Zone C -- Megacity One

[Simon]

True to Dante's word, the troll had indeed not made it very far. Bounding over a stack of logs barring the immediate way, the redcoat caught sight of the little gray man sitting on a stump. A cursory glance revealed he was trying to use the rain to wash all the bits of leaf and twig from his wild black hair, to largely no avail. Gamzee perked up as his company approached, whirling his head around to meet them and reaching clumsily for his walking stick.

"Hey, yo, fancy meeting you guys out here," the alien clown waved his allies down like long-lost friends. "I was just about to make my way back over there, y'know? Told ya I wouldn't be out long, just wanted to look around a little."

Batman looked to the west, spying the sun beginning to sink past the threshold of the horizon. However long the troll thought he had been out, Omniphysics seemed to amplify that dramatically. "We're moving now," he justified, "Before it gets dark."

"I thought dark was your element, Bats," Dante cut in, with the vigilante leering at the familiar nickname. "You know, what with that black cape of yours?"

Gamzee's eyes widened, looking as if he had just made the discovery of the century. "Ohhhh, shit," the clown cussed, pointing a finger at Batman, "That's why you got the whole bat theme going on. That's freakin' genius, dude."

The black-cowl hero was rarely ever particularly amused in the first place, but right now he looked very particularly the opposite of amused. "Let's just go. The city is up ahead," Batman explained, stepping forward to resume the march. He didn't even check to ensure the others were following- he would just know it, what with their inane banter.

"Good thing, right? If you're a super-hero and all, then the city's your element, too," the devil hunter quipped predictably.

"Dude-" the troll replied, in even more shock, "You're blowing my mind into pieces here. Motherfucking double whammy-"

Batman breathed harder, clenching his fists. These two were the closest thing he had to allies right now, and he despised every walking moment of it.

Dante, Batman, Gamzee to C6 from B15.

[Handsome Jack]

Oh my GOOOOOD! They do NOT shut-up! And every time they ask me something, it's give em a product placement or take a few hundred volts to the carapace. At this point, I'm just on autopilot, giving them grunts, agreements, and the like without even listening to what Blue Tits and Frat Boy are saying.

Kinda irritated that we're leaving the city to go swimming again. I hope to God that my stolen phone is waterproof. That reminds me, though. The thing has been beeping at me for awhile, so I pull it out and figure out what's going on. Huh. Looks like some folks have tagged me on OmniTwitter. Let's check it out. Oh. Nice. With a wry chuckle, I start Tweeting.

A few minutes of amusement later and it's back to hanging out with the Colosseum Crew. You know, Archer I can deal with. He's a worthless human and all, but he GETS it. He knows the value of a good one-liner and sex-pun. Graowr on the other hand is... well, she's a fucking kid. A kid who needs a double dose of Ritalin. But, I can't deny she's a tough bitch. I'ma put up with her, for now. If only because she's so gung-ho, she'll give me time to escape if we run across anyone too tough to handle.

Goddamn this thing is itchy... I dig into the empty socket where my eye used to be with a finger. I tried to heal it up earlier with some of Papa Piccolo's good stuff, but it didn't do anything but dull the pain and make it itchy as fuck.

“Stop picking at it, dude. It's gross as hell,” Archer complains beside me.

“I can't help it! It'ss ssoooooooo fu...dging itchy! Bessidess, I wouldn't even be HAVING thiss problem if you'd just kept it in your pantss.”

Leisure Suit starts snickering immediately, and I feel gratified that he joke the double entendre, joining him with my own laugh. Blueberry just kinda stares blankly at us.

“What are you guys laughing about? What's so funny about his shotgun? It's just a stubby, hard steel weapon that he keeps tucked into his waistband!”

Ok. Now THAT'S funny. The two of us can barely continue standing as we double-over in laughter.

Moving from C9 to C10

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull popped the clutch and sped down the wide road leading into the heart of Mega City One. The rusty hot-wired Buick sputtered and rattled its way along as the officer floored the gas pedal in a rapid dash to the safe house.
 
“Yeaharharhar!” the burly cop chuckled with glee. “This ol’ car ain't half bad!”
 
Ancient abandoned storefronts flew by in a blur as the hulking black car's wheels spun on and on. The streets were devoid of life and other vehicles, even though the sidewalk lamps and traffic lights still inexplicably worked. Mad Bull thought nothing of the intersection he zipped through as he hurtled towards his destination.
 
“PING! VIOLATION DETECTED!” a robotic voice chimed out.
 
As the speeding Sergeant passed through, a little red flag automatically extended from the traffic signaller and a high pitch beep rang out behind. Mad Bull scoffed. “They gonna write a cop a ticket? Pft. Gemme break!” he laughed, continuing to speed along.
 
The ramshackle car rolled along for another two blocks before Mad Bull blew threw yet another empty intersection at break-neck speeds.
 
“PING! VIOLATION DETECTED!” a robotic voice chimed out.
 
Enjoying the thrill of the ride, Sergeant John Estes poked his head out the driver's side window and hurled an insult at the traffic signaller.
 
“Detect my fat chode, ya stupid Droid….whaaaaaagha!” Mad Bull exclaimed with a shock. His mustache twitched in unnerved panic and his eyes grew wide as saucers. Metallic legs and arms were telescoping from the traffic light, stretching the full 14 feet from where the light dangled to the street below. The ends of each arm brandished a pincer like claw and it's traffic signal morphed into a metal core with a gleaming red and yellow eye. It's limbs held the core aloft like some kind of futuristic death spider.
 
“INITIATING ARREST PROTOCOL!” the traffic light screeched in an ear piercing tone as it's spindly legs gave chase to the speeding Buick.
 

Mad Bull moving from C16 to C21

[Gamzee Makara]

The familiarity of the city greeted the clown once more, tall offices and other such buildings looming over the trio. Dirt and grass give way to pavement and concrete as they exit one jungle and enter another.

"Ahhhh. Home again, home again," Makara says in an exhale. This earns a querying glance from Dante, to which the clown explains, "oh uh, this is where I all up and spawned. Except waaaayyyy over there, by them bitchin' docks."

Bitchin' docks. Huh. Cool. The three entrants continue their march through the abandoned city, the setting sun creating an eerie shadow filled backdrop on the monstrous buildings that surrounded them. It almost looked like the ball of fire on the horizon was engulfing the entire zone in flames, shades of orange and pink and red alighting every piece of broken glass or metallic surface. Silhouetted buildings rose off in the distance, looking for all the world like tombstones.

They might as well have been.

Gamzee's leg wasn't gonna get better any time soon. He had stopped feeling the pain, despite the medigel's relief running out long ago. His leg just felt like weight, weight he no longer had control of. Muscles were weird, bro. All doin' what they do and such. Gamzee finds a stray shopping cart and hops in it, using his cane as a sort of propellant. He scoots around alongside Dante and the Batman, pretending he was the captain of a ship.

Dante shook his head, the smallest of small smiles present on his lips. What a fucking weirdo, dude. Batman glances back at his clown companion and resists the urge to loose his brooding coolness factor. The caped crusader didn't know all clowns were certifiably insane - he thought it was just the one.

The group are ever closer to their destination. There's no telling what may happen next.

Batman, Dante, Gamzee = C6 -> C17. Sorry for that last line cop out, ran out of shit to ramble about.

[Sterling Archer]

“Ugh,” I groaned, “how far are we supposed to go to get to the drop, anyway?”

“This far!” Graw answered excitedly, tracing a line from our location to our goal with her finger. I fixed her with a blank look, but it was hard to stay mad at someone so proud of themselves.

“It’ss at the other end of the island, sso I’m gonna go with REALLY fu-AHH-cking far,” Cell answered, shaking off the dizziness that came with an electric shock. “Too bad none of uss can fly.”

“Those wings of yours don’t unfurl into majestic slash terrifying ladybug wings?” I chuckled, glancing around the vacant street. “Leave it to Archer, folks. I definitely don’t plan to hoof it across this whole godforsaken island.”

Another half-a-block stroll and I found our solution, a modern-looking black jeep with the top removed, parked outside a convenience store. Not my first choice of vehicle, but given that time was of the essence and I couldn’t spot any Porsches for the next few blocks, function over form. I sighed as I remembered Genie, parked uselessly in the Nexus. I’ll come back for you, baby.

“You would choosse the only toplesss car,” Cell said, eliciting a snicker. “Oh, the keyss are in the ignition, lucky uss,” the insectoid reached in and tugged them from the ignition.

“I’m starting to think everything on this island is just planted conveniently so that the viewers get a good show,” I observed. Watching a couple of randoms try to hotwire a vehicle would get old after the first few minutes.

“Can I drive?!” Graw spoke up, bounding energetically to the driver’s side.

“Noooooo,” I said, snatching the keys from Cell and hopping through the window. “I’m driving.”

“But you said I gave you a really bad headache,” Graw pouted, before quickly shrugging and hopping into the back seat with gusto a moment later. Can’t keep a good abomination down, apparently.

“According to Bugsy it’s just a ‘widdle headache’, so I’ll be fine. Besides, he’s missing an eye and you’re...well, you.”

“Really eloquent, Agent Jackasss.”

A pause.

“No shock?” I inquired, waiting for the usual zap.

“What? It’ss an animal.”

Colosseum Bros moving from C10 → C11

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull spun the wheel of the Buick and the rusty old car teetered on two rubber tires as he swung the vehicle around a corner.

CRASH!!!

Bricks and masonry catapulted through the air as one of the traffic droid’s telescoping arms lashed out but missed the speeding car. The spider-like monstrosity clanked it's metallic legs at a frightening pace and left nasty divots in the pavement of the street. The quick evasion had bought Sergeant John Estes some precious time, but the seasoned law officer knew the robot would be near enough to tear the vehicle… and him… apart in seconds.

Holding one hand to the wheel, MAD BULL 34 unholstered his Smith & Wesson revolver and poked his head out the window again.

FOOOOOOOSH!

A telescoping arm soared across the distance between the traffic droid and the Buick, just narrowly missing the lawman's head. The sudden gust of wind blew off Mad Bull's police cap and he swore wildly. Steadying the wheel with one hand, he stuck his other arm out the window and took aim.

KAPOW!

ting!

A .38 special round echoed through the canyons of cityscape, but the killer meter maid had shown no sign of slowing.

“Goddamn rotten machines taking the jobs of good cops,” he muttered. “Eat lead, metal-head!!”

KAPOW!

KAPOW!

KAPOW!

Another three shots rang out in quick succession, but the device barely budged.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Mad Bull exclaimed, retreating back into the cab of the speeding car. The dial on the fuel gauge was well past the red line marked with an E. The engine was beginning to cough out it's last fumey gasps, but the officer could see the tall skyscraper at the center of the city not far distant. The safe house was near, but how that monster would pick him apart before he could even make it to the swinging doors of the building.

Mad Bull rolled the wheel, skidding the Buick to a halt. Just outside the safehouse entrance. With the driver's side window now facing the traffic droid, the Sergeant rummaged into his supply bag and took out his Remington 870 police-issue shotgun. His meaty foot kicked open the car door as he chambered the first shell into the barrel.

click-CLACK!

The officer leveled the barrel at the traffic droid and let loose a salvo of destruction.

WAAKOWW!!!

click-CLACK!

WAAKOWW!!!

After the dust settled, the only thing left of the droid was a pile of scrap and a tuft of unissued tickets. With bold assurance, Mad Bull strode into the safe house

Mad Bull moving from C21 to C Safehouse

[The Future Warrior]

"So it's...pretty awful down there, then?" Archer ventured after a few minutes of driving down the road in what passed for silence. "Both of you have been down there so you'd know if anyone would."

"It ssuckss!" Cell spat right away. "Just water and mud and trees!"

"It's pretty awful, yeah," Graowr reluctantly agreed, turning back from just sort of watching the buildings go by in a blur. "The water can get pretty deep."

"How deep we talkin' here? Like..." Archer held up a hand at about waist height. "...oooor?"

The little blue not-alien held up a hand, more or less at eye level. "It comes up to about here!" she offered. "Sometimes it's even over my head! There's like...holes and stuff. I kept falling in, and the waves are over my head just about all the time."

"Oh, great. Fantastic. So we're going swimming when we get there." Archer rolled his eyes with a grimace.

"Don't ssuppose thiss thing could jusst...drive through water that deep?" Cell ventured, looking out over the side and down at the road.

"Maybe for a little while?" The agent just shrugged. "Be nice if it were amphibious or something. Solve all our problems, but what are the chances of that?"

The little blue gummy gal leaned forward from the backseat. "What's 'amphibious' mean?"

"It meanss ssomething sstuid," Cell grumbled, turning pointedly away. One of his fingers prodded at the edge of his blown out eye gingerly, muttering darkly under his breath.

Graowr just tilted her head slightly in confusion. "Something stupid?"

"Oh my GOD!" Archer jerked his head forward, forehead smacking against the steering wheel with a solid thunk. "It means something suited for land and water equally well."

"Oh. That would be nice," the azure demon agreed, before flopping back into the backseat. She dug around in her chest again, pulling her tablet out to check the map again. "Well...we're still headed the right way, Shouldn't be too long before we make it to the edge of the city!"

Team: Colosseum Bros (Archer, Cell, Graowr)
Moving from C11 to C12

[Strazio Rockwell]

Soon enough the drugged prime had wandered his way to the fringes of a city greater than any he had seen before. His mind bubbled and fizzed as it tried to perform the mental arithmetics required to even comprehend such a grand collection of buildings. Instead of being amazed he simply fumbled about with a slackjawed grin. Some kind of forcefield stopped him from pressing forth and he spent entirely too long fiddling with what turned out to be nothing more than a chain-linked fence. While sober Strazio would’ve reduced the length of fence to nothing more than a bubbling puddle of aluminum, astronaut Straz enjoyed the detour.

Strazio stumbled through the city, surrounded by a fog visible only to his eyes. Crumbling storefronts and ruined homes served as eye candy. Where a normal being would see nothing but the dilapidated despair of a dead city Strazio’s brain twisted the greyscale into a vibrant sea of motion and colors. Remnants of the pink leaves floated around his mouth, like hundreds of honey-filled pop rocks. The druggy had only a vague sense of direction, an inner core that was still sober and fighting like hell to drag its body towards safety. The sun had retreated behind the horizon, but the colors continued their chaotic onslaught.

*BEEP*

That one sound was enough to force Strazio’s brain into panicked overload. He knew that the sound was bad, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember why. Once again his collar beeped and the red warning light flicked on. His hands shot towards the metal ring around his neck and he tugged at the restraint.

“Beep,” he mimicked, unsure as to why he mimicked it other than the fact that it felt just right.

And so it went the drugged madman frolicked into the night, beeping at the stars and making a general ass of himself.

Moving C2 to C16

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee swivels his head around sharply. He stares off towards the left, deeper into the city.

"Hey uh...Batman? Where exactly are we strollin' to?" the clown asks nonchalantly, a tinge of worry in his voice.

"We're leaving the zone. It's not safe here. Too much movement in the distance, and we aren't exactly well equipped at the moment." He responds.

"We're not making our motherfuckin' way downtown, walkin' fast?"

"Ha!" Dante barks. Good pun, good pun. Was that a pun? Like, a music based one? Probably. Whatever.

"No, we are not," The Bat says through gritted teeth.

"Ah okay well then...I gotta go. Over thattaway," he points in the direction of the safe house.

Dante and Batman stop in their tracks, turning to face the alien.

"Why exactly do you wanna go off and do that? You're hurting my feelings man, thought we were gettin' along just fine," Dante says with the makings of a worried frown apparent on his face, "plus your leg is still pretty banged up. You sure about this, Gamzee?"

Batman was silent. He struggled internally between wanting to let the clown fend for himself and feeling naturally obligated to protect the kid for as long as he could.

"Y-yeah, bro. Don't you worry 'bout this motherfucker right here, been taking care of myself for as long as I can indeed recall. Look it's been real swell travelin' with you dudes. Y'all some ice cold bros, you feelin' the nature of my understanding?"

Dante nodded v-e-r-y slowly. Batman once again resisted the urge to knock some sense into someone who was very much senseless.

"Aw, shit don't be sad my guys! This sho ain't bye forever. Y'all can find me on the Dataverse if you need some back up. And you know, I ain't dead or nuffin'. A-and even then, there's always after this show is over. Feel me? You fo sho feel me. Alright, now getcho walkin' on. I'll see you bros soon."

Dante felt a strange mix of worry, sadness, and confusion. But also a healthy dosing of 'meh, whatever'. Batman was not quite sure how he felt, not one bit.

Splitting off from BatDad and Dante. C17 -> C21

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee shuffled towards the safe house in silence. He followed his Syntech map, staring at it and just vaguely expecting the knowledge necessary to read it would just magically absorb or appear into his mind via prolonged exposure. He wasn't really sure why he felt so compelled to travel downtown, but he felt extreme disturbances in the Whimsy and Mirth that simply could not be ignored. Anyone having a carefree, jovial time in such trying circumstances was a motherfucker Gamzee just HAD to meet.

"Huh. Wouldja look at that?"

The High-Blood sucks in his breath. That voice, that motherfuckin' voice.

"You haven't killed anyone yet. We haven't killed anyone yet."

How it haunts his head space, how it invades his mind with no quarter.

"How long you think you can keep that up? Motherfucker?"

"Just be quiet. Silence and shit, please thas all I want right now," Gamzee practically begs, talking to no one but himself.

"Ah, well shit, s'not like you have much of a say in that, do ya, you sorry excuse for a High-Blood? Look at yourself. Downright shameful, pitiful. Undeserving of the title Subjugglator.

He didn't want that. He didn't want any of this. Gamzee groans, his head threatening to burst at the seams. Suddenly his bum leg is throbbing, and he finds himself relying heavily on his cane. He needed to rest, needed to make it to the safe house so he could sleep and wake up and the voices would be GONE, fwoosh, disappearing act starring a crazy, schizophrenic clown.

And then he shut his eyes and squeezed as tightly as he had ever squinched before and then and then and then

He was there. He collapsed, curled up in one of those hella roll-y, hella comfy office chairs. A single purple tear trailed down his left cheek. It wasn't enough to wash away his face paint.

C21 ->SHC

[Strazio Rockwell]

By now the leaves in his mouth had dissolved completely and he reached the apex of his high. Strazio had found refuge in what had once been a mattress store. And while the beds had seen better days they proved themselves to be quite comfortable. Not that the boy was picky, he was too high to be picky and too sleepy. He created a pseudo-fort out of mattress pads and curled up to sleep in the center of his fortifications. Fireflies nipped at his skin and sent shivers down his spine. His collar beeped once again and he opened his mouth to mimic it, but made no sound.

For too long Strazio sat their floating between the waking world and dreamland. His mind trapped in a pink-flavored twilight that he was only vaguely aware of. He stretched out across his throne of discarded furniture. His hands worked on their own and found their way to his chest. There they played with the Darkshire crest that he always carried. Again his collar beeped, indicating only a few hours until fatal detonation. What had once been a death dirge was now nothing more than a strange chime.

“Beep, beep, beep,” he muttered to himself and closed his eyes.

Once again his errant hands found another object. A cool shaft of metal found itself between his palms. He moved his hands along the length of metal and found a number of strange mechanisms and baubles attached to it. He opened his eyes and smiled.

“Demetri,” he muttered.

A dagger pierced through the fog and he shot upright in bed. Memories of his fallen friend flooded his brain and washed away the wicked languor that plagued him.

“Goddamnit,” he groaned, and shot out of bed like a college student who woke up ten minutes before the final.

Moving C16 to C21

[Strazio Rockwell]

Running in the dark is generally considered a poor idea. Running in the dark while half-stoned even worse. And running in the dark while half-stoned and lost in a foreign city with an execution collar strapped to your neck, well, you get the idea.

Strazio stumbled through the city, using the compass built into his Syntech tablet as a guiding star. With one hand he held the tablet and he kept the other outstretched, to stop himself from running face first into a wall. The drugs had not completely evacuated his system and every step felt sluggish and heavy. Shapes bubbled and frothed in the darkness, sparking into muddy and muted colors. His tongue felt like a foreign slug hiding in his mouth, it was a numb and unresponsive. With every beep of his collar the prime increased his pace.

His legs burned and his chest screamed for oxygen. And still he pushed forward. There was no way in hell that he was going to die before Gamzee, especially not to something as dumb as disqualification.

His stride was halted when he came to a brick wall. Like a rat in a maze he frantically scratched along the wall, trying to find an entrance. With one hand touching the brick he ran along it, hoping to find way through. It wasn’t until his drug-addled mind caught up to speed that he remembered just what his hands were capable of. He stopped sprinting and threw both palms against the wall. After a few moments to gather his thoughts he channeled his magick and fired a shotgun-burst of destruction into the wall, punching a hole large enough for him to crawl through.

He checked the map and was pleased to find the safehouse nearby. Without wasting anytime he broke once more into a sprint.

Moving C21 to Safehouse C

[Corporal Light]

The sun dipped below the horizon, taking all traces of the day sky with it. Stars flickered in the darkness above. The luminescence of the crescent moon above gifted the city bright, silver light. It was enough to illuminate the office complex that served as the bunker for Zone C. Clarke looked up, the cyan tri-lights of his helmet piercing the shrouds of mist settling on the streets and reflecting off of the windows of the bunker.

Even in the darkness, Isaac could tell just how gigantic the building was. It towered over everything else in the city, the floors ascending higher and higher until the top was nary but a dot in the sky. It made sense, considering it was the safehouse. A whitened parapet stuck out above the large, revolving door. On top of the parapet sat a series of limestone letters. The vast majority had crumbled into dust, leaving only the phrase “Vt ec C.” to be deciphered from the destructive mess. As Clarke got closer, he noticed that the area had become a lot more chaotic in appearance. Cars laid crushed up like tin cans along the sides of the road; the windows of the ground level of the office were cracked upon inspection; and, in a discovery that got his adrenaline pumping and his blood to turn cold, blood staining the entrance to the bunker. It was dry to the touch, and although he was pretty certain it had been there since before all the contestants arrived, it confirmed what he had already suspected: something happened that destroyed the city. It was just a question of what.

Nothing he had seen could deliver a clear answer. He had walked past a disabled, sparking, spider-like droid that must have shut down fairly recently, so one theory was robots took over and were now lying dormant. But he just couldn’t get those religious graffiti art-pieces out of his head. He saw them more and more, hidden away where the painters thought no one else would see them, as he had gotten closer to the bunker. He had ignored them the whole time, but their mere presence couldn’t have been coincidental.

His head throbbed. He had to stop thinking about it. Focus on the now.

He pulled out his flashlight and flicked it on. Pointing the beam of light into the building, he pushed the revolving door and stepped inside the safehouse.

He was met with the strangest group of individuals he had ever seen, and he had been to Unitology sessions. His flashlight shined on each of them, giving him some time to determine who they were.

The first person to catch his attention was some sort of clown-devil creature snoozing in an office chair behind the secretary’s counter. A singular, purplish tear had fallen down the alien’s cheek-- for what reason the thing was crying while it was sleeping, Isaac did not know. He decided not to awaken it.

He shone the flashlight over to the sound of footsteps over to his left. An extremely muscular man had taken to pacing the floor, small jolts of electricity arcing out from its body. Scars and burns riddled the man’s body, most likely due to how much electrical energy was inside of his body. Clarke flinched, instantly diverting the light beam onto someone far more approachable.

That someone turned out to be some type of police officer. With black side-burns and a beefy moustache, combined with his astonishingly toned abs and large frame, Clarke’s first thought was that he was the typical action movie protagonist he had seen dozens of times in various movies, albeit a cheesier one for a low-budget film of some sort. An extra from the remake of Die Hard, perhaps. He seemed like a normal human being, or at least compared to everyone else he had met.

“So…” he said, lowering his flashlight and giving off cautious chuckle, “interesting group we got here…” He was quiet to the point where anyone who was paying attention to him would have to strain themselves to hear him.

Team Space Man (Isaac) --- Still in Safehouse C, meeting up with Gamzee, Strazio, and "Mad Bull" Estes.

[Todd Ingram]

As quick as the clown appeared, he vanished like a fart in the wind. Bruce did get a positive vibe from Gamzee. Even though he was bat-shit crazy, there was something about him. Maybe, just maybe, there was a clown he was able to save after all. But that was something for another time.


Batman turned to his grey haired ally, "You've got some strange friends there Tony. We've got to plan our next move, being out here in the open is never a good idea."


"HEY! Look! Listen!" Batman's knapsack once again started to make noise.


Tony gave Bruce a look, "What was -that-?"


The masked man sighed, "A present from Karl, apparently he thought it would be fun to add a random notification sound to a random tablet. If I didn't need this thing I would've broken it in half already."


Batman took the tablet from his knapsack and activated it, Tony was looking over Bat's shoulder towards the screen. "Oh shit! Look! That drop zone is right there. We should totally go for it. Look at the timer. It's actually not too long from now."


'The timeframe is in our favor. If we go now we might be there before anyone else shows up. It's about time we were able to get one of these items for ourselves. Even though we have some wounds I'm pretty sure other contestants would have had some bump-ins by now. If we play it safe, this could be our shot.'


"Alright Tony, let's go. But let's play it smart. If shit is about to hit the fan we live to fight another day, alright?"


Tony simply nodded, agreeing with what Batman said.
"Yeah, I like living. Let's keep on doing that."


The duo started moving towards the location as indicated, walking through the streets of this large city. Batman was still on the lookout for any booby traps, primes or other creatures that might show interest in a snack. The dead streets of megacity were giving Batman the chills, so many places from which a new enemy could present itself.


They kept a steady pace until they finally reached their destination.


"Here it is. This is the spot the device is leading us towards. Best we find a good place to hide." With that said, batman shot his grappling gun and climbed up one of the nearby buildings.


"Oh yeah fine, I'll get the stairs, don't worry about me BAT-man."Said the son of sparda mockingly with a slightly annoyed tone. Apparently, there were allot of stairs to climb.


On the roof Batman prepared his weapons, restocking on batarangs and clips for his gauntlets. If there was going to be another fight, he would be prepared for it.
 

Moving Batman and Dante to C16, awaiting the item drop and claiming it once it's dropped. Willing to contest if needed.

[Simon]

It took less long for Dante to scale up to the top than Batman had anticipated. Considering the devil hunter came up from over the siding instead of the roof access, it was reasonable to assume he had decided not to take the stairs.

"How did you manage that?" Batman asked, only sparing a sideways glance. The detective already prepared at least four potential answers to the question, and only really asked out of posterity. Any bit of info on how Tony Redgrave operated might proved helpful in the future.

"Kicked off the walls," Redgrave replied, looking over to the setting sun. Within the hour, it would disappear entirely over the horizon, leaving the island shrouded in night once again. The two of them hadn't been able to savor it the first time, what with the apparent intensity of their battle with the fairies.

Batman finally offered an exhale of breath in reply, drawing another conclusion in his mind. The two of them still remained relative mysteries to one another, and the vigilante did his part to ensure he personally remained a mystery.

Time passed. how much, neither of them could say. Tony sat on the edge of the roof and pulled up his Syntech tablet, pouring over the information it offered with more clarity than earlier. Two particular notifications surprised him. "Hey, Batman."

The black cowl offered no immediate response.

"Why didn't you mention the two major item drops that happened earlier today?" Dante looked back to the tablet, examining the locations for the "quest items". "Would've helped to know where they were."

"It would've have mattered. We're weren't close enough to either of them," Batman explained, justifying his actions. "Be fortunate this drop is close. That clown took that other drop with him when he left- we're absolutely not going to lose this one, do you understand?"

Dante seemed surprised at the sudden confrontational tone the gruff voice took, and tried to act disarmingly. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. No big deal," he said, soon lapsing into a smarmy comment, "Forgive me if I didn't want to beat up a guy who walked with a cane."

The two of them said nothing after that, for longest time. Batman had made it quite clear that their relationship was tenuous at best, and had only come out of necessity in this death contest. At any moment, the dark knight was prepared to turn on whatever allies he amassed. That was how it always had been.

If only he knew Dante was counting on exactly that.

Not moving anywhere. I'm just posting for gains.

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull glared suddenly at Isaac, a look of baneful distrust etched across the cop's chiseled jaw as the spaceman shined his light at the policeman.
 
“Shut that damned thing off or get it outta my face,” the Sergeant barked.
 
With a small audible click Isaac complied and turned off the flashlight. The burly cop approached him, a revolver at the ready in one hand and a gas can in the other. He studied Isaac for a moment, then satisfied the man bore him no harm, smiled grimly. The thick-chested officer congenially draped his pistol holding arm on Isaac's shoulder and tapped the barrel of the gun lightly on the metallic suit.
 
“That military issue?
 
“You could say that,” Isaac replied cool. “I was in the Merchant Marines.”
 
“That a fact! Well semper fi, Marine!” Mad Bull exhorted, totally missing the subtext of Isaac's reply. “Did a tour of 'Nam myself and shot Charlies for a good three years.” The Sergeant mused with a sigh.
 
He pulled on Isaac's shoulder and ushered him away from the other two. “Listen up tin-can, you seem alright so lemme bend yer ear a second. See that fella over there?” he asked pointing at Strazio. Isaac nodded within his powered suit. “Total drughead.” the cop spoke matter-a-factly. “W..what do you mean?” Isaac asked.
 
“You know… a junky, punk, pusher hophead lookin’ ta score a fix. Trust me kid, I'm a cop, see it all the time. I been keepin’ my eye on him since he twitched through the door.”
 
Mad Bull cocked a finger at Gamzee. “And that creep, who the hell knows! I'd guess he’s looped out on PCP, but he smells more like grape soda than angel dust.”
 
Isaac nodded noncommittally. The officer continued, “Look tin-pot, I'd bust 'em myself, but I got bigger fish to fry, know what I mean?”
 
“No. What *do* you mean?” Isaac asked.
 
Mad Bull rattled the half full gas can, letting the liquid slosh around. “Words out that an item is set to drop nearby. I got a ride outside that can take us there. She ain’t a beaut, but if I fill up the tank, I think we can ride easy to the drop zone. Whadda ya say?”

Isaac & Mad Bull moving from Safehouse C to C21.

[Gildarts]

Gildarts and Illidan staggered away, walking slowly and meekly as he calculated how it is they could have lost, the darkness of arrogance still tided over his mind, however now there was a light, that was likely the toughness his competition would now come in. Impressive, real, raw. And the man to his side? Whoaa. Illidan still had the feeling the mage could offer more, they had lost the item, but not the war.

Together they could hone their skills and get back in the fight, time allowing, but first, each walked with a slight limp and Gildarts procured something on good faith. “You’ll be better after this,” Gildarts implied with his words as he fiddled with his only good hand, ironically, the organic one.

They’d gotten out of that one with most of their skin completely covered in blood. Gildarts had looked more orc than man now due to his complexion, albeit cracking the dryness of the air and oxidizing blood. "All is not lost," Illidan said to his ally, and both remained hopeful.

"Is all of that your blood or just most of it?" Illidan said with a chuckle and Gildarts grinned too.

"Both, more than likely, but Nealaphh's blood is black if I remember correctly," Gildarts informed.

"Don't got much of his on you," Illidan quipped.

"You're right about that, I've barely ever seen him bleed," Gildarts looked up at Illidan as he tended his wounds, flesh was split on almost every appendage of his body, blood drooled out still from the slices in the dark elf's skin.

"Your hair now matches the rest of you, now you can be known as the red mage!" Illidan smirked, he wasn't being funny, but Gildarts got a shiver and had a Deadpool flashback from that one time he encountered the comedian.

"Yeah yeah, I'm bloody and gross. Let's go back to the city, it was nicer there."

Gildarts used 4 medi Gels on Illidan to reduce his damage and they moved from B15 to C5

[Corporal Light]

“Ah, so you’re the guy with the car outside?” Isaac said.

“Yep! Jacked it on the way in and cruised it along through until I got here. With it, we can probably reach it in no time flat.” Mad Bull walked past the space engineer, his shoulder slamming against Clarke’s for a brief moment.

Isaac frowned. “Sounds like a plan.”

Truth be told, he was bit astonished that he hadn’t thought of that himself. It wouldn’t have taken that long, either. It would have likely been as simple as rerouting wires and he would have had a running vehicle to use. The only problem then would be siphoning fuel from other cars and gas stations. Regardless, having someone who had a working car was better than trying to traverse the city on foot.

He followed Mad Bull outside, making sure to keep at least a few feet behind him. If the man intended on making him roadkill or otherwise trying to screw him over, then he needed to be ready. The last thing he could afford was another “ally” showing their true colors.

The action hero cop set the gas can down next to his Buick, though not before giving the broken spider droid next to the car a swift kick. The blow was enough to dent a good chunk of the side of the robot.

As the cop went back to the Buick to fill up the car, Isaac spoke up.

“Wow, what did that thing do to you?” he said.

“Tried to blow me off the road, that’s what!” The cop replied. “Luckily, it’s gonna take more than some sort of rusted traffic bot to take me down!”

Yeah, yeah, keep up the bravado, McClane…

He looked over towards the destroyed robot. The spherical dome that served as its head had been separated from the rest of the metallic chassis, with a bent antennae and cracked, red eyes on its front. Despite the dismemberment, however, the actual head itself was intact.
 
I wonder…

“Hey, kid, what you doing?” The cop said, glancing towards Isaac as he walked towards the bot’s head.

Isaac didn’t respond. He knelt over the head and picked it up. He twisted it around, searching for a panel he could remove.

“You know, if you’re lookin’ for confirmation that it’s fuckin’ dead, look no further than two feet in front of you.” Mad Bull said, pointing towards the rest of the body.

“Not what I’m looking for…” Clarke whispered to nobody in particular. After a bit of twisting and turning, he found a slight groove along the back of the droid’s head with a panel. Smiling, he gripped the panel and pulled it right out. He dropped it onto the ground with a metallic clunk before sticking his hand inside.

The cop walked towards him, his nostrils flared and his brow creased with anger. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m trying to find something! Just give me a few seconds!” Isaac replied, grunting as a spark of electricity singed his hand. 


His hand slithered around the insides of the robot’s head, sneaking through wires, plugs, processors, and circuits. Eventually, he gripped something rectangular in shape. He jerked it out, one last jolt of electric bolts arcing out of the head as he dropped it to the floor, his attention only on the square object he had pulled out.

“What is that?” Mad Bull asked.

“The droid’s brain.”


The brain glowed a deep azure color. Several red, yellow, and white wires poked out from sockets all over the box, most of them having been severed entirely at half length. The luminescence dissipated every few seconds like a heartbeat. It was cold to the touch, as if a layer of ice coated the surface of the brain.

“...Okay, you pulled out its brain. Why?”

The engineer’s shoulders slumped. He slid it inside his knapsack. He said nothing.

“Hmph…” Mad Bull turned around and walked back towards the Buick. Isaac followed, silent. The cop slid into the driver’s side while Clarke took the passenger. With a quick restart, the car roared with life, the engine rumbling, the headlights igniting a beam of light in front of them. Within a few seconds, their vehicle sped away from the entrance and onto the streets of the city once more.

It wasn’t until they had been on the road for what seemed like hours in awkward silence did Clarke speak up.

“To answer your question,” he said, pausing to let the sentence settle, “I… I want to find out what happened here.”

Team Space Bull (Isaac + mad Bull) --- Moving from C21 to C16 to await the item drop.

[MADBULL34]

Sergeant John Estes and Isaac Clark sat idling in the old Buick, parked along the sidewalk in front of an old ice-cream parlor. The burly officer had both his bear-sized paws gripping the steering wheel, and from the whites showing on his knuckles he was none too pleased.
 
Isaac’s mind was hard at work, thinking through all the infinite possibilities that had brought this sprawling metropolis to ruin and left it with only artificial servants to keep it in order.  The electronic “brain” of one of those droids pulsed quietly within Isaac bag, but the steely look in his new friend’s eyes drew him from his burgeoning imagination.
 
“What's the matter Sleepy?” Isaac inquired.
 
“We’ve been spotted that's what,” Mad Bull muttered in annoyed frustration.
 
“What? How?” Isaac asked with surprise.  “This city is so empty, how could that be?”
 
Mad Bull rubbed a meaty finger under his nose, bristling the hairs of his thick mustache. In a single gruff motion the lawman snapped the transmission into park, cut the ignition and opened the driver’s side door. The old car let out a metallic creak and moan as the weight on the suspension shifted. He stood atop the tarmac and took a moment to adjust the leather utility belt strapped to his waist.  Isaac leaned through the cab of the car and asked again with growing unease.
 
“Where? Where are they?”
 
The sergeant unholstered his Smith & Wesson .38 revolver with one hand and fished out a fist full of rounds from his pocket. Methodically, perhaps even meditatively, he loaded each chamber of the six-shot cylinder. After finishing, he flicked the weapon together and shoved it back in its leather hipholster. He pointed a hairy finger to the sky, drawing a line to the rooftop of a nearby building.
 
“What is that?” Isaac began as he exited the car and stood alongside the lawman. He peered closely at the rooftop, then exclaimed. “It looks like two guys are standing up there!”
 
Mad Bull nodded, then reached into the Buick, withdrawing a Remington 870 police-issue shotgun. He placed the long-barrelled weapon under his arm and reached into the car again, this time withdrawing several grenade-like canisters marked in stenciled paint - TEAR GAS.
 
“The question is who…” the Sergeant replied, “… and why.”

Team Space Bull (Isaac + Mad Bull) are waiting for the item drop in C16. We're declaring our intention to fight for the item. Dante & Batman can retreat, place nicely and join us, or duke it out.

[Simon]

The sun finally dipped under the threshold of the horizon, giving way to the shades of night. A dull moon hovered overhead, stars sparkling freely with none of the bright city lights to diminish them. Silence seemed to settle over the island...

That is, until the sound of an engine began to drone into play. Batman and Dante quietly shuffled over to the side of their perch to overlook the source: a rattling old car roaring down the thoroughfare, two large figures manning the front seats. The two on the roof overlooked the clattering machine, watching it sputter through an intersection (to the annoyance of an automated traffic light) and pull into the local plaza. The detective had predicted the item would drop here, and apparently so did these newcomers.

"What do you think-?" Redgrave asked, but Batman shushed him with a raised hand, sidling over to investigate. The figures that lurched out of the car were both hulking in their own rights; one had a boisterous amount of muscle and fat underneath his weathered cop outfit, and the other wore a cumbersome-looking suit of powered armor. The vigilante narrowed his eyes, drawing resemblances to old foes.

"Well?" Redgrave asked again, in a whisper this time. "Got a plan?"

The black cowl grunted, displeased with the situation. The competitors below were large and brandished suitably large weapons. Handling even both of them might've been possible outside of the Omniverse, but between the nature of Omniphysics and his own damage, there was no telling how much of a fight these folks could put up.

"I won't lie- I don't like the looks of it," Batman explained, his voice hushed but still gruff. "They both look like they're in good shape, and chances are their weapons can pack a punch."

Dante acknowledged this carefully, his own brow furrowing under the tense situation. He began to concentrate, focusing on the link to one of his weapons. Suddenly, the dark knight's silencing hand sprung up again, this time to pull the redcoat away from the edge of the building. Dante nearly fell over from the force, but he threw off the armored glove grappling him and returned to a standing postion. "The hell-?!"

"They spotted us. We're leaving," the black cowl spoke, blunt and to the point, "We're in no condition to pick fights in our current condition."

Dante was offended, but recalled their earlier encounter. Though the son of Sparda had been certain he had dealt fatal damage to the red fairy, she had picked herself up well enough to help chase the two off. If someone that frail could withstand such an assault, these burly-looking dudes could probably take it all in stride.

"So we retreat," Tony said finally, not entirely willing to catch on to his ally's plan.

"We need to move carefully, Redgrave," Batman justified. "We're only together mutually, because we're in poor condition. Either we find a way to fix ourselves, or we find strong allies willing to aid us."

Dante hummed briefly. He mulled over who he had met so far... and settled on two souls not yet accounted for. "I think I know just where to find 'em," the devil hunter said with new resolve. "It'll take some backtracking, but it may just be worth it, believe me."

The vigilante conceded to Dante's half of the suggestion, before they both took off across the buildings and into the moonlit darkness.

Dante and Batman moving to C17 from C16. LATER SUCKERS
also we're not trying to challenge anybody who might be in that space