—which would overlap and partially hide my tremendous penis,” the mercenary replied. ”You, on the other hand, have bird legs; they look like someone attached two broomsticks to scarecrow to make it appear more humanoid.”

Jak still had his apprehensions, but before he could flatly reject the idea, the mercernay threw his arm around his shoulders and dragged him into the nearest urban boutique.

The two of them snatched what they could, stuffing their backpacks with clothing until they were bulging like children that had their fill; when their collars started to blink green, they rushed for the safe house.

Jakpool moving from C21 to warehouse

[Dane Regan]

I moved across the rooftops at a leisurely pace. No point acting recklessly when I would be able to reach my destination in time regardless of my slow pace. Acting recklessly hadn't gotten me anywhere in the past here. Admittedly, taking risks was probably my only way to actually win this competition due to how far behind I was. But at this point, I wasn't really aiming for the win. I was aiming to do well. If that meant surviving longer than most others, or simply sticking out my neck to collect one or two more items, then so be it.

I stopped, eyeing up the long jump I was about to make. It was doable, but I figured I should warn Clownpiece first. "Hold on tight, this one is gonna be more than just a little hop."

"Don't worry Dane, I've got your back," Clownpiece spoke cheerfully as she tightened her hold. Her joke wasn't lost on me. I wasn't sure whether I should laugh, sigh, or be proud of how similar that joke was to something I'd say. I settled on grinning.

I bent my knees slightly, getting ready for the run-up. My feet kicked off the tiled roof, propelling my body forwards step after step. I knew my pace length, so the distance was calculated just right as my last foot stepped on the rim of the building top. Our hair blew behind us as we plowed through the air. My feet landed together on the other side half a metre away from the edge. As I thought before, it wasn't a dangerous jump. I could make further ones. There was just no point in making something so trivial a risk. Especially when we were currently making good progress towards our current short-term goal.

Danepiece moving from C20 to C15

Dane's Selfie Stick Count: 3

[Handsome Jack]

The duo had once again become a trio, and as much as I hate to say it, Blueberry's arrival was welcome. Neither myself nor Archer had much life left in us, both figuratively and literally, and her health and energy was kinda infectious. Even Archer seemed to be picking up the pace as they moved through the city streets, in spite of his bum leg. And, even better, we'd been alerted to a drop zone nearby that would provide us with some much needed medical attention. We hadn't needed any more provocation than that to get our asses moving. With any luck, we'll be able to swipe it and leave before anyone else could contest us for it.

We'd done what we could while we were in the bunker in the mountains, but a few bandages and a splint weren't gonna do a whole lot with damage this severe. My mangled hand was wrapped up so heavily that it was practically just a ball on the end of my arm. It'd be useless if we ran into any trouble. We'd braced Archer's knee as best we could, but the supplies that had been left in the Safehouse were meager at best. I guess it was better than nothing, but not by much. We definitely needed to get a-hold of some real treatment or neither myself nor Archer would make it through another scuffle.

Even with all the good news, I was still in a piss-poor mood. Sure, it had improved enough that I was cursing and being my smarmy self again, but kinda hard to be happy when your body's been run through a blender. Archer, on the other hand, seems to be dealing with things a lot better. I try to match my companions' mood, but it's not easy. Keeping up with their pace was a lot easier as we continued on towards our goal.

Moving from C16 to C17

[Handsome Jack]

“Hey man,” I say as I look over my shoulder. “Weeeeee'reeee.... uh... Where the fuuuuuck are you?”

I barely register the burn of electricity scorching my carapace as my eye widens at the view behind me. Which is nothing. Well, not NOTHING. But nothing but empty streets and abandoned cars. Archer is no where to be seen. Where'd he fucking go? Peeps don't just disappear into thin air. My mind works furiously to figure out what could have happened. Did someone or something snatch him up? No... we would have seen or heard something. Maybe he just got lost. A concussion will do that to a fellow.

I look ahead to see Blueberry still skipping gaily away, not a care in the world. Ugh... As much as I appreciate the fact she's here and all... if I have to deal with her without my Secret Squirrel pal, I'll probably kill myself. Not bluffing, I will literally shove my tail through my other eye before I have to deal with THAT all alone. Hell, I don't even really want her helping me look for the guy. One, his bum leg means he couldn't have gotten too far, so we don't need a large search party. Two, she's more likely to get lost than HE is. And three, if it takes awhile to find the guy, it's better she go on ahead to the drop zone and grab the item for us.

My mind settled, I sneak on off while she blathers on about some Anal guy she met and how great he is. I knew it, of course. Had her pegged for a freaky bitch. I start retracing my steps, eye scanning the area for clues. And eventually I spot one. A tell-tale splotch of crimson blood on the street. Yup. That's him. Too fresh to be any other human who'd been here before us, and I don't bleed red. Pretty sure Blueberry ain't on the rag either, and since she's uninjured...

ANYWAY! I follow the trail into a nearby two-story. Not much to speak of, just a little quaint place huddled in the middle of some office buildings. Probably used to be a McYajirobe's or some shit; there's plenty of tables and chairs around and a counter towards the back. I disregard it all as I follow the blood to another door nestled off to the side. As I wonder where it could lead, I hear the sounds of struggle from the other side and instinct kicks in. So does the door when my foot meets it and the sound of a scream accompanies the gruesome sight before me. The stench of death washes over me and I fight the urge to vomit as I back away from what I've uncovered.

“Come on, dude,” Sterling says from atop the porcelain throne. “Can't a guy shit in peace?”

Moving from C17 to C8. Waiting for drop.

[Dawnika Snow]

The blonde took another glance at the wrist piece that decorated her arm. Her direction was keeping true, heading straight for the mark it followed - in other words, Graowr. Her teeth ground together just thinking about her stupid face and her stupid voice. It would look so much better if she were to decorate the cyan not-monster's profile with her fist print. Everything looks better after eating a knuckle sandwich.

The mist was still dense as could be. More things to annoy her on top of the bullshit that this stupid fucking island had already put her through. She still wanted to attempt to win this competition, but first, she wanted to indulge in the pleasure of smashing Graowr into a blueberry pancake. She already knew Graowr's abilities or quite a few at the least. She was able to stretch her body like she was made of elastic, she could empower herself by screaming and she seemed to be a close combat fighter that used her hands, like herself.

The misty roads fogged over her, getting slightly easier to see through the further she got away from the safe house in the center of town. It was nice to get away from this stupid city, but somehow she knew she would have to return to the urban area. She really hated all of the areas on the island and couldn't wait to be ejected from it, but she didn't want to leave dead. If she did leave dead, she would surely take someone with her. More specifically, Graowr.

The buildings grew shorter and the mist less defined as she entered the next section of the city. Erika stopped for a moment to catch her breath, then looked back down at the watch. She looked up in the direction the compass planned to lead her and continued on her vengeance quest.

C21 > C16

[The Future Warrior]

Graowr had arrived at the scene of the drop zone and sat by to wait on it to actually drop, keeping watch on the area for any sign of anyone who might want to show up and crash the party. She wasn't really expecting anyone, given how long it had been since the item drop and no one showing up yet, but...it never hurt to be careful, just in case.

She had taken up perch on the rooftop of a one story building, in a low crouch. Pink eyes slowly swept back and forth, scanning over the area. And catching sight of a streak of purple, the flash of a parachute as the item came tumbling down. "Oh, hey! There it is!"

"Mine mine mine mine mine!" Cell's voice suddenly snaps her out of her excited daze of item-finding and he lopes by on the street below, heading toward the item as it tumbles and drifts down. It hasn't even touched down fully before he's on it, til lashing around and smashing open the lid of the container. Retrieving the item, he tosses it up and down in his hand, gripping it tightly. "All mind, ssuckers!" he says, just as Archer comes staggering and stumbling around the corner.

"Yeah, yeah, you're the king of the castle and you got the prize..." the secret agent grumbles. "Jeeze. Can't even let a man shit in peace. What was it, anyway?"

"No idea." Cell stows it away in a pocket of his increasingly tattered-looking pants. "We can check it out later, when we're not out in the open. We're a big, walking target out here."

Graowr jumps down from her rooftop perch. "Well, hey, we got the item! That's what counts! Let's get back to the safehouse now!"

With no voiced disagreement, the group turns and heads back the way they'd come, headed for the safehouse.

Graowr, Cell and Archer, moving from C8 to C17

[The Future Warrior]

"So...you guys got in a fight that messed you up this bad?" Graowr asked again as they rolled on through the streets, back through the city.

"Yess," Cell deadpanned.

"It was...just one fight, though?" she pressed on. "Like, you weren't looking great after we fought, but you were still alright after that one. But now you guys are just..."

"...looking like we got put on the wrong side of a blender," Archer interrupted to finish. "Yeah. We know."

"Wow. Whoever it was must have been something else!" There was open wonder and admiration in her voice. She had brought her arms up, folding them behind her head and taken to walking backward, looking from one of her unlikely allies to the other. "You guys were pretty strong, yourself, so whoever managed to beat you so badly must be really strong!"

Cell's one good eye just narrows, his beak curling into an ugly snarl. "Yess. We get it. We got sspanked. Sstop talking about it now."

"Please, yes, stop already. We're trying not to relive our nightmare." Archer ran a hand over his eyes frustratedly. "It was bad enough the first time, and I'm not drunk enough to think it happened to somebody else and I was just watching."

The majin just blinked, her arms dropping to her sides. "Wow. That bad, huh?" She shrugged, turning back around and redoubling her pace. "Come on, let's go! Gotta get to the safehouse!"

A matched groan came from Archer and Cell as they did their best to hurry up, pace increasing by a measure only noticeable to someone walking alongside them. They did not look terribly happy about the increased speed the small, blue creature was forcing upon them, but they reluctantly put up with it and trudged along as best they could after her.

Graowr, Cell and Archer moving from C17 to C21

[The Future Warrior]

"...yeah, and then we followed them outside of the safehouse, and the bat guy gave God Enel this thing and he used it to trap the troll in some kind of weird bubble. Right after that, me and the batty dude were about to fight the angry guy but there was an alert about item drops. We got distracted for a second and the other guy ran off." Just remembering it made her angry herself, both hands clenching into fists. "I ran after him but man, he was fast..."

"How fasst we talking, here?" Cell interjected.

"Oh, man..." Graowr tilted her head, debating over it. "...like, maybe around as fast as you are? I dunno. He was just was fast. Faster than me. I couldn't even keep up. It was rough." She shook her head." So he got away. I kept running after him, trying to catch some sign of him, but with all the rain and fog and how dark it was, especially with him being so fast, I pretty much lost him completely."

"Sucks," Archer commented, his infinite wisdom summed up into one word. "Sounds like he could've used some violence-based therapy."

"I know, right?!" The majin just laughed. "But it's okay. Because he was pretty much dead on his feet when he ran off. I'm sure he won't be in much better shape even if he has more time to rest. I'll be ready to take him down if I ever see him again, that's for sure."

"Better hope he can't regenerate or ssomething," the bio-bug hissed. "That would ssuck."

"Hey, that reminds me." Pink eyes suddenly turned to regard Cell, the diminutive demon staring up at him. "Can't you regenerate?"

"....normally, yess. I don't wanna talk about it."

"OH LOOK THE SAFEHOUSE." Archer's sudden interjection but off any further banter, the battered agent aggressively hobbling forward to take the lead toward the bunker.

Graowr, Cell and Archer moving from C21 to Safehouse C

[Dust]

When Dust returned he found the slightly bowed chair empty of the dark elf, and instead found a girl as pale as the moon with silver hair and sky blue eyes running her slender fingers across the carpet where he had been standing. She was inspecting the small bit of fey blood that was now on the carpet with a frown firmly set on her pretty face. Dust thought she looked rather upset that there was a blood stain on the carpet, especially when he took in the fact that she was wearing a maid uniform. He lifted his hands up in a paw-like manner and felt strongly that he should just confess his crimes and hope she'd forgive him. He came close but even in his silence Tamsin Suzaku noticed his approach and looked up at him with her brilliant blue eyes.

Hokori's heart stopped for a moment, partially out of fear but mostly out of surprise. In this kind of campaign, he didn't think he'd come face to face with anyone so delicate and attractive. Heat pockets exploded at the edges his cheeks as he realized what he was thinking. To keep himself in line he sunk his teeth into his lower lip so hard the skin threatened to break, chewing it as he struggled to focus on anything other than kissing her. As a side-effect of his abilities he had to make a payment in the form of a kiss before or after tapping into his inner animal, but deep down he knew the sudden strength in this forced impulse had more to do with her than the cost of his fight...

"M-My apologies, miss." He stammered helplessly. "I didn't have any control ov-" Abruptly she stood up and brought her hand to her mouth, it was most likely out of reaction to seeing a man with his hands covered in blood than it was to bring attention to her pink lips, but his eyes settled on them nevertheless. Any hope he had at control unraveled at his fingertips.

"Are you hurt, sir?" she asked. Her voice has the clarity and gentleness of a pool made from the melted ice of a polar cap, it sent a shiver through his spine and more warmth though his bruised cheek. His silence seemed to only provoke concern that made her approach him cautiously but with purpose as she pulled a rag from her apron. Unable to speak or move, he helplessly watched her come closer and gathered his paws in the rag. Even as she gingerly patted at his fingers in an attempt to not agitate any hidden wounds, he struggled to form words.

As she tended to his fingers with the utmost professionalism and he melted in her hands, he couldn't help but continue to stare down at her lips. Were they naturally that color, or did she use cosmetics? When he realized he was being rude he snapped out of his trance long enough to grasp her hands in his. They were much larger than her own but cupped her's gently.

Staring at the blood-soaked cloth to be able to speak to her properly, he nervously tried to explain again. "N-No need to be so concerned, ma'am. This isn't mine if you just point me to a sink I will happily wash my own hands." He thought he was strong enough now to look up into her face, but making eye contact with eyes that made him think of the clear skies back in Costa del Sol made him realize he was weak. His face turned hot as he looked back at their hands.

But even if his hands weren't injured, Tamsin could see he was injured. While he had cast away most of the ice shards from his left side, she could still see chunks of it embedded in the bloody muscles of his left arm and side. Certainly that was his blood that was slowly still seeping out from around the glass like ice. She'd also notice his hands squeezing her's nervously through the cloth.

Illidan went to get some well deserved rest while Dust was out. Still in Safe House.

[Sterling Archer]

“We need to head south,” I muttered, popping open a cabinet and scanning the shelves. Spam, baked beans, potato flakes. I closed the door on the world’s worst breakfast and turned back to my companions. “Like, yesterday.”

“No, we don’t,” Cell replied, rubbing his good eye. “What possible reason would we have to go there?”

“Maybe you should ask yourself that question,” I snapped, leering at the humanoid bug.

“Look, I needed that gin worsse than you did, buddy,” the one-eyed roach asserted. “My f-UUUCKing hand iss practically a wad of usslesss meat. I need ssomething to kill the pain.”

“And I’m just skipping on this fucked knee of mine,” I said bitterly, rubbing the bloodied joint. Given, I didn’t exactly have the high-ground in terms of Most Pitiful Injury, but still.

“ZEDD!”

I looked away from Cell just in time to see Graw shoot off like an azure torpedo toward the open doorway, colliding with a familiar-looking person. The bubblegum abomination struck him with enough force to knock the pair back through the doorway and onto the waterlogged earth.

“Remove yourself from me, ridiculous creature!” The visored man managed to, with difficulty, raise himself to stand, despite Graw’s aggressively friendly bear hug. “RELEASE ME.”

“Aw man, Zedd, I’m SO glad to see you again,” the gummy gal said, beaming. “You did a really good job up there in the Colosseum. You won, right?!”

“My conquest of the levitating arena was successful,” the chrome-plated man replied, finally shaking Graw off and holding a Z-topped staff at her chest to allow him some breathing room.

“And I thought I looked terrifying,” Cell muttered in my ear, his polar bear eye twitching as he sized up Zedd. “He doessn’t...have sskin, doess he?”

A cringed at the comment, noting that he, indeed, seemed to be without dermis. “No, I don’t think he does. I can’t tell if that’s horrific or awesome. Or horrifically awesome.” I shook the thought from my head. “So, terrifying skinless chome man. Wanna hang with us?”

Zedd turned his attention from Graw, who had at last settled on merely grinning at the rest of the group with an almost vacant look. “Feeble humans and strange bug men are not my first choice in companions, but I am acquainted with this creature,” he growled, jabbing the blue woman’s shoulder with his staff. “As she regards you two as allies, I will likewise. For now.”

“Capital,” I responded, taking out my tablet. “I say we head south toward the resort and get some REAL food.” I zoomed in on the area in question and set a marker. “Hopefully that creepy asshole and his handmaid won’t be lurking around.”

“Fine,” Cell sighed, “we’ll get you your liquid lunch if it’ll shut you up.”

Getting back together with Zedd. The horrifically awesome foursome are heading out from Safehouse C to C21.

[Sterling Archer]

“Dear Karl,” I muttered, staring up into the mottled clouds. “Who do I have to kill to get you to turn off the water?”

We had left the safehouse after taking the bare minimum of supplies and refilling our waterskins from the tap. Other adventurers had entered and left while we were there, though we hadn’t bothered to track any of them. Kinda seemed like a dick move to stalk people on their way out of the safehouse. Besides, if we could score an item drop without having to risk getting battered any further, it wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.

“Do you think there will be any candy?” Graw asked, grabbing hold of my arm and squeezing hard enough to cause my fingertips to tingle. “I’m really hungry.”

“Uh...maybe?” I replied, scratching my head. “To be honest I don’t really remember much from the last time I was there. Between the concussion and all of the liquor I imbibed, I’m not the most reliable source.”

“Ssame,” Cell said, “Minuss the concusssion part. That’ss one of the few injuriess I HAVEN’T gotten yet.”

“Oh,” the bubblegum abomination responded, tapping her chin with her index finger. “Well, people vacation there so there’s probably something sweet.”

“Sso am I the only one taking thiss serioussly now?” the bio-android asked, clicking his beak. “We should be ssearching for dropss and people to murder.”

“I am in agreement with the large insect,” Zedd grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “We should find more wealth to lay claim to.”

I sighed, glancing down at our map. It honestly wasn’t a bad idea, but the ache in my recently wrecked knee and the continual agony bouncing around in my brainpan served as quite the distraction. “We’ll keep an eye,” I replied reluctantly. “You two look like you’re doing better than me and Bugsy, so be ready to take the lead.”

“Does that make me the leader now?!” Graw’s eyes opened wide, a smile spreading across her face.

“No.”

Team Horrifically Awesome moving from C21 to C20.

[Gamzee Makara]

*chompmunchcrunchsnorrrk*

"Ahahahaha! How do you like that, clown man?!" it's Enel's turn to laugh. He continues to rush past his opponent, up and off the curved white wall to release a flurry of blasts, and then back down to repeat the process over and over again. The fool was too slow and cumbersome, there was no way he could stop Enel's onslaught, no way he could survive this whirlwind of lightning and death and pain and-

You're gonna want -> this <-

Wait, what was that sound? Was that...music?

He looses another bolt of lightning and sticks the landing with a twirl. His relentless attacks kicked up quite a bit of dust that is, for lack of a better description, fucking lit. No, literally, that shit was flashing and carrying on like there was a music festival being thrown in the middle of a sand storm.

Then, the dust settles.

Gamzee's entire being is bathed in an ever-evolving palette of ridiculous colors, his hue changing every time Enel blinked. Argh, and this terrible, obnoxious tune! Where was it even coming from?! The clown stands there, a snarling smirk on his face. In his right hand is Enel's staff. In his left, he clutches a shimmering golden five-point star with two of the points missing.

He finishes chewing before shoving the rest of the Starman down his gullet. It tastes like miracles, with a heady whimsical aftertaste. He burps, all manner of iridescent sparklies and shinies erupting from his mouth like confetti streamers. There was not a scratch on him that wasn't there before Enel's fervorous assault. The Lightning Man is seething now, thrusting both hands outward to unleash a torrent of lightning on his cursed enemy. The troll sits there cackling instead of crackling, all traces of benevolence and sanity absent from his voice.

"You motherfuckin' tried," he screams, the lightning giving his face-painted visage a ghastly glow. The fool tosses his would-be assailant a cheeky wink for his troubles. He grabs the shaft of his opponent's staff with both hands and swings for the fences.

*THONK*

God Enel's vision goes fuzzy, the thick golden staff connecting with his temple. His legs wobble and buckle, threatening to fold. Gamzee ain't glowin' no more, but he seizes this opportunity and circles behind his foe, wrapping a muscular gray arm around his neck in a constricting headlock. The god gasps for air, so the troll does what any self-respecting fighter would do in his position; he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his last flashbang, and crams it into his opponent's mouth.

He pulls the pin and unravels Enel from the headlock in a spinning tango maneuver before diving away.

*BANG*

For fuck's sake, everything fucking hurt. Enel couldn't feel his face at all, and not in the pleasantly buzzy kind of way - it felt like teeth were missing. There was a familiar, high-pitched whine filling his long-lobed ears and his vision was whiter than Congress, complete with little black spots here and there. He decides in this moment that everyone that wasn't him fucking sucks.

Gamzee had retreated to a somewhat safe distance to watch this pompous asshole stumble around like a drunk who'd pissed himself trying to find the bathroom. The High-Blood licks his lips, feeding off the lingering pain of this fight and all those before it. He felt the holes in his stomach from Takezo's blade, the aches in his knee that the snowy-haired bitch beaten into him. The clown was ragged and worn, on the brink of certain death. Was he about to die? Yeah, probably. Gamzee was probably about to bite it.

But who gives a shit?

His throat's parched. That stupid star was flaky, must've been baked. Or uh, made of glass, maybe. Whoops. The alien pulls from his pockets the two concoctions Mama Godwin gave him and shotguns 'em, chugging them in seconds. It was time for a curtain call.

Gamzee raises his hands high into the air and howls in hysterical laughter. His ravenous eyes lock onto his target as a countless number of lightning bolts shoot from his palms into the white sky like violet stars.

"You are a false idol," Gamzee murmurs, not caring if his victim can hear him, "a nameless icon of heresy brought to your motherfucking knees by the Mirthful Messiahs."

"You are a myth!" he roars, his voice rising to a horrific crescendo, "a pathetic being brought to life by the motherfucking ignorance of the unenlightened!"

He exhales a shaky breath, his hands balling up into fists and dropping swiftly to his sides. The arrows of lightning all fall, the wrath of hell descending on a god in a magnificent meteor shower. Clusters of isolated explosions shake the ground beneath Gamzee's feet.

"This is the end of your motherfucking story!"

800

Gamzee used a Starman. Interpret this how you see fit, but I intended it to soften whatever blows he threw at me while powered up.

Gamzee used his last flashbang.

Gamzee drank two elixirs, SP = 0/4 -> 2/4

Gamzee used the T2 SuperMove The End Days. Enel is unable to block due to the effects of the Flashbang and no defensive SuperMoves. This brings his SP back down to 0/4

[Karl Jak]

As of yesterday, it is now Day 5, for the purposes of safehouses and posting requirements.

Day 5 will run until July 4th at 430 PM CDT

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face

Lord Zedd

Beep!

The group paused.

Beep.

Three of them turned to see Zedd angling his head to see the beeping collar.  "Why is this infernal trinket ma-"

The three were coated in the space lord's blood.

[spoiler]

#32 Lord Zedd DEAD

You guys need to sort out his stuff, kill each other over it, w/e you want, just shoot me a PM about it.
[/spoiler]

[The Future Warrior]

Graowr just stared at Zedd with a confused look on her face. "Hey, why's the collar-thing making that—" She was cut off by an explosion, and a splattering of gore. Knocked off her feet, and sprawled on her back. Still staring straight forward, as if looking questioningly at the galactic tyrant. Wondering why that thing around his neck was making the weird beeping noise. A film of blood coated her virtually from head to toe, staining her skin and everything else a dark, macabre red. For a long moment, she didn't even react. Just...laid there on the ground, arms splayed out to either side, exactly as she had landed.

Cell and Archer had regained their feet much more quickly. A little disheveled and out of it from their own injuries and now from being covered in blood and gore, but on their feet again. "Well...that ssucked," the bug-man rasped, wiping away a splotch of blood from over his eye. "Guesss we know for sure what these damn collars do now, though. A shame about the sskinlesss guy, though. He was..." He trailed off when Archer put a hand on his shoulder, jerking his head down at the still-grounded majin. "....what'ss her deal? She dead or ssomething?" The bio-android stepped over and lightly kicked at her prone form. No response.

"Big, angry and skinless was her friend," Archer reminded the giant roach-man. "Remember? Give her a minute."

"We don't HAVE a minute!"

It was at that moment that Graowr sat bolt upright, in a blur of motion. Her expression had changed, going from the normally happy, naive and almost child-like look of wonder and excitement about this whole competition to something...much, much darker. A deep, ugly frown had crawled onto her face, her eyes wider than it looked like should have been possible. She sat there for only a few more moments, staring at the bloody smear on the ground (and everything else) that had been Zedd. Slowly, ever so slowly, she shifted forward, onto her feet and wandered forward, as if on auto-pilot. One step after the other. Slowly, awkwardly, mechanically. She just stooped down among his remains, brushing aside the bits and pieces. Rolling his staff out of the way. And finally picking up the bag of items that the galactic warlord had had. Without saying a word, she clutched it tightly in one hand and stood back up. Without a word, she turned around again and started walking away, in the same way they'd been going. Still the same slow, plodding, mechanical pace.

Cell and Archer just shared a look between themselves. "Dibs on the staff," Archer finally said, stooping down to scoop it up as he hurried after the small, downtrodden blue demon.

"What the hell just happened here?" Cell snapped, loping after them.

Team Horrifically Awesome Minus One moving from C20 to C2

[Dust]

It didn't take long for Tamsin to offer to tend to his wounds for him. She wasn't particularly persistent about it, and he wasn't in any condition to deny her of anything. They moved into the bathrooms of the lobby, the water running at full blast into the sink, his massive form was on a borrowed stool, his strong arm propped on the counter, and his eyes stared at something on his right. He wasn't really focusing on any object in the room, he couldn't even if he tried. She was carefully pulling out pieces of Cirno's ice and dropping it in the sink. It turns out this was just ice, magically formed ice, but melted all the same when put into contact with hot water.

He winced as she lifted an ice shard that had been deeper than the other's out of his bicep. She apologized, and he weakly offered his still flawless grin, but then immediately they went back to their own business. She was helping him with his wounds, but he was busy keeping himself under control. Or trying to. It was harder now that they were in private and the chances of someone walking in on them was much smaller. Staring off into space has proven a lot more helpful than staring at her thought the mirror, however, it was impossible to not think about kissing her. This cursed part of him would leave him black and blue.

In fact, thinking about it, it already has. Never mind the fist mark that still laid bare on his cheek from Yuki - the last person he forcefully kissed in a safe house - he meant the cartoon character and the squid. The rain has washed the ink and the blue blood off his body, so there was only the bruise to remind him how badly he had it.

With his eyes still on the first aid kit they had raided, his thoughts turned to Gildarts and how Dust doubt the metal-armed man only had to deal with ghosts..

[Dust]

Suddenly the arm Tamsin was working on tensed up, even the tore muscle hardened beyond workable. When she looked up at the stranger - Dust as he introduced himself in the lobby upon simply asking for it - he had a face of agony. She almost dropped her tools at the thought of hurting someone she was painstakingly trying to help, especially with her past. She was in the process of apologizing when he cried out in complaint with words that not only stopped her, but confused her.

"I forgot about Gildarts!" His voice amplified beyond his intentions by the magic of bathroom walls. He was already reaching for the bag and digging through the old beat up thing, comically with one arm because he apparently was still aware she was working on his left. He was right handed, however, and easily snatched the backpack into his lap. The tablet was harder to handle one handed, until he propped it up on the bag and began to swiftly touch the screen finding the news app for the Colosseum fights. He remembered how confused the dark elf had been about the culling and guessed that was the first time either of the two had experienced it.

Hokori tapped the triangle for play on the highlight reel to keep it fast, and watched in awe as the strongest prime and a man with white hair fought like gods. It was inspiring and it left him feeling small in comparison despite his height advantage.. He had wanted very much to fight the mage he now watched, and still had the drive to do so, but watching the two men gave him some kind of idea how fast the fight would be had they gone at it in the middle of the forest just a few hours ago.

However, this gave Tamsin all the opportunity she could hope for to see the man she'd never gotten to properly introduce herself to. Recognizing Gildarts only in image and not name, she gasped quietly in recognition. She was very pleased to see him, but then remembered she had never finished tending to his wounds. That combined with rudely forgetting to get his name or give his left Tamsin with the sense of incomplete work. She couldn't let some game be the excuse of not staying professional.

"He's still alive." Dust said, with no hint of surprise or despair that came with keeping tabs on enemies or such. It was a blank sounding voice, as if he was reading a fact. "That means he's out there by himself." He tried to stand, but felt a strong grip on his arm that stopped him without much effort at all. He planted himself back in the stool and looked over, into her enchanting face. His face exploded with heat and he turned shy once more, but the admiration and loyalty he felt towards Gildarts pushed through. "But I gotta.. I gotta go find him.." He whimpered.

"We can go find him after I've fixed you up." Tamsin said gently, going back to her work.

---

Clean hands, bandaged wounds, and with a new friend, Dust and Tamsin leave the safety of the large building. With no direction but full knowledge that they couldn't go into the A or B zones, they head towards E. Dust was aware that this was the most unlikely spot to find Gildarts, but staring at the bruise for so long in the mirror while he shaved his scruff made him long to be sure Dawn was okay. And for the moment, he was thinking about something other than kissing the silver haired beauty at his side as the began to navigate the city.

Dust and Tamsin team up and move from SHC to C21

[The Future Warrior]

Her mopey wandering left her just stumbling around blindly, not even sure where she was going. At first it had been more or less to the south, down toward the flooded coast, she thought. But stumbling and tripping over the smallest bit of bit of debris in her path lead to her just...not heading that way for very long.

Eventually she had ended up just sitting down on the sidewalk, staring at the bag of items she'd picked up from Zedd's remains. Archer had meandered off, poking through the nearby buildings for any sign of something useful. Which left Cell to stand by, looming over her in a crouch. ".....sso, you being so quiet and down on yoursself is really sstarting to freak me out," he muttered, not looking at her directly. "Big, angry and sskinlesss was your pal, huh? Ssuckss he went out like that."

Graowr didn't respond, more than just shifting her posture slightly and looking pointedly away from the giant bug-man.

"....lissten, you do remember we're primes, right? Death isn't permanent?" the bug-man continued, insistently. "Sso he'll be back. Probably by the time you're out of thiss damn death tournament whatever the ffffFFFUCK it is." He lightly smacked her in the back with his tail. "Sso cheer up. You're bringing down the mood of everyone, here." He stood up, loping off to go join Archer, fishing something out of his pants pockets as he did. And as he rejoined his human ally, he cracked it open and drank it down.

For her part, Graowr was just still sitting there. Her hands had tightened into fists, clutching at the bag of items now. Much as she hated to admit it, Cell was right. They were supposed to be some kind of immortal, here. Zedd would be back. And knowing him, he'd be more angry about her moping around at him getting clown up than actually being blown up. She lifted an arm to wipe at the blood still plastering her face, only succeeding in sort of smearing it, and hopped back to her feet. She rummaged through the bag, fishing out the actual items for this competition and with a grim nod, stored them away with the rest of hers. The bag she tossed aside, and vaporized it with a swift ki blast.

"Let's go!" she said, her voice stern and solid if not exactly back to its cheerful tone. "We got a competition to win." And without waiting for her companions to acknowledge, she took off in a brisk jog. The sound of frantic scrambling and hobbling behind her assured her that her allies were following.

Graowr, Cell and Archer: moving from C2 to C16
Also, with Jeff's permission, Cell is using his healing item.