(Preshow) Preshow Facility

[Skeletor]

Skeletor stepped into the Preshow facility with a strange sort of familiarity. Although the Syntech teleport chamber was far cleaner than Snake mountain would ever be, the scientific equipment reminded him of his own laboratories. He would have to make some significant changes if he was going to be spending much time amongst the barbaric trolls.

The hallway was awash with lights and large personalities. Combatants tangled with their future competition and the paparazzi alike, and the shift in tempos from the frozen village cause Skeletor’s reaction to be slower than normal. He could see several conversations and easily more primes than he had found in any one place before. There were even more than Darkshire, but no one that Skeletor recognized. There must be more troublemakers than he had thought, or perhaps it was not only the Elders who banished people to this place? For the moment nearly everyone’s attention was on two small figures, one of whom seemed to be a mouse, and the third warrior who had just arrived. Their importance was entirely meaningless to Skeletor, though he was mildly annoyed than none of the reporters felt inclined to interview him.

In large glowing overhead letters, various signs pointed the way towards a cafeteria or library, a plethora of locations meant to sate the impatience of the contestants while they waited. The Warlock placed his hands on his hips staring up at the sign. while Skeletor was tempted to see what knowledge Karl Jak thought worthy of inclusion in his official library he had more pressing concerns. Never go to a battlefield blind if you can help it, and never pass up a chance to make the odds more in your favor. The warlock strode over to the nearest employee, a hapless camera operator, and stood intimidatingly close to the poor intern.

“Listen up, you snot-faced slackjaw! I am here for the tournament.” Skeletor spoke imperiously, “Where is this Dante’s Abyss being held?” the bleary-eyed teenager looked at him with a confused expression.

“Dude, you’re like, already here…” was the mumbled reply, though the whelp wasn’t able to look Skeletor in the eye socket. Thoroughly cowed, perfect.

“NOT the facility, you addle-brained dolt!” Skeletor shouted, drawing glances from a couple of Syntech’s security guards, “Where will the fights themselves be held?” the same vacant expression met his, but the intern slowly started nodding as he finally seemed to catch up.

“they’re all over the place man! We have to teleport people to the bunch of them.”

“Show me this, teleportation chamber. It sounds important.” Skeletor demanded.

“I mean I guess if you want directions…” the intern shrugged, and led Skeletor away from the reunion of Protomouse and down the hallway a short ways. He stopped and pointed towards a large room filled with machinery and what Skeletor could only assume was the teleporter. “You can’t go anywhere yet though, cause the tournament hasn’t started, and Karl doesn’t want anybody breaking anything.” The intern turned and ambled back towards the unfolding story before he missed any headline material. Skeletor watched him go, purple cloak pulled about his shoulders, and death’s head skull ever-grinning.

“No of course not. That could cause all kinds of problems! Nheehehehehee!” Skeletor cackled before striding off in the direction of the Teleportation hub.

Skeletor is going to be in the teleportation hub to see if he can tamper with the machinery. Anyone who wants to catch him in the act is welcome to.