Zone B -- Forest

[Gamzee Makara]

Woo! New besties. Fun times and sick rhymes are all that's being had in Dante's Abyss. Besides, you know, having your leg fucked up.

"I feel like I should get that gracious business of apologizin' goin' on," Gamzee begins, following the dauntingly edgy duo, "I ain't mean to scream at y'all like that, shit was prolly unprofessional. You guys would not motherfuckin' believe what I happened to happen upon up there. Motherfucking jaguars out the ass! And I ain't talking the fancy car either, I mean like full on jungle cat lookin' kitty, and he was NOT happy to see me in his bizzle like dat. I mean I guess I was in his bizzle, shit, s'his jungle jangle and all that. You ever think about dirty night clow-"

"Stop talking," the one in black with the cute pointy ears said.

"Forgive my friend here," the one with all the cute weapons said, "he's a man of few words, and doesn't take kindly to anyone of a few more words. What's your name, kid?"

"Gamzee. Gamzee Motherfucking Makara," replies Gamzee Motherfucking Makara.

"Huh. Cool middle name," He muses. "name's Dante. You can call tall, dark and broody over there Batman."

Gamzee looks in utter shock. "Wouldja be surprised if I said you was the first motherfucker to not question my strange given moniker of motherfucking monikers?"

Dante shrugged. "Name's a name, no matter how funny or stupid it may be. Example? Bat boy here."

Whooooaaaaa.

"Whoa. That just blew my motherfuckin' mind, bro. Like a bomb."

Dante had a feeling he was gonna get along with this kid. He lets the silence stew for a moment while the new kid ponders his existence. The demon hunter taps Batman on the shoulder, giving him a questioning look,

"Safehouse."

Names were pretty motherfucking cool.

Group moving from B9 -> B10

[Dust]

Full Assault was in place just as they had done the first time. Shinmen Takezo was out in the open just begging for a fight to break out, Erika had argued about taking a place in the canopy, but she reluctantly took position with the gun at the ready, and Dust rummaging through the muck and mud trying to search out the prize they'd been seeking at the time. The half naked man was covered in sweat once more, and while he wasn't particularly bothered by his pores producing an alarming amount of moister he was a little concerned about his health. He continued, running his long fingers through the soft earth as he began to get desperate to find the item just as he did before. He was suddenly aware of a growling and purring, as well as the sound of something tumbling across the uneven surface; to him, it sounded like something hollow thumping across tree branch and root. His guess was it was a large box being dropped off, so he rushed towards the sound.

Dust's feet sank deep into the soft earth as he came to a rounded bowl in the forest, catching just the bare end of a panther leaving unsatisfied. And deep in the hole in the earth, he saw the same comically colored man as he saw leaving the safe house from before. A frown cut into his lips and he thought about challenging the previously wounded man. A one on one, he might take the happy-go-lucky clown. That is until he saw the other two push through the trees and confront the troll. As Lycan watched with observing eyes while the two men shook the battered man down for the item, he decided against an attack. He could have picked off the weakened prey by himself, but the other two would have caused him trouble and he was a bit far from Yuki and Takezo. He pulled back a bit further just to watch but out as much out of sight as he could. If they saw him, they didn't show it.

The trio stalked away without any confirmation, and Dust sulked back to his group. He had to face the two of them with disappointing news, and after their heart to heart about coming together again. Only to be greeted by Erika's position where Takezo had been, inspecting the points in the mud where he had been standing like the bad ass that he had been before something else caught her attention. Her head tilts back and she stares into the darkening sky where the coliseum was, where she had been yesterday. Her frown deepened on her face, and then she looked at him. If she was looking for good news, he didn't have it for her. SW-808 shook his sweat covered head as he looked down at his mud covered feet. "We need a new plan.." She responded, and then began to lead the way to the nearest safehouse.

"First you, then Takezo." Dust said, casually as they began. "I guess that means I'm up next.." Whenever that was. He wasn't afraid to fight, nor was he afraid to die. He had died once, and it wasn't that bad. A little cold. He tried not to think about it. "Maybe we can pick off someone on the way." He announced his wishes rather clearly and loudly. Anyone listening in on them might be put off a bit by how blunt he was being. But the honest truth was they needed points, they needed these quest items, or they needed to eliminate some of the competition themselves. Hopefully gaining one or the other in the process..

The assassin in front of him nodded in her silence, agreeing. They needed to keep moving, to keep playing the game they all signed up for, and more importantly, she needed to get paid. If she didn't start ending some of these people, she wasn't going to get paid. And when she didn't get paid, she wasn't happy, and an unhappy Erika was bad.

Dawnika Snow and Dust move from B9 to B10

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee plods along silently behind the two de facto leaders of this new group. It had been silent for sometime now, thanks in large part to that big burly bat dude. Every now and then, Dante would slap at a fly or mutter something under his breath Gamzee could never quite catch. Other than that, every time the alien teen tried to get his conv-o-sate on, Batman would just kinda...stare at him.

And that pretty much shut Gamzee up every time.

"Don't take it personal, kid. He's been like this since the moment I found him brooding on a rooftop somewhere," Dante says in a comforting tone.

 This in turn earns him a glare of his own from Batman.

"Ah I'm just kidding, Batguy. Gotta lighten up the mood for the newbie a little," he offers.

"It was your idea to bring him along. Not mine. I don't have to be happy about this."

"What, you, happy? I'm sure hell would freeze over first," He pauses, before adding, "and it won't. I've been there."

Gamzee chuckles. Dante smirks. It's silent again for along time. Nothing but the birds, the trees, and the everything else in the fucking jungle. Dante starts whistling, breaking the jungle cacophony. It's a random tune, one that doesn't have a lot of form or direction. The troll's eyes widen considerably, taking in this momentous occasion. He tries and fails to copy his new friend, only managing to sputter out air through pursed lips.

"Hoooow...do you do that...?" The troll questions with a reverence.

"What? Whistle? Shit, kid, ya can't tell me you don't know how to whistle. Watch, it's easy."

For the next fifteen minutes, the Son of Sparda tries in vain to teach an alien teenager how to whistle. By the end of his lesson, Gamzee finally manages to produce some fleeting sound from his lips. It is a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He and the demon slayer celebrate it as such.

Batman lets loose an exasperated sigh. They had to be vaguely close to the safe house by now. He hoped.

Moving our merry band B10 -> B12

[Dust]

The assassin and the werewolf move through the humid jungles, Dust admittedly slowing down as they did. It was getting to be mid morning, and he'd skipped breakfast too, on top of working his tail off. He could smell the layer of sweat on his dangerous princess, then again she was dressed head to toe in black so of course, it would accumulate. He found himself leaning on a moss covered limb that hung low enough for him to have to duck, watching her. He had been doing a lot of watching lately. Observing . Her in particular. Someone might think a guy like him was all ready to take advantage of the situation, half naked and with the perfect excuse to make out in the middle of a jungle. Maybe it was the lack of stimulation in all corners of his mind and body that made that kind of thought impossible for him, or maybe it was because guilt was a very real thing. Either way, he wasn't actually that kind of guy. He could be, proof of that was probably swarming the dataverse as they went on their merry way.

He sighed heavily, putting his whole weight on the tree and giving his legs a bit of a rest. He wasn't made for long term missions, he was starting to see that now. At least not one that sent him over three eco-systems in a matter of hours.. He hung there like he was dead, staring at the ground and wondering if those heavy gray clouds were going to even let out the rain that made them swell in size. He could hear the faint sound of water in the distance, and the idea of taking a swim made him remember what he had left for all this. It brought a smile to his face. Precious beach time for this. At least he knew what it was to fight again. And apparently his limits..

He finally picked himself back up off the tree, and making up the lost ground between him and Yuki. He was thinking about how to word the request to stop for food, when his stomach let out a howl on it's own. He stopped, closing his eyes tightly and cursing his belly. He's gone much longer than this without food, and about the same work. "I guess there's no point in being subtle.. Or starving myself. Can we fine whatever is making that flowing sound and grab some breakfast?" He asked, still following her.

Dawn and Dust move from B10 to B12, NOT engaging Gamzee and others.

[Todd Ingram]

The hike felt longer than it should. It was the first time he encountered this many primes since his arrival. And strangely enough all of them have some resemblance of people from his own dimension.

Tony, his remarks and attitude reminded Bruce of Oliver, otherwise known as the green arrow. They shared some of the better and some of the more annoying traits.

The other one, a psychotic alien like clown with a large mouth. Well, it didn't take long to link him someone from back home. Bruce didn't know this strange creature, he didn't seem dangerous, but then again, neither did those girls that attacked them earlier. He would have to stay vigilant, one can never fully trust a clown.

Finding their way through the jungle the trio finally noticed the safe house. Batman, who was walking up front sushed the duo behind him.

"Wha-? What's up" the clown casually asked.

"Shut up for a moment, we need to scout ahead." His rough voice normally had a certain effect on people, the clown however, was completely unaffected by it,
"Bat-bro relax, it's a safe house. It's suppose to be safe y'know."

"The house is safe, the outside isn't, let's scope it out." Batman used trees as cover, letting his eyes slowly observe the surroundings. The nearby tree line seemed safe but it was also a perfect place to hide and prepare an ambush. The suit didn't help in this heat, the tension combined with the warm temperatures started to make him sweat. Before he got a chance to fully observe the rest of the area, Gamzee casually strolled out.
"Wait!" Bruce whisper shouted towards the prime. But the clown didn't have any of it, he walked over to the logging camp and sat down, "see? We're all good."

Dante quickly followed and made his way into the camp. Bruce sighed 'it's going to be a long competition.'

Dante Gamzee and Batman move from B12 to safe zone.

[Malon]

“Malon!” a familiar voice called out to her.

“Ghh… I’m fine!” Thanks to you, Malon added in her mind. Tearen was dragging her away from Gildarts and she could feel the effects of the gravity spell fading over time. Why was he not following them… something around his leg? Tearen let her down and stood with his back to her, ready to take the mage on again.

“Stay behind me, they-“

“No, I won’t! They’ve figured things out!” Malon interrupted Tearen, caring little for the rudeness of it. “They’ll keep going for me to draw you out.”

“I can’t let them get-“ Tearen started, then paused as he realized what she was saying. “… then what do you propose?”

“Let’s make the first strike this time. I’m tough enough to take it if it fails – I grew up at a farm after all.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, shared her plan with Tearen then rushed forth before he could protest. Instead of rushing towards the approaching mage, however, she headed towards Illidan who’d been left unattended. As such Gildarts paid her no mind this time.


Illidan saw her coming from a figurative mile away and blocked her two sickles with one of his green demonblades. “You again? Do you seek death so much?” he asked mockingly while attacking her with the weapon in his other hand. His attack was, however, slower than before. The battle was taking its toll on everyone.

Malon dropped forward, having expected that attack, but was a moment too slow. Pain exploded along her back as the green blade cut diagonally across her right backside from her shoulder almost to her waist, meeting little resistance. But in the split second before the injury began to hurt she carried out her plan. Illidan took notice of one sickle realigning and slashing at his head, which he blocked by pulling his own blade up some. What he did not notice was the minuscule shred of cloth from his blindfold, torn off by the tip of Malon’s sickle and impaled on it. Malon then dropped flat on the ground belly-first and rolled to the side in anticipation of a follow-up blade attack. Instead she received a kick to the stomach – the demon hunter had known what to expect and reacted accordingly, his experience putting him one step ahead. The force of the kick emptied her lungs and had her roll several meters backwards before she caught herself and rose to her knees. Illidan followed after her.

“Don’t worry, we won’t kill you yet. You’ll be more useful as a hostage.”

“I… don’t think so.” Adrenaline was rushing through Malon’s veins. That back injury? Painful and probably bleeding but Illidan had luckily missed vital spots. She had what she needed… and Tearen needed her now. She plucked the shred of cloth from her sickle.
“What are you…” Illidan asked. Then Malon threw her hand forward, casting another “borrowed” technique. Illidan gasped as an immense gravitational pull dragged him to the ground. Malon wasted no time watching the spell’s effects though. The shred of cloth formed into a blindfold equal to Illidan’s own, save for a pair of eye-holes. As she donned it her form blurred once again and reformed into a lookalike of the demon hunter himself, complete with his twin blades.
Grasping Malon’s plan in a heartbeat Illidan tried to call out to Gildarts but the spell shoved him to the ground, muffling his words. The fake Illidan then put on her best “Illidan” face whilst trying to ignore the searing pain on her back. She began walking towards Gildarts from a different angle so he would not see the real Illidan behind her.


Tearen and Gildarts were locked into a struggle that was going more and more in the mage’s favour. As the former kept pulling boulders and chunks of earth from the ground with his Telekinesis to use as projectiles Gildarts was breaking them with simple punches, slowly advancing towards him. Malon interfered into that struggle by calling out: “Gildarts!”
The mage whipped his head around and saw his ally coming closer, bent over and coughing. “The whelp… is dead. Let me help you! We’ll finish him tog-“

Malon could not finish that sentence because Gildarts’s fist took a direct course for her face – the mage’s magic senses had not been fooled by her disguise for a second. She leant backwards and was promptly hit by his other fist, which sent her flying up. The badly-tied blindfold came up during that and Malon’s disguise was replaced by her true form. To make matters worse the white-masked bug made a comeback, capitalizing on Malon’s momentary weakness to attack her in midair. And Illidan? A momentary focus on his restraint allowed him to break the spell.

Posted from the right character this time <_<

After swapping the order yet again, Tearen and I agreed (With Alex’s blessing, ofc) that I'll be writing first and he will conclude the fight! Thanks everyone, this battle has been nothing but fun!

Combat Log:

-Atlas on Malon wore off as Tearen dragged her out of harm’s way.

[Scene Break]

-Malon attacks Illidan with Hylian Sickles. Illidan blocks with one of his Twin Blades of Azzinoth and attacks her with the other. Malon is slashed across the right side of her back - ouch!

-Malon attacks Illidan again, cutting off a bit of his blindfold. Illidan blocks most of the attack again.

-Illidan kicks Malon in the stomach (no move) and sends her rolling back.

-Malon casts Atlas (Mimicked from Gildarts) on Illidan and uses the cloth to create a Shapeshift form matching Illidan’s appearance.

-Malon then shapeshifts using the catalyst to look like Illidan and summons Twin Blades of Azzinoth (Mimicked from Illidan).

[Scene Break II]

-Tearen is using Telekinesis to throw stuff at Gildarts, who simply… well, punches stuff away (no move).

-Gildarts’s Enhanced Senses let him see past Malon’s disguise. He punches her twice (again, no move), sending her flying.

-Malon loses the blindfold and reverts to her real appearance (not to her “Snake” appearance)

-Little Ghost is leaping towards Malon to attack her in the air.

-Illidan breaks out of Atlas and is ready to go for the last leg of this battle!

-The Sage just lays there for the whole duration or something.

[Gamzee Makara]

"Where exactly are you going?" Batman growls, piercing eyes falling on Gamzee.

"Aw, I was just you know. Gon' enjoy some fresh jungley air. Is uh, that okay?"

Batman's gaze lingers on the clown for a second longer, before he nods. "Be back inside soon. We need to rest for the trek ahead."

Gamzee exits the safe house nonchalantly."Okay, Bat Dad," he snickers under his breath once outside.

He still trying to get the hang of this whistling thing. It was difficult, kinda frustratingly so - and Gamzee never got frustrated about anything! As he stepped outside, he was immediately feeling a little drained and depressed. The loggers really took a chunk out of this forest. It was as if someone just drove a knife into a tree trunk repeatedly, forever scarring the wood and leaving some of the bark blank and bleeding. Scattered equipment lay in heaps and piles, ranging from big pushy monstrous looking things to chainsaws, helmets, axes; anything that could be found on a person. It kinda made Gamzee wonder what had happened to all the inhabitants of this island before it was appropriated for Dante's Abyss.

He traverses the logging field with relative ease, using his staff as needed. He had to pole vault over a pile of stray logs once, but did so with elegance and grace. Elegance and grace befitting a cat with tape stuck to its foot, that is. He barrel rolls on landing, eventually coming to a groaning stop. He sits up, brushing off the wood shavings and dirt. The troll would very much like a shower, at this point in his life, more so than he ever has before. Twigs, grass, and the like clung to his mass of wild hair. It was gonna take forever to get that shit out, he just new it. I mean, it was all up and just doing its own thing up in his hair, but it was like, there you know?

SHB -> B15, splitting off from Dante and Batsy.

[Simon]

While Gamzee "Motherfucking" Makara went on a pleasant little stroll through the dilapidated sawmill (or whatever he was doing), the other two members of the shoddy alliance recovered a bit more. Batman pulled a First Aid kit off the wall, pulling out some bandages to address their wounds. The redcoat finally caved in and decided to wrap himself up a bit- and a good thing he did, because when he pulled off his damaged jacket to inspect the damage, he was slightly alarmed over the fact that the damage hadn't stitched itself up in the meanwhile.

With that revelation in mind, Dante quickly set about washing off and wrapping up the scrapes and stabs, unable to do much otherwise. He was in the process of wrapping gauze around his numb arm when the gruff voice of the vigilante spoke up, "I've never seen someone so apprehensive about dressing wounds."

Tony blinked and looked up, not even realizing how hard he must've been frowning. "No, it's not that," the devil hunter corrected, being serious for once, "It's just that these sort of cuts usually would've healed up now- or sealed, rather." Batman regarded this comment curiously as Dante went back to his amateur work. So he must've had a healing factor at some point. The element itself didn't seemed helpful at the moment, but it provided the detective with helpful insight as to who Tony Redgrave actually was.

"Why isn't it working, then?" The Batman asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer. He received a cold look an return, and didn't think to consider that the red-coat might've been offended by the question.

"If I had to guess," Dante started to reply, tightening the gauze wrappings, "It's probably these weird collars." The Son of Sparda carelessly wedged an index finger under the seal of said collar, scratching at the itches of his skin without heed for the warning beeps. He ignored the black cowl's look of concern as he removed his finger and elaborated, "I tried summoning stuff yesterday and I felt... blocked. Couldn't do anything. Probably the rules of this this game."

Batman sighed, closing the kit and replacing it on the wall. "No medical drugs, no surgeon's tools, no natural healing ability... Does Syntech expect us to get by in these conditions?"

"No, Mister Bond, they expect us to die," the silver-haired warrior replied, rolling out the latent kinks in his arms. The vigilante gave Dante a dirty look for that, but eventually conceded the apparent truth in that statement.

Pulling on the blood-colored longcoat, Dante looked to his awkward teammate. "Let's get going."

"The alien hasn't come back yet," Batman objected, holding his honor above his all-too-apparent dislike for the perpetually intoxicated troll.

"He can't have gone far with that leg of his," the devil hunter explained, straightening up. "I'm sure we'll run into him."

Dante and Batman from Safehouse B to B15. Teaming back up with Gamzee.

[Karl Jak]

End Day 2 -- Afternoon

Start Day 2 -- Evening (6pm to midnight)

This phase will last until June 22nd at 430 PM CDT

[Tearen Wover]

The profundity of Sage’s gift to Tearen was not lost on the eldritch warrior. Moments prior to the old man’s intervention, Tearen had been prepared to expand his gravitational radius and annihilate every single one of these bloodthirsty savages inside the oblivion of his personal event horizon. The scholar’s actions provided a stark reminder that Tearen himself was not above giving into the heady rush of violence. Interlopers and ambushers, perhaps, but the Sage and his little companion did not deserve the agony that a black hole would provide. Neither did Gildarts, really. The man was half-catatonic, with a head roiling with inner turmoil and self-doubt. All the same, the wizard's merciless beating of Malon dismissed all mercy from Tearen's mind. The Shadow watched in silence as the girl's body plopped into the loamy muck underfoot, blood staining her entire torso.

Mud and ash already coated almost everything in the clearing. The once vibrant colors of the rainforest had seemingly adopted a somber cast, as if trying to empathize with the symphony of suffering that had been so enthusiastically composed in their presence. Enough was enough. Gildarts kept one rage-shot eye on Tearen as he fended off an adroit strike from the insect. Time began to ease back into its normal flow, relative to the ex-enigma’s perception, which brought a sense of immediacy to the sordid conflict. As much as the Shadow would have loved to invest more energy on this farce, strategic thinking forbade it. Tearen was nearly numb with anger, but a mortal mind could not comprehend it.

“Still letting the Voice sway your judgement, Clive?” Tearen whispered, drawing his halberd back into existence from a fold of shimmering light. The Fairy Tale wizard rose to his feet, mud-spattered and bruised. The furious aura that had been wreathing his body had faded, along with Gildarts’ apparent patience for banter.

“Stop talking about it like it’s real!” Gildarts hissed, dashing forwards and throwing a flurry of clumsy blows at the Shadow. Each one was like getting hit by a truck, but the wizard was growing drunk with fatigue, and Tearen parried them with dextrous swipes from Enigma. An unseen elbow still sent the elder Prime reeling backwards. After catching his hitched breath, Tearen sighed.

“You realize I’m holding back, yes? There are people watching this I’d rather not terrify. Frankly, I’m concerned I may have done so already.” the Shadow said, taking a few steps towards Malon. She was fading, but a small smile parted her lips.

"He's stalling." Illidan quipped, taking a slow step forwards and then launching himself at the elder Prime. By the time his twin blades would have connected with Tearen, however, the ex-enigma was already an inky cloud of vapor, hissing into Malon's body. Leaves and vines twisted and whirled as an explosion of power rocked the clearing, causing the ambient green light to flicker and die. There stood a new figure, now, twin sickles in hand and great black wings blossoming from her back. Swirling robes only partially obscured Malon's face, whose complexion had turned midnight. The hybrid leveled a sickle at both Gildarts and Illidan.

"I wonder who is watching you." Malaphh crooned, her voice undulating with barely-restrained power. Illidan and Gildarts glanced at one another momentarily before surging towards the fused Prime. By the time they both reached her position, however, Malaphh was gone in a blur of darkness. It was everything the two legendary Primes could do to prevent being ripped to shreds by the marauding blades of harvest. Malaphh alternated between the night elf and the wizard with intuitive grace, each blow enough to cause the ground to shake. Illidan leaped into the air and flung a bolt of emerald thunder at the abomination, but the attack bounced off a knot in spacetime that had been absent milliseconds prior. Malaphh returned the favor by firing a line of destructive power into the demon hunter's torso.

Gildarts opted for a different strategy, using his own lightning reflexes to grab an incoming steel talon and fling it clear from the hybrid's grasp. In the instant that he did so, however, he found an obsidian hand clasped around his throat, squeezing. Malaphh growled softly as she lifted the struggling wizard into the air. Oh how she could murder this demented hulk with a twitch of her thumb...

...No. The eldritch farmer girl choke slammed him into the muck where he belonged. She would not let this power own her, as these other Primes allowed. With a breath, she allowed the fusion to end, and the two Primes split.

A moment later, Tearen realized that there was a Nail buried in his back.

"GOTCHA!" the Little Ghost wrote.

800ish words.

Bunch of stuff happened. Most importantly Tearen Fused with Malon in Harmony form and activated his T1 power- up for this turn. Resulting Stats are:

ATK: 7
DEF: 5
SPD: 10
TEC: 5

All of this is using Malon's SP, cleared it with her so she's now 0/3.

If I need to do a play by play I can but I'm exhausted and I just want this up.

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face

Tearen & Malon vs Gildarts & Illidan vs Humble Sage & Little Ghost

With time such a wonky thing in the Omniverse, the sextet had been slugging it out for nearly twenty-four hours.  Twenty-four plus hours of blood and savagery was winding down to its conclusion.  Karl (and the rest of his production crew) held out hope that the six contestants hadn’t expended too much in what was essentially an opening salvo in a long war of attrition.

In one last gambit, the flittering bug had capitalized on the cessation of the fusion.  Tearen grimaced as he held out his palms and cleared his thoughts.  Enigma returned to the grip of the eldritch warrior, who quickly spun around and bashed Little Ghost with the broad side of the axe head.  Before he could step forward to follow up on the dazed creature, the old man caught Tearen on the side of his head.  The eldritch warrior stumbled and had to deal with Illidan barreling down on him.

In that moment, the Sage took hold of the injured, nail-wielding warrior and departed the battlefield.

With this twin blades and the opening created by Sage’s blindsiding blow, Illidan put his adversary on the ropes.  Tearen, once clear of mind, created his own opening by parrying aside an erratic strike and slammed the spike pommel of his polearm into the demon hunter’s gut.  A beat later, the shaft of the weapon crashed against the green-eyed warrior’s visage.  

As he weighed his options, the eldritch entity saw the Malon stood near the edge of the rainforest with the same device that had dropped from the sky.

Gildarts was recovering quickly—the mage seemed to never tire.  In moments, the demon hunter would be on his feet again.

The farmhand’s eyes were weary.  She had the prize in her hands and the path was open to them.

“To be resolved.”

[spoiler]
Tearen and Malon get the item drop.  Please PM me who will keep it and I’ll get you a description.

Tearen takes 6 points of Accumulated Damage
Malon takes 10 points of Accumulated Damage

Gildarts takes 7 points of Accumulated Damage
Illidan takes 8 points of Accumulated Damage

Humble Sage takes 9 7 points of Accumulated Damage (used regen mid-combat)
Little Ghost takes 14 points of Accumulated Damage (includes Major Injury – Fractured skull + concussion; To be honest, LG might not even have a brain, in which case, this is just a horrifying injury to his head region)

Everyone here is on 24 OOC cooldown, unless they opt to waive it to challenge someone or to contest and item drop.
[/spoiler]

[Tearen Wover]

Tearen and Malon shuffled through the underbrush at a comparatively breakneck pace, trying to leave behind the charred remains of B7 behind as quickly as possible. Malon clutched the Syntech package in both arms, like a suckling babe, despite repeated attempts on Tearen's part to encourage the use of her knapsack. He could feel swirls of anxiety and panic at the fringes of her mind, but Malon was objective oriented to a fault. Right now their objective was to reach the safehouse before their collars finished what Illidan and Gildarts had started.

He'd extended an invitation for the Sage and the little bug to rest with them at the Safehouse, but the pair had vanished into the bush as quickly as they had come. The Shadow dearly hoped that they would; it would help attract more visitors to the telling of his Underverse story. On that note, Malon piped up for the first time since their withdrawal.

"Tearen...what...was that?" the farmhand murmured. Tearen didn't say anything at first, and right at that moment, the Primes emerged once again into the vast swath of felled lumber. The elder Prime beckoned Malon closer, and allowed a small bolus of soothing light to swirl out of his palm. Under normal circumstances, Malon would have been mortified to have a man lift her shirt without asking, but it wasn't very far and he was focused on her back. As the ex-enigma let the healing energies seep into the deep flesh-wound, he considered the girl's question.

"I guess that depends on what you experienced." Tearen said softly as the swollen and bruised gash began to heal. Malon half-sat on a damp stump whose inner wood still held a rosey color.

"...it was like...my whole head opened up, and let the world funnel in. It was like having a map of everything, but with no legend or labels..." Malon mused. Satisfied that the bleeding had been stemmed, Tearen gave her space to fix her outfit.

"Yes, well. I suppose that when two Primes fuse, their minds share certain aspects."

Malon nodded slowly before standing back up and adjusting her backpack. If that had only been an aspect of Tearen's mind...


...what must it be like to live with the full assembly?

Tearen and Malon move to B15
No Challenges
Tearen used 1 MediGel on Malon

[Harlan Higgs]

The windy grasslands and farms had turned into thick, dense forest. Heavy green branches full of slender, bunched up leaves dripped with the dew of a previous monsoon. Karl Jak obviously had a fortune on weather control technology. Enel had taken to launching himself into the air and landing on impossibly whippy branches, then waiting for his erstwhile ally to catch up. The man never passed up and opportunity to subtly flex his "godly" might over those he deemed his lessers. Still, the way he'd executed Odin....nasty work. 

Hendy had known a guy with a similar cruel streak. One of the last Princes of Baltimore, before the Pillar of Seven sent the Justicars to run the city. Brujah named Pyotr. Big russian bastard, fat as shit and twice as strong. He had a fondness for literally squeezing the life out of dissidents before ripping off his head. But he'd been taken care of. To the day of Harlan's execution, no one knew who had offed him. They found his fat fucking corpse ripped to shreds and lain out for the sun to turn to ash.

Hendy's sources had told him it was a Giovanni hitman, so the logical conclusion was someone within the Camarilla's court had paid off the spaghetti eaters to knock off the Prince. Giovanni were necromancers, which meant those nasty wounds had been caused by Wraiths. Hendy shuddered. Even the memory was enough to chill his dead, sallow skin.

"Coming, Vic? We do have places to be...especially before nightfall!" Enel pointed at his collar, while Vic looked at his, fastened around his ankle. He'd barely noticed it, it was so comfortable...but the thing carried enough explosive to reduce him and any other contestant wearing one to so much fine dust. "Yeah....we'd better shake a leg, I don't wanna have come this far just to get 86'd by a damn bracelet."

Enel and Hendy moved from A1 to B1

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage raced through the underbrush, the unconscious insect under one arm. It seemed that he was not actually being followed, likely the other four had been delayed fighting over the item. It pained the Sage somewhat that he had been forced to withdraw without gaining the artifact, but he doubted that the insect would be able to make it very far without help. The Sage chuckled to himself, though the laughter turned into a rasping cough and he had to lean up against a tree for support.

Even when you have signed up for a duel to the death, you would rather learn more about this intriguing little critter than eliminate a potential rival in the conflict. He was hopeless. The Sage’s breath was returning slower than he felt was likely a good sign. He moved into the shelter of a series of rock outcroppings and set the small insect on the ground. He needed to take stock of the situation. Tearen had given him a mental message to follow him to the Safehouse. He now had to decide whether he trusted Wover yet. He knew that the enigma was taciturn, and there was an extreme possibility that he would simply be walking into another conflict immediately.

He looked down at the comatose insect on the ground next to him. The Safehouse would have the best medical supplies available on the island. If he could convince Tearen not to barbecue the little creature out of spite, then perhaps he could get some of his questions answered. The Sage grunted, wincing slightly as he got back on his feet. With no weapon, he was horribly exposed, but his situation would not improve without effort. It would certainly be easier once the bug was able to walk on his own two feet.

Sage and Little Ghost move from B7 to B15. making full use of that cooldown to avoid badness.

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage waited on the edge of the jungle, surveying the surroundings. Karl Jak was something of a prick, the Sage decided. He could only come to the conclusion that this placement was entirely on purpose. By putting the Safehouse amidst the most open part of the zone, it made the approach a very tenuous and vulnerable one. It was a means of drawing out the weakened. Bringing the lambs to the slaughter.

But it would be a chance that he had to make. The collar at the base of his neck was beginning to make an uncomfortably persistent beeping noise, and the little ghost’s collar was mimicking the awful insistence. It was truly surprising that the collars had depleted so heavily. How long had they been fighting in the forest? The time dilation effects of the Omniverse seemed to have dragged the battle well into the next day. A sudden rumbling emerged from the unconscious insect and an impressively accurate picture of a cooked jungle beast appeared in fuzzy smoke above its form.

“An accurate assessment, my little friend.” the Sage nodded, adjusting his hold on the inert insectoid, “We have one more sprint to run, then we can rest, recuperate... It is not safe here.” The Sage lifted the small bug onto his back and set off at a low crouch. Switching his method of transportation proved to help significantly at keeping his figure low without further imperiling the fragile bug-thing. He moved along the border between jungle and industry, tracing the path until he reached the point he had first entered the jungle. He spent a moment steadying his breath, and adjusted the position of Little ghost slightly. The Sage set off across the barren stretch to the logging camp, backtracking the route he took the first time.

Sage and LG moving B15 -> SHB

[Illidan Stormrage]

The woman and her green-eyed friend ran.
 
"Get back here!" Illidan roared, sprinting after them. "This fight isn't over until you taste my blades for the last time!"
 
"Illidan!"
 
The night elf stopped at his name and turned. The red haired human limped after him. "Let them go."
 
Stormrage shot a glance back as his enemies disappeared behind the flickering curtains of felfire.
 
"They're gone!" he yelled. "They're gone because of you!"
 
"We need to rest," Gildarts said. "That was a tough fight."
 
Illidan's immolating eyeballs flared for a moment, before his grimace was sheathed behind taut lips. Reason filtered through and his battle rage subsided. The demons squealed for carnage, but their unholy voices shrank before Illidan's composure. As sanity took its rightful place, Stormrage remembered the other combatants in the intense conflict. The bug creature, and the cane wielding human, had skulked off without him noticing.
 
"You don't have to like it," Gildarts said. "But you know I'm right."
 
Damn human. The demon hunter snapped his fingers and a new blindfold materialised from the air and wrapped around his head, shielding his eyes. Now that he stopped, his injuries made themselves known. Dried blood speckled his tattooed skin, residue from dozens of tiny cuts and sores, though no wounds were dangerously deep. A burning heat radiated from his abdomen, and his hands shot to it instinctively. The pressure from his fingers intensified the pain, and he withdrew them with a sharp hiss.
 
"That blasted ... green eyed creature did this," Illidan grunted. His fingers came away drenched in dark violet blood.
 
"I knew him as Nealapph once," Gildarts said, nursing a number of wounds himself. "It seems he's not quite the same monster ... or man."
 
"Whatever his ridiculous name is ... he has to pay for this."
 
The crackling of fire broke through the night elf's thoughts, and he paid heed to it. All around, his stray felfire bolt chewed and consumed the grassy surroundings, evolving into a monstrous emerald bushfire. Blistering heat licked at his skin.
 
"First, let's get the hell out of here," Gildarts said, leading the way."Then let's see to our wounds."
 
Illidan grunted, glancing one last time at the wall of flames where the two primes had vanished, then spun and chased after his only ally on the island.

Illidan and Gildarts moving B7 -> B15
NOT challenging Tearen and Malon. (Can't anyway, but let's make that very clear)

[Harlan Higgs]

They headed deeper into the jungle, the God and the Vampire. Now the trees were thick around them, the air was muggy and damp, and Hendy was continually having to slap flies away from the gaping wounds on his chest. Probably trying to lay eggs in him, the little fuckers. He hated the jungle. Absolutely hated it.

The Ravnos was a creature of cities and steel, not trees and swamps. The closest he'd ever been to this kind of environment were those carnival sideshows in his youth, detailing the horrors of "Darkest Congo". Bit racist, but those were the times for you. He half expected a tribe of cannibals to burst from the underbrush clicking their tongues and skewer him for their dinner.

At least he had Enel with him. Trying to keep an eye on the God was taking up most of his focus, the ostentatiously clad man likely just as annoyed at the thick, muggy environs. Godddamnit, it was hot. Hendy pulled at the damp cloth of his jumpsuit and grimaced. This charade was getting tiresome, and he wasn't sure how much longer they could keep it up.

Not to mention, they'd had barely any opposition. They'd strong-armed the bug man for his scag, and then beaten on a barely alive Norse god. How would they fare against a fully fresh opponent? The Ravnos put his hand in his pocket around the charm again, the necklace thrumming with the energies of the Beast. That was how.  He also had another trick or two up his sleeves, and he was sure his godly patron had some as well.

"My lord?" He called up into the treescape. "How much farther, do you think?" The reply came from somewhere behind him, and the handyman turned around to see Enel leaning against a tree trunk, picking his teeth with a thorn. "Not much further, Hendy. Are you so tired already?"

Vic grimaced. "Nah. Just sick of this fuckin' heat."

Enel and Hendy moving from B1 to B9

[Tearen Wover]

As Tearen and Malon picked their way across the dense detritus of the logging area, the ex-enigma glanced down at the tablet which floated alongside him. Based on the pinging signatures of the other contestants, there seemed to be a large number of Primes converging on the safehouse ahead...including Gildarts and Illidan. It wasn't surprising, really; the fight had gone on far longer than anyone had anticipated, and all of them were at risk for explosive disqualification. The Shadow glanced at the surrounding landscape, feeling pinpricks on the back of his neck. It was hard to tell if the phantoms and jitters at the edges of his vision was the rustling of leaves, enemy movement, or just plain figments of fatigue.

Either way, it seemed as though they were going to have quite an audience for when Tearen divulged his story of the Underverse. If anything, it would help ensure that as many Syntech cameras were on site as possible. In fact, one had been following them for about an hour now, keeping a respectful but interested distance at their ten o'clock position.

"Looks like we're officially Prime-time, Malon." Tearen murmured, stepping over a thick stump. Malon just nodded and kept her head down. The girl had been oddly quiet since they had briefly stopped to patch themselves up. The elder Prime hoped that her brush with death hadn't rattled her too much; she was fresh, and dying was simply a rite of passage for any Prime who sought to make a difference in either themselves or the Omniverse. But, again, now was not the time to wax philosophical. Perhaps he was just projecting an undue perception of weakness on her for not being able to withstand the might of such a ferocious battle.

Tearen mentally chastised himself and pulled his tablet closer to perform some clerical duties. There would be ample opportunity to inquire on Malon's morale when they had reached safety...

Tearen and Malon moved from B15 to SHB

[Enel]

Killing that old man – I refuse to call him a God, at this point – allayed some small part of my anger. But I’ve been awake for nearly two days and I think I’m starting to see things.

For one, in that fight, I swear I saw Hendy get speared through the gut. I wasn’t paying total attention, I admit – between sleep deprivation and … well, checking up on the Dataverse, to make sure we have all the latest up-to-date information … I dunno what I saw.

But I need to get some sleep, yo.

I sit and wait on the ground, a nice soft layer of wood and dirt, and lay down to let Hendy catch up. God it’s nice and warm … and wet, like … like a womb. I let my mind drift off to better things. The supplicatory laughter of my female servants. The helpless look in Odin’s eyes as I sent a million volts down my staff and into his tender trachea.

Something brushes my arm. Something cold and alien.

I look up and there’s something there. A shadowy figure, and I can’t see its face. I balk, pulling my arm away, and jump backwards, smacking into a tree.

“You alright boss?” asks Hendy. “We need to keep moving.”

I don’t say anything. My throat is caught in my mouth. So instead I just glare, nod and set ahead.

Fuck, man. I’m losing it.

Or maybe I’m not.

I pull out my Dataverse device, whisper into it: “search for Victor Hendy”.

I secretly trawl through the results, but … there’s almost nothing to see. He’s a Prime (obviously – he wouldn’t be here otherwise). He registered in the city of Coruscant, then …. nothing. I’m guessing he’s either truly a blue-collar worker, or what he does doesn’t get reported on news websites.

Am I being paranoid?

No. I shake my head. I don’t get paranoid. I get hunches.

Enel and Hendy moving from B9 to B10.

[Malon]

“Tearen, wait a moment. Before we go in there I have a question.” She stopped and Tearen instinctively followed suit, turning to look at her. They stood at the edge of the logging camp, within what would be considered a safe area, but away from the other Primes. „If… we were fused, does that mean that you…“

“That I saw into your mind? Some of it, yes.” He paused for a moment, then added: “Our brief state of fusion limited that to your most recent memories though, of the battle. I didn’t see anything that I shouldn’t have.”

“Did you see anyone that shouldn’t have been there – I mean, during our fight?”

Tearen blinked. It took him a moment to answer. “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

“Call me insane if you like, but I see illusions of my ancestors. Their memories bleed into my mind through… a sort of magic. My mind deals with it by creating mental images of the people that they belonged to, and one of them was present during the fight, giving me tips. I thought that maybe…”

“I see no reason to call you insane for that. The Omniverse has numerous mysteries that we haven’t even begun to solve yet.”

“Alright. Just in case that some of that bled into you then… it’s not you going crazy if you see someone who looks similar to me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Can you hold on to that packet for now, also? And try keeping it out of sight. It’s going to be drawing a lot of unwanted attention.”

“You know that I don’t aim to win this… contest. I could just drop it and run for it.”

“Some Primes are in it for the bloodshed, they’ll take any excuse to attack others… say, do you still have that blindfold? The one you used to turn into Illidan?”

Malon produced the piece of cloth from her pocket.

“You should wear it. We may as well mislead some of our to-be hunters.”

While Malon fixed the blindfold around her head and turned into the purple-skinned demon hunter again, she said: “Another thing… thank you.” Those last two words came with the deep, raspy voice of Illidan Stormrage. Not something she would ever get used to.

“Don’t thank me yet. Dante’s Abyss isn’t over… we’re safe for now though.” After a brief moment he added: “You fought very well too.”

“That doesn’t really matter if we both die”, Malon noted.

“Ah, about that… there’s something you should know about Primes and death here in the Omniverse.”

Confirming Tearen: Malon's moved with him from B15 to SHB.