(Preshow) Preshow Facility

[The Future Warrior]

Graowr watched curiously, taking note of the long-eared man's reaction and fidgeting. Her eyes remained wide and open, unblinking, as her head tilted just slightly. Like a cat, almost. Maybe he just didn't want to talk about it? Oh, but then he went on. When he was done, the majin just watched him for a few moments, not saying anything. Looking from him, to the big guy in the red coat and back again. "That sounds kind of awful," she finally spoke up, with a quick nod. Yeah, awful was a word for what it was, that was for sure.

"What?" Jak's tone was sharp, as he turned his attention to the blue creature.

"All that you just said. Killing people, and being used and stuff. It's bad." She snapped her head up straight. "It sounds like it bothers you. That kinda thing bothers a lot of people." She brought a hand up to scratch at one cheek, going quiet for a second. "I try not to think about it when I can, but it gets to me sometimes too, y'know? Even when it's someone as bad as a guy like the ones you're talking about. But, hey. Sometimes you don't have a choice, y'know?" She nodded again, both arms coming up to rest on the table as she leaned over it. The mess of tentacles that passed for hair wobbled and waved about crazily as she nodded energetically, agreeing with her own voiced thoughts. "It doesn't really make it any easier, but if it was easy it wouldn't be bothering you so much in the first place!"

"Or...or something like that. I try not to think about it."

[Todd Ingram]

From the teleporter the Dark knight appeared in all his glory. His armor, black as the night, was upgraded, charged and stocked. His cape wavering behind him. Equipped with weapons and gadgets designed to turn man into legend, ready for the iconic competition. First things first, he had to check out his competition. Information is the single most important ally Batman could have. He needed to know who and what he was up against.

Keeping to the background he prowled the facility, using the shadows, corners and every trick in the book to be as unnoticeable as possible. Unfortunately it was an impossible task to remain low profile in a place like this. A full grown man dressed as an armored bat like suit surrounded by children, bugs, demons and god knows what else. Never before had Batman seen a more strange convention of individuals. Even he didn't stand out as strange amongst these strange primes. It was the first time he'd seen this many together. There were even youngsters running around with weapons like swords and guns, this truly was a strange place.

Amongst the gathered primes he hadn't found the people he was hoping to find. Even though the gathering was rather large and he didn't have enough time to scout the whole facility, he did manage to observe some of the others. He had to play it safe, the game was about to begin.

[Malon]

Malon was about to answer when Assassin poked her in the rib. Well, as much as a figment of imagination could poke a material being anyway. He could be an ally. It never hurts to have some.

"Not at all", Malon replied to the stranger's question, keeping Assassin's note in the back of her head. It would probably for the best not to tell him how she had little idea of what they were all waiting for, but she suspected, after the armored woman's words and the sight of armed and armored individuals of all kinds in the hallways, that it was not going to be a friendly game of Catch-the-Cuccoo. She acted as casually as she could as she opened the pouch and tested it by putting one, then the other sickle into it, followed by her knife and finally the battleaxe. All disappeared into the fist-sized bag without a problem. So this was working out perfect. "Please, sit down. The bench is wide enough for the two of us."

Tearen shrugged as he moved to sit besides her. "I feel like we will be going soon, but sure. I'm Tearen. Tearen Wover."

"Malon... uhh, of Hyrule. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She put the bag aside and, disguising the motion as that she had to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, checked that the bandana was still in place. It would be a pretty awkward situation if it slid off and her disguise fell. "I don't know how to better word this, but outside of your clothing you look very 'normal' compared to most of the people around here."

"My clothes? Perhaps", Tearen replied with a grin. "Looks can be deceiving though."

"I guess that this goes for you?" she prodded, wondering if he had somehow seen past her disguise.

"For me, for just about everyone in this area and maybe even for you too." He put in a rhethoric pause, then asked: "If I may ask, how did you come to join Dante's Abyss?"

"I stumbled into it more than anything, I'll be honest. What about you?"

"I want to warn people about a threat that lingers, and Dante’s Abyss has a huge audience and many known individuals joining in. It’s a good opportunity to spread the word. I knew about the event for a while and joined as soon as I was able."

"So you're in it for… the attention?"

"Aren't we all?"

"Well... not really. I for one doubt that I'll get far, as I am widely unfamiliar with this world. And considering the scale of this event, there are bound to be a number of stronger contestants than I."

"That's true. But, perhaps we can team up for the occasion? If you want to make it through you'll need friends, and if I want to win someone to have my back would be a great help.” He tilted his head a little as he spoke and let her consider the offer.

He seems more savvy than he lets in on, Assassin remarked. Tearen was now sitting where she was, which made it kind of odd since her body was phasing through his. It could be a very useful alliance. And he’s got nothing to win if he decides to backstab you, does he?

I suppose, Malon thought her response. Though she didn’t feel like trusting the first stranger she came across of, someone to team up with for what was to come seemed like a good idea. Especially if that someone knew about this world and its rules more than she did, right?

“I’d be happy to form a group”, Malon finally replied to Tearen’t offer. “You sound trustworthy and we could both use someone to help us through what’s to come, I believe.” How ironic that she called him trustworthy when she herself was deceiving him with her appearance. Well, she would reveal the truth to him in due time. Not here and not now though, not where she knew not who was watching them.

[Little Ghost]

BAR AND RESTAURANT

The temerity of that little! All right, he could deal with this. Erratic as these events were, he could deal with this. These 'hooman'-type bugs where all crazy, but not like the bugs of Hallownest, no. This craze was one of individuality, for while he had seen others act similar to that strange Ron Burgundy-bug, most others had their own specific tasks to complete. If it wasn't for the obvious irritation, and sometimes lack of coordination, Little Ghost had noticed in between each of the workers whenever they inevitably got in each other's way he would have thought them controlled like those feral inhabitants of Hallownest. The smell of various foodstuffs being prepared for consumption interrupted his storm of- Void swelled beneath his thorax, rumbling like the approaching pressure wave of a hurricane making landfall. The burgeoning emotions clashed with the wave of Empty Void and, though they struggled, were eventually subsumed. Silence reigned within Little Ghost's mind, pale echoes of the earlier indignation at his situation was all that remained. A storm of what, again? A second rumble passed through Little Ghost, one of very unfamiliar origin. This one too emanated from his thorax, but also a bit further down than last time. Little Ghost stared down at what humans would call his stomach. It rumbled once more, surprising Little Ghost sufficiently to make him jump slightly.

An equally rumbling laugh sounded from his left, the cashier of Barry's Bacon Steakhouse was looking at Little Ghost with the current lul in customers. Grease, various meats, grease, bacon, and more grease was apparently not too popular a meal amongst these fighters intent on keeping their bodies in tip top shape. "Yah hungry, lil' fellah?" the large man asked, his voice a timbre that was... pleasant to Little Ghost's ears. The little bug looked at the man leaning over the counter, then left, right, and behind himself before meeting the eyes of the large cashier once more, a hand tentatively venturing outside the cloak to rest palm first on the center of his thorax, almost shyly asking the question of 'Me? Are you sure?'. The cashier smiled widely, teeth lightly yellowed from stress and a bad diet standing out almost white in contrast to his heavily tanned skin. "You see anyone else your size in here?" the man asked rhetorically. Little Ghost took a quick glance through the room. A table with three of those strange 'hoomans' talking to each other, and then scattered only scattered gatherings of people clad in the working clothes like the other attendant-bugs. "Heck, you see anyone else near you at the moment? Of course I mean you!" the large man continued with gusto, drawing attention to both himself and to Little Ghost. The table of three 'hoomans', one of which had this curvature to her upper thorax that Little Ghost had observed in roughly half of these 'hoomans', quieted for a brief moment. Sending quick evaluating glances his way they soon resumed their conversation and... Oh, they were eating. There was that strange rumble again, that growl from mid-low in his thorax.

"Well? What are yah waiting for, have a seat!" the large cashier declared, gesturing to one of the stools by the counter. Little Ghost began moving slowly, almost unsure of himself, before accelerating to a normal pace, his small legs bringing him to the stool indicated by the man behind the counter. Taking a seat, Little Ghost was presented with a selection of various meals on the sheaf of thick paper held out by the cashier. The paper had pictures on it and had Little Ghost onown anything about restaurant culture it would have made him understand exactly why this establishment was less frequented than the others. But with Little Ghost lacking said knowledge it was time to order. "Name's Barry, lil' fellah, now what can I get yah?" Little Ghost's eyes ran up and down the menu before locking with Barry's once more. A shrug was the answer. "Not sure? Hah! Then I'll be sending yah on a culinary trip you're not gonna forget!" Turning around to the kitchen behind him, he bellowed something about a "Full Course Roller Coaster Deluxe". The reply must have satisfied him because he turned back to Little Ghost with an even bigger grin on his face. "And don'tcha worry 'bout the bill, Syntech Corporation reimburses all of us in full when we serve contestant primes." Billy leaned a bit closer to Little Ghost and winked conspiratorially. "Even the mute ones."

Little Ghost looked back at the observant man, apparently the owner of this establishment, and tilted his head questioningly. "How ah noticed? Hah! Ol' Ron was rollin' live when he interviewed yah!" Little Ghost did not know what "rollin' live" was, but it sounded important here. "Could've been the biggest mistake o' his life, if not for Nealaphh's bombshell about Diablo." the atmosphere among those working at Barry's Bacon Steakhouse being dampened very perceptibly by the mention of that name. Someone cursed in the back and a mad scramble of feet was heard. Barry's expression darkened and as he was turning to ask what the fuck they were doing back there a shout of 'all clear, nothing broken' forestalled his tirade. Grumbling to himself the relatively goodnature man faced Little Ghost once more. "Yah should know better than to mention that name, Barry." Shaking himself out of the mood, the large man once again tried striking up conversation with Little Ghost but was once again interrupted by a call from the kitchen. Apparently a 'Double Baconator Deluxe' was coming, accompanied by a 'Malt Chocolate Mind Twister'. Strange things these, and before  Little Ghost thought to check the menu in front of him for pictures with matching names, Barry had whisked the paper away and replaced it with the largest burger a person could reliably order without the chef resorting to Omnillium transmutation to make it. For those well versed in the 'American Style' of cuisine it was a beautiful monster. Several levels of alternating bread, lettuce, onions, grilled beef cuts, tomatoes, sauces, and, most important of all, lots and lots of bacon. Bacon smoked over applewood chips. Easily as tall as Little Ghost's head he looked at the magnificent beast of a burger with dubious eyes. "Don't knock it til' yah tey it," Barry laughed at Little Ghost's blatant skepticism. "Go on, have a bite."

Surreptisiously observing others eating their meals, and Barry's strange attempts at miming how one should eat a hamburger such as this, Little Ghost believed that he had an idea on how to proceed. Two carapaced hands rose out of Little Ghost's cloak, attached to dark grey carapaced arms, to secure the burger in a steady grip. A part of the carapace covering his mouth slid back, splitting down the middle to allow access, and then a cute little "nom" as the first bite was taken. Little Ghost's eyes widened in marvel at the strange feeling in his mouth, at the strange sensation of smoke, fat, salt, sourness, and spiciness balancing itself like a brutal heavy metal concert. The rumbling in his thorax returned, now a roar of hunger. It was a new feeling, of an emptiness in his thorax that very insistently demanded to be filled. Little Ghost was all too happy to oblige, decimating the Double Baconator Deluxe in ten seconds of voracious feeding, leaving naught behind. "Ahaha, a big eater. I LIKE IT!" Barry exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Get the rest of the stuff out here, on the double!" he hollered back to his kitchens, much to the annoyance of the closest surrounding 'food court' restauranteers, before explaining the functions of a sstraw by sipping on his own bottle of water from behind the counter. And just like that Little Ghost mimicked him with the Malt Chocolate Mind Twister, draining the overly large milkshake creation in even less time it had taken him to finish the burger. Another roar of hunger. It seemed like whatever black hole had replaced what should have been Little Ghost's stomach demanded even more of these magical foodstuffs. Not to strange given what it was made of. More and more plates of food and glasses of milkshake were put on the counter and much like their predecessor they were emptied with outmost haste. Barry leaned back and watched the proceeding in morbid curiosity as a single creature no more than four feet tall proceeded to dish after dish empty out his stock and his stores more quickly than the delegated Syntech Corporation cargo-people could replace it. The Empty Void roared within Little Ghost, requiring more and more and more to feed it, causing Little Ghost to actually accelerate his feeding frenzy.

Barry's laughter, once boisterous and loud, now slowly growing quieter with the rapidly expanding mountain of emptied plates and drained milkshake glasses. The mirth faded into awe, the awe transitioned into neutrality, and through neutrality worry broke out once Little Ghost had spent ten minutes of eating at the same pace with no sign of stopping. Barry was conflucted, for while he hated turning a good customer away he needed to preserve at least some of his stores for other customers so that the cargo-people could bring in fresh supplies. He had to stop Little Ghost and make him move on. "Hey, lil' fellah!" Little Ghost paused at the call for his attention, half a fried chicken leg wrapped in bacon three quarters down his mouth and gullet, eyes locking with Barry's and asking for the meaning of this interruption. "I have tah send you on to the next one, lil' fellah, or you'll empty our stores hours before we can next restock." Little Ghost finished the piece of food in his hand and looked pleadingly at the very tanned cashier and owner. "All right, all right, you can finish what's left on these before yah go."

It took less than a minute but a still hungry Little Ghost moved on to the next restaurant, one dedicated to eastern cousine, leaving a mountain of polished off plates more than twice his size behind him.

[Gildarts]

Mouth of the Hallway

 
The Fairy Tail mage still had a dull ringing in his ears, it kept him a little spaced out but he was determined to keep a strong appearance, as that is what people like this creature held in high opinion. The consequence, if he didn’t keep the creature impressed would be that Illidan would see him as weak, out there on the island, that was a cost Gildarts did not want to pay. The Ambrosian mage had sized Illidan up before he had walked across the room to meet him. Now, the mage had heard his voice, knew the impatience, the experienced the confidence in him firsthand. Perhaps most notably was the lust for power that radiated fiercely from within him. The elf was a powerful creature, raised beyond the limits of man. Gildarts had encountered his type before. Any show of weakness would make him seem like bait in the coming event, an easy victory, and well, Gildarts knew the game and had gotten himself into this mess. Now he had to play.
 
“I am a participant, yes,” Gildarts said to the dark elf, never revealing more than he had to. Not his true goal in this competition, not either, that he’d been in this tournament before and failed. The auburn-haired mage turned his head up to the creature and both of their “gazes” had locked. Neither had yet decided ‘friend or foe’ not that you could, in a game like this, when everything had suddenly been put on the line.
 
Between the sorcerer and the mage, there was an intense, invisible static building like a gradual earthquake shaking the space between them. Who would draw first? Or, who would bow out. It was not a staring contest, for Illidan had a blindfold over his eyes, but it was a standoff for the title of the paramount.
 
Illidan had been right, this man had proven amusing, not to mention competent and… Distinctly formidable. He was a threat, the question was, did he squash him here or wait to see what happened next? He felt his elfin fingers twitch with eager anticipation, yet his form remained stoic and rigid, the game had yet to begin, there had yet been revealed a weak place to aim his first blow. The silver parts of the human might have made him stronger, so he could not assume that those would fall apart like mere scrap metal. So they remained, frozen in the confines of the stalemate as the time compressed around them. The air between them was thick with aggression and the torrential life of a storm had begun to crackle around the two. Each of them waiting as the time ticked, growing eager for a match to be struck and an immense explosion to go off. Waiting for the first move. Of what sort, deathly, or playful, neither would be able to tell until the torch was lit. Illidan’s patience was faltering. He thirsted to see what type of power this human had locked away for no one to see. A punch to this human’s face would quench the challenge for title and power Gildarts had inaudibly posed, but Illidan dare not sully his own hands.
 
The buildup was reaching the edge of a cliff, teetering on the inevitable destruction of first their sanity, then perhaps, the entire room. When the Fairy Tail mage peeled back the layers into the solemn fighter that he had often buried away, it was hard for him to readjust, pulling out of a high-stakes situation wasn’t something easy to do for a man who had to keep a lid on his powers, not to mention one that had to keep a proud name for his guild. So what happened next was no surprise when a small squid came up and called Gildarts a jerk in front of the dark-sorcerer was to be expected.
 
Gildarts had almost ignored him, but then Illidan offered a half-slant of amusement on his lips. One of victory. One Gildarts could not back down from. Both primes exuded confidence and pride, neither had quite breached the realm of arrogance, though surely, the two magic-wielders were teetering on that edge too.
 
It was instinctual for Gildarts, who had much to lose depending how this unspoken stand-off went, for the him to do exactly what followed. The darkness of Gildarts’ eyes was stunning as he turned his head and not did not move his body for risk of announcing admitting defeat to the dark elf who had inaudibly laid much consequence on the line if the mage bailed. The Fairy Tail mage would likely be set to the first on his threat’s death list, yes, people like this dark elf were often as sadistic as they come, and Gildarts didn’t possess the power to know what was going through his rival’s mind. He could only assume this to be true.
 
The Ambrosian almost did nothing, he’d been mistaken for someone else, but besmirching and slandering his title as well as his pride in front of an enemy who held much consequence, who may have been the source of the vision that had scared him so deeply, well, Gildarts weighed the pros and cons. He took the consequences that would come with this squid’s intrusion, for it was out of line enough to merit a small token of punishment. The cost may be high. Or it may be nil. But Gildarts wagered Illidan for the highest prize and his gut instinct may have been right.
 
Illidan meanwhile, watched. He was ever-observant, keen on his fellow prime, as though a God who was waiting to be fed a grape upon his throne while the peasants fanned him cool. There was something ancient, something that whispered only under the cover of shadow, which was exuded from the elfin Prime. A power that remained dormant but ever-ready to strike… The challenger waited for Gildarts’ response, if the human failed, there was no telling how weak and undignified Gildarts would appear. It would become everything.
 
Immense waves of power radiated off the Prime, so much so that it took Illidan’s breath away, for he would have never guessed. The ground beneath the silver-appendaged prime seemed to crack with pressure, a subtle rolling light of energy gleamed off of the prime’s olive skin. Waves of power spewed from the Fairy Tail mage's form, targeted at the squid, not that this type of anger could be aimed.

It was unable to be tamed and the terrifying effect struck forth toward Abyss. Gildarts growled as his gruff voice fell on the squishy-creature's ear holes, putting on a compelling and severely believable show, the mental effect made even the Prime's voice sound terribly daunting, as though he were about to release the wrath of gods, "You have made a grave mistake. For I'm known as Gildarts and I don't take lightly to being called a jerk by strangers."

 
 
 

Gildarts used “Fear!” on Abyss.

Fear- 300 (Debuff, ranged, area attack)
 
Waves of power roll off Gildarts at a stunning rate, the vibrations, almost rippling through the air like a roar, causing the affected to tremble in trepidation.
 
Gildarts' finds a balanced stance and notices his pursuer coming for him. He focuses his energy before releasing it outwards, into the air around him, which has a range of five to seven feet around him. After seven feet, the effect dissipates, and anyone beyond that is not affected by the power.
 
Effect on opponent: They become stunned and are unable to find balance (ie dizziness/cognition disturbance).
 
There is no charge up time, however, when he uses this repeatedly, he gets very tired. It uses a lot of energy, and can only be used ONCE per battle.
 
The effect lasts 45 seconds.
 
Taking damage immediately sets them free from the effects of parallelization.

[Jak Mar]

In the midst of the library, Jak took a breath. He couldn’t get mad at Graowr. After all, Graowr never went through the same things he had to do at his own hands.

Then again, the torture at Praxis’s hand still bothered him inside, along with the attempts at growing his power in Coruscant.

Jak gritted his teeth “I’m not looking for any form of pity from anyone.”

A light lightning blast crackled from the eco warrior, and stopped. It was never easy to reveal to a friend what had been bothering him for years upon years.

“I propose an alliance. One that benefits us all in the long run.”

His eyes popped over near another man who made his way into the library, not saying much and just reading.

[Professor Sunshine]

HALLWAY

Before Abyss could say anything else, the waves of Gildart's power went all through her entire being as she fell from the pure terror that was coming from the human mage. Abyss was utterly shocked and terrified at Gildarts because of this, since he never seen such power come off from anyone, and Abyss was worried that even with the Golden Alliance, that the human would curbstomp the group into utter oblivion. As Abyss tried to get up, her utter terror managed to make her fall down once again, as she shaked in fear from the human. Eventually, Abyss was able to get up after around a minute of trying to get up only to fall, but she was still shaking in fear, and as she slowly tried to step away she gestured Bendy to leave back to go back to Chakravartin.

"M-my mistake, I thought you were Tearen, but if your not that person I am so, so sorry for calling you a jerk. M-my name is Abyss, and I am so sorry for accusing you of that outburst. Now if you will excuse me, I'm going to use the bathroom." As Abyss slowly stepped backward torwards the Gym, she managed to bump into Illidan, who the squid did not even notice before then. Upon looking at the night elf, Abyss was terrified of Illidan, as he looked like a genuine demon with the purple skin and weird ears he had. After she saw Illidan, Abyss screamed as she ran, before bumping into Chakravartin.

After Chakravartin calmed Abyss down, she questioned the SARU on why he left the gym, saying "Hey, why did you leave your post Chakravartin, did something happen at the gym?" After hearing from Chakravartin on why he left, Abyss narrowed her eyes in a bit of anger, but then sighed, before explaining to Chakravartin on what happened while she was away from him. After Chakravartin said that he wanted to keep a check on the competition, Abyss allowed him to leave, saying to the god "Fine, you can go and spy on the others, maybe it could provide some strategic advantage to our group once we get to the main event after you use that halo to unite us. Oh, and if you see Bendy while your out spying, tell him that once we get to the main event, to have his halo track me so we won't have to find him."

While waiting for Chakravartin to get back from spying on the others and talking to Bendy, an alarm came from all over the building from Karl Jak, saying "Attention, as of this moment there is only one hour until it is time to head to the island where this year's Dante's Abyss is going to be held. Please head to your room in the Barracks just in case you left something in there, because if you leave something here, you sure in hell won't be able to get it back! And if you haven't had time to yet, we remind you to to go to the Bar to get one last meal before this event begins, since food will be scarce on the island. As a reminder, Dante's Abyss is one hour away."

As Abyss heard the announcement coming out, she was surprised because of two things, the first thing being that she had her own room while waiting for this main event, yet nobody even bothered to tell her, which angered her a bit. The other thing that surprised her was that the Dante's Abyss thing would be happening on some sort of island, but as far as she understood, it didn't seem like Syntech Station 17 was on a island, as there weren't any windows to see what was outside, even within the other rooms. As Abyss checked herself to make sure that she had everything, she started to look around for Chakravartin so she could talk on last second plans once they reached the island.

[The Future Warrior]

Graowr's reaction was immediate and swift, as soon as the lightning crackled from the elven man. A blur of azure, and she went from crouching on her knees in the chair, resting on the table, to a rapid flip. Precariously balancing on the back of the chair for a split-second, and leaping back off of it into a flip, carrying her well through the air to land in a crouch atop one of the bookshelves. Eyes wide and alert, arms held out wide, hands half-curled into fists. Ready to pounce or spring into action as necessary.

Her attention remained fixated on Jak for several long, tense, silent seconds. Finally, she lost the nervous, anxious edge to her posture, dropping down to flop into a sitting posture on the edge of the shelf, legs dangling down below and kicking back and forth slowly. "You got a lot of repressed anger and stuff, huh?" she said offhandedly, watching from the relative distance atop the bookshelf for a few moments.

"Oooh, an alliance, huh? That means working together and stuff?" She leaned back until her back was laying flat against the top of the shelf, and sprung forward, hopping off the shelf to land more or less squarely back in her original chair, feet first in a squat. "That could be cool! If I understand this abyss thing though, we'd still have to fight eventually though."

[The Humble Sage]

teleporter ==> the Park

The Sage walked through the ‘teleporter’, still feeling dubious about the technology’s stability. It felt unnatural, an inelegant solution to the problem, at the very least. He was not here to nitpick Karl Jak’s choices of technology, however. The Sage made his way through the main hall of the facility, simply looking at the huge variety of individuals who had signed up for this wanton display of violence. These were the threads he supposed. He passed a library, that would likely be his final sanctuary before the actual event began, though there was entirely too much yelling for him to actually pursue any studies there.

For now, he would see just who else had agreed to take part in the event. He passed mages and demonic warriors, a small insectoid being tearing voraciously into a whole ham, and a group of younger looking primes who were hanging out in a place that looked designed for marital practice.  One could gain much insight from watching the others here…

Eventually he found the park. It was occupied, like every other part of the facility. This contest was indeed a place where the threads of the Omniverse collected. He made his way to one of the benches, gaze caught by the large floating screens that dominated the area. They seemed to be recording everything that transpired within the compound, and the Sage found himself drawn to the narrative the screens presented. The voice was speaking about a proclamation made by one of the primes recently. The reporter seemed to be casting doubt on the claims of a prime named Tearen Wover, though wouldn’t go so far as to outright deny their possibility. The Sage’s eyes narrowed. A Doomsayer comes to warn us all, but is ignored. Are you an Oracle or a Charlatan, Wover?

The recorded voice of the silver-haired prime finished his speech, stating his availability in the park for questioning. Convenient… the Sage thought, glancing around. He thought he could see the man himself at another of the benches, conversing with a small girl. He would wait for an appropriate moment, then move to speak with the man. If his message was accurate, this was something that boded grave importance.

[Harry Potter]

CENTRAL HALL, then DOJO

Ron Burgundy was drinking scotch, leaning against a wall, and thinking about death again when Harry Potter wandered by in his black wizard's robes.

"Hey!" the anchorman slurred loudly as Harry passed, startling him.

"Yes, uh," said Harry smoothly as he noticed the camera behind Ron Burgundy. "Hullo then mate."

Rob Burgundy's face puckered in surprise, and then he burst out laughing.

"Hah!" he screamed in Harry's face. "You sound like the Queen of Scotland, HAH!" Ron roared, wiping away tears of laughter. "What, HAH! What's your name?"

Harry seemed only mildly put out. "My name's Harry Potter, I'm here-"

"Ahaha!" the anchorman screams again, yelping hysterically. "There you have it folks, Reginald Poofter! AH haha! Ah!" shouted Ron, doubling over at his own joke.

Harry shrugs as he smiles sardonically. "Oh yeah, I get it, you're having a go at me? You look like you're in a barber shop quartet called 'white noise'."

Ron Burgundy choked into his scotch. "What the-well, you look like John Lennon in a batman costume."

Harry shrugs. "You look like a serial killer pretending to be a bible salesman."

Ron Turns red. "You sound like one of Liberace's farts!"

Harry grinned. "Your hair looks like-"

***

DOJO/GYM

Harry Potter sat on a bench in the training room at the dojo, taping up his broken nose.

"Reparo," he mutters, and his broken glasses snap back together.

As far as first impressions go, Harry thought getting knocked out by Ron Burgundy on live TV (or as Ron called it, getting a little 'San Diego Thank You') didn't bode well for his chances of getting sponsors.

Harry Potter walked out of the changing room and into the dojo, his bright green eyes scanning the room nervouslly behind his glasses. The young wizard had left this robes behind, choosing a pair of comfortable trainers, basketball shorts, and a grey undershirt. He took note of the other competitors as he stretched, never having seen so many primes in one place before.

They seemed freindly, nice even. They talked casually as they honed their skills, joking amongst each other, and talking about the competition. It reminded Harry of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he smiled a little. Then he bagan to train.

He ran on a treadmill. He did squats. He hit the bench press. He got back on the treadmill. Then he started boxing.

Harry chose a futuristic looking heavybag to practice on. He wrapped his hands just a bit, but he did not bring boxing gloves; he wasn't trained with them. Harry began to work the bag, slowly at first, then picking up steam. His stance was awkward, his feet too close together, but his strikes were consistent, well aimed, and powerfull.

The scrawny prime seemed to rock the bag every time he connected. Sweat start to pour into his eyes, but Harry pressed on. As he lost himself in the rythem of the punching, his hands began to glow a soft red color, and the crack of his fist against the bag bagan to echo more loudly.

[Simon]

Tony pretended to nod and understand, even though Jak's presumption of Dante knowing much about his past was blatantly false. The guy only ever spoke about history in hushed tones and cryptic explanations. The devil hunter could not remember a time where the Eco warrior had ever truly opened up and explained everything in a coherent sense. It would be understandable if Jak was ashamed about what he did and didn't want to share it, but the experience made Dante just want to grab a hold of the knife-eared guy and shake the full story out of him.

Why don't you get rid of him while you're at it? You don't need someone that unstable bogging you down-

The plagued son of Sparda immediately diverted his thoughts, throwing polite attention out the window and focusing on what he came here to do. Omnilium began to coalesce between his fingers again in that familiar summoning process. By the time the aquamarine alien stepped off her perch and agreed to a team formation, Tony's ensuing glob of chromatic matter began to take a shape.

Jak noticed this, and relented from saying anything for the moment, lest he interrupt his friend's work. After a couple more minutes of observation, the item took shape, and the Eco warrior beheld it with a certain awe. It could only be a rocket launcher, the huge tube of the weapon concealing a payload of something powerful. There was a certain nostalgia that Mar found from the sight of the heavy explosive taking form, and he found himself wanting for a similar device he had grown oddly fond of...

"Sorry about that," Tony opened his eyes and apologized, just to be sure. He patted the sleek gunmetal of the launcher, fingers trailing over the inscription that christened the weapon as Kalina Ann. Dante normally would not borrow a signature tool like this without permission, but Tony figured that an exception could be made if he just created one of his own. "I wanted to get this cranked out before the show an all."

"No, no, it's fine," the Eco warrior dismissed his friend's concerns, inspiration gleaming in his eyes. The devil hunter couldn't help but smirk for the tiniest moment, noting he had hit a positive chord with the Dynamite Kid.

Setting the boom tube to lean on the armchair, Tony immersed himself in the waking world again. "So what's the deal? We're all buddies, now?" He asked with his tell-tale smoothness, an inoffensive casual tone, "We'd better pass names around before we go any further. I'm Tony Redgrave." The red-coat held two fingers to his temple and then flicked outward, in what could only be an off-brand salute.

[Gamzee Makara]

Hallway -> Library

Gamzee still hadn't really gotten used to taking these weird ass portal gate thingies. He still felt all weird and woozy whenever he went through one, and this Syntech shit was no different. Gazing down the long, immaculate hallway, the juggalo kinda felt like he was in a hospital of some sort. He walked down it cautiously, reading signs by doorways, until he found what he was looking for.

"Yo, Straz, I gotta check something on the Dataverse real quick. Meetcha before the game starts, yeah?"

-----

Library

Gamzee hums a little tune. Quietly mind you, as he certainly didn't wanna bother anyone in a place of thought and such as this.

*SMACK*

The clumsy fool, so lost in thought that he is, walks right into a small rotating stand of comic books and graphic novels. He trips over his own feet and the stand and lands atop a pile of nerd literature. Ow, Is the first thing that comes to mind, followed by him scrambling to his feet. The Syntech employee at the counter shoots him a withering glare, as if to say "your mess, not mine". That guy is not having any of Gamzee's shit.

After the bard is finished tidying up the nerd rack, he wanders around for a bit before finding a computer. He's not very good with these things truth be told, and on his internet journey to create an email account, he accidentally winds up on a site hawking special items to be used for battles and such. Gamzee may or may not have accidentally spent a shit ton of omnilium on random junk that he won't actually need. He mainly just liked how shiny it all looked. At any rate, with that out of the way, he had to finish this email thing so he could contact Mistress Guu.

[Tearen Wover]

"I'm glad to have you on my side, Malon. Here, let's exchange Communication information." Tearen said, holding out an upturned palm. Malon tilted her head back slightly as a small green mote of energy began to swirl over his hand before resolving into a list of identity data. Malon held out her own comms device, and the gleaming hologram seemed to jump into her communicator. Satisfied, Tearen withdrew his hand before casting a sharp look at a Prime who was lingering at the threshold of Malon and his personal space. It was easy for Tearen to ignore most of the ambient psychic buzz in a public space, but when someone was specifically focusing on him, it was the equivalent of a fireworks display.

Speaking of which, thunderous blossoms of color began to bloom in the sky, much to the cooing and cheering of the Abyss spectators who were just finishing dinner. Splashes of blue and red flooded across a hundred faces, gilding the foliage of the trees in every color in the spectrum. The time was approaching, and there was still something Tearen wanted to do, but first, he had to plant an idea in Malon's head.

"You know, Malon, despite being binding in many ways, Syntech cannot force you to compete. If you truly fear this competition, then you should leave." Tearen said, standing up and casting a narrow, coy stare down at the girl. She blushed slightly and stammered.

"I...I didn't know that, so-"

"But I think..." Tearen interjected, "...you actually want to. If that's the case, I swear I will ensure your life with mine." the elder Prime said, clutching a fist over his heart.

"Count on it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some loose ends to tie up". the eldritch human hummed, turning on a polished heel. Malon nodded absent-mindedly and went back to her preparations. The Shadow waves to The Sage as he approached, startling the bookish Prime, but only to a minor degree. What was slightly more unnerving was how Tearen greeted him.

"The Humble Sage, pleased to make your acquaintance." the ex-enigma gushed, shaking the Sage's hand enthusiastically. Reynold nodded slowly, choosing not to question Tearen's basic knowledge of his identity. The Sage had, after all, filled out that daft registration; it stood to reason that his information would have circulated in some fashion at this point.

"Indeed, Master Wover. I heard your warning of the Underverse." Sage said in a grave tone. Tearen nodded solemnly.

"Ah, good. I was beginning to fear that would be a footnote. The ferocity of a proclammation cannot be considered when falling on deaf ears. I was presumptuous." the elder Prime said with a note of embarassment. The Sage found himself being ushered back towards the main hallway, where there had been some kind of commotion recently. Tearen noted that it had been centered around Gildarts, to his complete lack of surprise. What was more surprising was the person Gildarts was (attempting) to talk to.

"Illidan Stormrage..." Tearen muttered, after consulting the contestant ledger in his mental computer.

"The Scourge of Darkshire? I heard the stories; how is he here?" The Sage breathed.

"I believe that question could be extended to all of us." Tearen said, straightening his tie. It had been his intention to get Gildarts' attention before the competition began, but Illidan's presence made this prospect tenuous.

Well.

He would at least try.

"Walk with me?" Tearen asked of the Sage, striding steadily towards the Strongest Prime. Reynold complied, but was undeterred from his original inquiry.

"You said you had emerged from the Underverse, and that Diablo was at out doorsteps?" the Sage asked, trying to read Tearen's expression. The elder Prime had adopted a faraway look on his face.

"Approximately, yes. There is so much to that story, and our time is short at the moment. Seek me out in the Abyss, and I will tell you everything." Tearen said in a hurried tone. Once again, he conjured a physical manifestation of his contact information and casually tossed it at the Sage. Continuing his brisk stride, the ex-enigma triggered his transition back to his black-glass body. Green eyes flared, and flowing brown robes wove themselves aroud his body from coalescing black mist.

In the next moment, Tearen had crossed the threshold into the hallway proper, and the golden, garish lighting of the marbled palace reflected off of his smooth face in undulating strips. The Shadow could see a miasma of pain swirling around the Strongest Prime's head, a mental cloud so thick and heavy that it was a wonder Clive was connected to this reality at all. There was also something...more. A gratuity of violent underthoughts that seemed to grip and nip at the wizard's head. It was the same malevolent presence Tearen had felt at death mountain.

The Shadow had originally been planning to approach Gildarts in the interest of forming a truce, if not a partnership, but now he genuinely feared for the integrity of the Strongest Prime's mind.

"Gildarts Clive! It's me, Nealaphh, from Death Mountain and Nippur." the Shadow shouted over the crowd. The wizard and Illidan turned slowly to regard the latest intrusion on their silent contest, and the latter was certainly unhappy about it.

Well, he could butt the hell out. Tearen needed a minute with the wizard.

[Strazio Rockwell]

DOJO

Queasy was how the Syntech teleporter left Strazio. His stomache performed a series of acrobatics that drained what color was left from his pale face. He ran a hand over his belly, feeling the relatively fresh stitches. Gamzee materialized behind him and, after saying something that he didn’t quite hear, took off. Strazio glanced around, his head swimming with a chaotic jumble of thoughts. The place was loud. His gut hurt. The mage hurried through the facility and made his way to a restroom where he spent the next few minutes horking up what little food was left in his stomach. After his offering to the Gods of Indigestion he felt better, not a whole lot better, but he did feel better. He wiped a bit of blood from his mouth.

“Fuck,” he muttered and stood up.

As the mage wandered throughout the facility he kept to himself, only offering a nod to those that caught his eye. He made his way to the dojo, stomachache or not he had a new weapon to practise with. A rifle, Demetri’s rifle, hung from his shoulder. It was a Russian piece, specifically a VSS Vintorez, designed for use in sensitive missions where stealth was paramount. Not that Strazio knew this, up until his journey into the Omniverse he had yet to experience a firearm and they were still quite foreign to the spellcaster. He had seen Demetri fire it before, it was simple really, point the loud end at the enemy and pull the trigger. Strazio held the rifle in one hand, arm extended, and aimed it at a target.

*click*

Nothing happened. No bang, no flash, no damage. He pulled the trigger a few more times and then pulled the rifle back.

“Come on now,” he said.

Maybe something was plugging the barrel? A quick peek down the barrel revealed nothing except a glimpse into Strazio’s naivety. He sat down and fiddled with the various mechanisms on the strange weapon. Scar-covered hands, unfit for delicate work pawed at the weapon trying to find an “on” switch. Stomach pains mixed with ignorance brewed a cocktail of frustration that crescendoed into a lit fuse. White sparkles of energy danced across his flesh, an unintended side effect of his magick. The fizzling fireflies nipped at the rifle covering it with char marks. Eureka, a revelation struck the mage. Taking a few measured breaths he began to pour energy into the weapon, filling it was destructive magick. Once he was satisfied he took aim and fired.

*BANG*

A white lance of destruction tore forth from the barrel, crackling through the air towards the target dummy. Tremendous force crashed against the plastic humanoid, carving a fist-sized hole through the thing’s chest. All that remained was a half-melted dummy and an awestruck Strazio. He glanced at the tool of destruction in his hand and smiled.

“Alright then,” he said, “not quite how Demetri used it, but I’m sure he’d appreciate my twist on things.”

[Gamzee Makara]

Library -> Hallway

Hm. Well now that thats out of the way, he should probably try to find Strawso. He pushes away from the desk in the loudest manner possible, causing some heads to turn. He ignored them for the most part. The stoner wished he had time to make friends but he had some shit he had to do before the show started, and he was simply not going to get distracted like he usually doe-

Wow the main hallway is motherfucking crowded, bro. And also pretty deadly looking, come to think of it. Some of those dudes look ready to pop off on someone. Let's just uh, kinna circum ventilate this situation here. Nope, not touching that, not one bit. Mmmm nope.

Gamzee hears a sound that sounds suspiciously like a explodey sound he recognizes off in a room to his general left or right or somewhere around here. He hesitates before stepping into the dojo.

-----

Hallway -> Dojo

"Ey man, we don't got too long before the shitshow begins. Is training all you do, broski?" Gamzee asks, nonchalantly stepping into the fancy shmancy dojo.

"I wasn't training, really. Just making sure my gear was ready for what lies ahead. You should do the same, actually. I know Valerie taught you some magick. Let's see it."

"Uh...yeah sure man. You got it."

Gamzee sidles up beside his magicks mentor, and begins to run over what Valerie taught him in his mind's eye, or whatever the fuck it was that planty motherfucker was talking about. He runs his finger tips over the scarred bark in his pocket, trying to feel it out, and then holds his arms out by his waist, palms splayed and upwards. His breathing slows, and vibrant rainbow smoke begins to curl its way up his legs, down his arms and coil into his hands. Soon, there is a pulsing orb of colored smoke in each of his hands, heavy vapor cascading through his fingers and twirling down to the hardwood floor in an almost ballerina like fashion. He exhales, causing more of the smoke to erupt in a grand fashion out of his mouth and nose. Brilliant shades of every hue imaginable, constantly swirling and changing as it plumes over his sharp carnivorous teeth.

He looked like a motherfuckin' dragon.

Almost abruptly, Gamzee slings both smoke bombs at separate training dummies. The twin grenades hit the floor at almost the same exact time, promptly causing a beautiful flower of rainbow coloured smoke to bloom where the dummies were standing. The flowers are ridiculous and grandoise, almost seemingly living creatures as they writhe and pulse.

"Hoo. That's kinda difficult, still," He moans, stretching his back a little before turning to his friend. "Mister Valerie said it'd be a minute afore I could all up and summon the shit without a second thought. But uh...Whatcha think?"

"Well," Strazio begins, observing the flowers. "What exactly does it do, Gamzee? Those targets aren't really being affected."

"Naw, see we was worried about that at first too. Why dontcha go up there and touch the smoke? Don't stand in it or nothing, just touch some of it."

Strazio eyes his apprentice warily, before walking up to one of the flowers and thrusting his arm into smoke. He immediately regrets this decision, as his arm feels like its filled with fucking lead, stones, sand, and pretty much every other heavy object that comes to mind. He pulls out of the smoke and practically limps over to Gamzee. A few moments later, it feels like nothing even happened.

"The fuck was that shit? That's your magic?"

"Yeah..." Gamzee says, trailing off sheepishly.

"That's fucking dope. Congratulations man. I can't wait to see how it develops when we train next."

[Dawnika Snow]

The dark haired man extended his hand towards her, with his gift in hand. A pair of chopsticks painted black. It was simple and pretty cool, she thought, but she didn't want anyone to think she was going soft. Nevertheless, Dust's unique kindness and understanding was reaching out to a soul crying out to be saved under a steel tomb. It was the same feeling she had felt when she first met Rogue, and one she hand not felt more times than she could count on her hand. She took the chop sticks from Dust and to both of the men's surprise, was able to use them quite easily.

After she had finished the plate of food she had stolen from her new friend, Shinmen discussed the pairs truce in the competition, offering the assassin a spot in that truce and explaining the rules.

"I am a mercenary. I get paid to kill people, but I see that the circumstances in this event leave me without much of an option. I will need at least some allies if I wish to make some good payout. If you will allow me, I will gladly join this alliance. I'm a tactical assassin, guns and scouting are my forte." She explained. "I should be able to find you two easily in the field so don't try so hard to look for me, I'll find you. I swear my guns will not train on you until you are my only enemies remaining." She said with her fist to her heart as a sort of swearing gesture. "May luck always shine her grace on you both."

[Malon]

The Park => Central Hallway

Eavesdropping was something that was at best frowned upon by most, and Hyrule was no exception. That was why Malon made no secret of that she listened to the conversation between Tearen and the man that her new ally addressed as the "Humble Sage", and treated like a long-time acquaintance or friend. She looked at them both, though neither noticed - or if they did, they didn't care.

There was no doubt left in her mind that Tearen was someone with far more time in this world than her. Years, maybe decades? And the Humble Sage was speaking to him like to a high-standing or important individual, a leader figure. And what did they speak about? The Underverse? A warning? She stood up and followed them while simultaneously attaching the leather bag to her belt. Her curiosity was roused, and she'd learned to trust her instinct with bad feelings. The way that the other man had pronounced "Underverse" sounded like he was speaking of some terrible place, though at face value sounded like a sort of underground cave network. What could be so big that Tearen had taken it upon himself to warn them all about it?

As they entered the hallway and began speaking of other individuals Malon observed from the park area, always staying at least five steps behind them. "Illidan Stormrage"... another name to remember. From the way Tearen's head was turned she presumed it to be the purple-skinned being that was talking to a tall man with an arm made of metal. For a moment he glanced her way, or maybe it was just her imagination? A shudder went through her body. She felt even more out of place than before, realizing that the roster of participants for whatever event she had stumbled into was far more... diverse than she had thought. This place was nothing like Hyrule after all. After her meeting with Anderson and the vampire she had suspected it already, but then she had met the Silverhand bandits which were all humans. And now this? It looked like figures of all kinds of fairy-tales had sprung from their books and were gathering in one place.

Then Tearen changed his appearance completely and Malon nearly stumbled backwards with surprise, before catching herself and returning to the corner where the door between the central hallway and the park linked the two areas together. The dynamics that went on between the contestants, between Tearen and the Sage, between the middle-aged man that she had noted earlier and Tearen who was approaching him, reminded her how little she knew about this world. Her friend seemed to know everyone around here! He had information and even names on a number of the participants it would seem, and the way he confidently approached them all was confirming her belief that he was someone with experience in this world.

You've hit the jackpot, haven't you? Assassin asked smugly. You were approached by the best possible person and they offered you an alliance. And to top it off he's a shapeshifter, it would seem.

A shapeshifter? Could it be that he was a Skinwalker like herself?

That's unlikely. I cannot sense the magic in him that I surrounded myself with when changing my looks. Besides, there's other types of shapeshifters than Skinwalkers. He might've used a catalyst, also. With his back turned to us we couldn't see what he was doing.

You stood right next to him when he did it though. Couldn't you see if he did anything with his hands?

How many times do I need to remind you? I'm not real. I'm just a manifestation of memories of a past incarnation of you. This body you're looking at is just your mind's way of dealing with it. These eyes can't see anything that you can't see with your own pair.

Malon's head was spinning and she had to lean against a wall even though that meant that she could not follow the ongoings for a while. Well yes, Assassin was right, she SHOULD know. But for someone who had only been a simple farmer girl until a handful of weeks back, whose biggest goal was to escape an abusive stable-hand and who barely knew about magic beyond that it existed in the world, two or three days to adjust to the thought that there were multiple Malons, each with their own memories and history, all inside her head, manifesting as illusions around her and influencing her... well, it was a lot. She was trying to deal with it by separating the other Malons from herself by picturing them as their own personalities, but when Assassin-Malon brought up that they were actually one and the same person it reminded her that this view was wrong.

Assassin sighed and vanished, leaving her to her own thoughts for a while as Malon took heavy breaths and pushed the thoughts back into a corner of her mind for now. She could not spend more time thinking about... that subject right now. Other, more important things were going on in the corridor, around Tearen and the other people, and she wanted to know what it was. If she let this opportunity slip by, she had a feeling that she may never have it again.

[Dust]

Dust let out a light chuckle as his friend called the basic use of OM 'sorcery' and funnily enough he could understand why the man would think that. If he knew anything about the guy, it was that he was old school, factually he was sure the swordsman was not just a kid that had too much love for a katana but someone from Japan's past. Based on his attitude, his dialect, and his voiced opinion about the honor system he and the younger man had. As Dawn took the chopsticks, Dust looked at Takezo to explain what it was, but found him distracted by the now empty table the mock fighters had been sitting. He thought about bringing up the idea that they might be out making outfits that matched one another, but was interrupted by the older fighter inviting Dawn to join them in the same honor pact they had made. Strangely enough, the wolf inside him felt comforted by the idea of having two allies on the battle-field; as if his beastly nature was calmed by the idea of a temporary pack that he might work great with. It was strange, because he never saw himself as the lone wolf type, and only now was he able to voice that exact idea and other's. Like how lonely he suddenly felt from the past.

He did not think much of Dawn expertly handling the two pieces of wood he'd made up, he would not have picked the exotic utensils if he thought she couldn't handle it, of course that implies he thought very highly of her ability to eat with things she has not expressed a knowledge of having. Inside he was more than a little excited about the idea of Dawn joining up with them as she agreed to the alliance; if only because it meant it wouldn't be the last time he'd see her. It didn't hurt at all to have a pretty girl around when you had to deal with the kind of things he did, it would be a nice change of pace from thick mustached old men who smoked too much and each cigarette embedded in the roots of their cavity infested teeth. In addition to the news that brought a phantom feeling of his tail wagging like a dog being told he could go along for a ride, she explained she was a mercenary; that she got paid to kill people without mercy. He guessed that was where the nickname came from.

She then assured them that she was of just the exact skill Takezo was talking about, taking an oath of her own promising that she would not take aim at them until it was the only option; which brought back the realization that eventually they would fight one another, but this did not seem to bother the half naked man one bit. As a scout and a master of finding targets that she barely knew anything about. He was considering a multiple of things at that moment, mostly of how to explain what skills he brought to the table, and how he could find them. That's when it happened.

It smacked him right in the back of the skull; if fear could be weaponized; if despair was as real as a blunt object and the wielder had cracked it onto Dust's head and the hollow thunk could grip his heart for a moment, this is what it would feel like. And to the contractor who had once known what panic was, it was like a crash course straight to the nervous system. He was on his feet before he knew it, the man that stood dwarfed most of the figures he'd been so friendly to in the past few hours standing at 6'8"; despite the emotions forced onto him, Ookami was the type to stand before fear and fight it. But he found nothing in his sights but the door way.

Without warning the man dashed for the door, like a wolf who could smell blood he bolted for whatever it was, his bare feet slapping the ground.


THE BAR > HALLWAY


Dust ran past figures in the halls like they were trees standing in a snow covered forest, focused and curious he flew through main hallway towards where he himself had been transported to after signing up for the game he was set to play. He could hear a combination of his heart beat and the break in the wind as he passed the many people who have stopped in their tracks by the same force he'd sensed through the door way. In mere moments he was at the edge of the thinly formed crowd, people all gathered to see what was to become of someone so foolish to challenge The Strongest Prime. As he stood there, his very fit and very bare chest expanding from the light but excited burst of movement from his standing still position. His grey eyes honed in on the squid creature from earlier on the floor, butt pressed the the floor and her body shivering like it was made of jello, panic in her ears and in her voice as she tried to fix whatever mistake she had made to bring on the wrath of this individual. Or the two.

As Hokori's eyes dart up he saw two figures. They stood across from each other, each standing taller than the actually were; Dust quickly noted the one glaring daggers at Abyss was about as tall as him and the other a whole head above him. They carried around them an air of superiority and power, enough that turned the contents of his stomach into knots. Dust's eyes had been soothing and friendly, but have changed to reflect his curious nature of the situation, only to harden as he set eyes on the two before him. As Abyss stumbled to her feet and ran off with her tail between her legs, Dust was no longer concerned with her at all. He locked his eyes on the dark elf figure and the man with the metalic arm. He took in the smirking elf first, as he seemed far more focused on the auburn haired human. While they both appeared aware of their power, the dark skinned elf seemed to be satisfied with himself. While the one who scared off Calimari had an intense hardness to his air. They both screamed 'Alpha' to him, but he watched them all the same. Sure, they were full of confidence and experience, and made Abyss squirm as much as Takezo did, but even as the whispers began to echo through out the hall of the two, he grinned.

[Jak Mar]

Jak said “Alright, I’ll give you the full story, Dante. Both of you. My life kind of sucks in a way, however. I was a kid with no parents wondering around Haven City, and the Baron wanted to kill all the children looking for me, my father was the leader of… Haven City a long time ago, and the Baron threw him out to rot in the Wastelands..

I never knew what happened to my mother over time..

So I wondered Haven city alone, until a guy named “the shadow” picked me up and raised me with a old man named Kor. I lived in a rebel base named the Underground where they wanted me back on the throne, and I didn’t really want to go back on the throne.

“Yes, I was a prince apparently’

The shadow took me back into time and let me stay in Sandover City until age 14, which was one of the better days of my life.

I met Keira, Daxter and her dad there. But we just had to mess with foreign tech and this happened.

My life was messed up.

I got dragged to prison thanks to the bastard Baron Praxis and Erol, I’m not blaming Erol on this but Praxis … it was his fault.

He messed me up.

I decided that I was going to rip him a new one.

That’s when I started to go downhill.

I started losing my faith in everyone and doing the one thing I’d never do, join the bad guys and get involved in something I shouldn’t of.

I worked for Krew, the mob boss in Haven City. He had connections with the underground along with Torn. Everyone i would make friends with, gave me more connections to the Baron and my goal of ripping him a new one. Turns out my friends wanted that as well.

Once finding out the Baron was selling shit to Kor in the first place, I had to fight Erol, Baron and Kor at once.

Sure it was a happy ending but then after everything we do to save the damn Haven City, the people throw us out to rot in the Wastelands to die.

At least the wastelands had something worth saving for once.

And now here I am.

Praxis gave me my dark side and I got my light side from the gods of my world.

Jak almost ripped a book in half by the time he was done explaining everything.

“My name is Jak, but my real name is Mar, you guys?”

[The Future Warrior]

Graowr just watched silently, at Dante's work to summon a new weapon. Her eyes were wide, staring unblinkingly. Now that was cool. Summoning stuff with Omnilium was one thing, but watching someone else do it was just... It was awesome. It was so colorful, and the way it worked was always a little different, from person to person. The basics of it were always the same, a lot of color and the shimmering rainbow globs of omnilium eventually giving way to the item, but... Well, the exact way was always something special. A subtle little twist, from each person.

When the weapon was formed, she just nodded slowly, looking it up and down. That was...that was a heck of a thing. Some kind of big...missile launcher thing, maybe? She'd never really been one for weapons, as far as things really went, but looking at the big thing that had just been summoned... She had an idea why some people did. Maybe she should look into some kind of weapon or something...

Later.

At the introduction, she gave a soft 'oh!' and hopped up from her seat, looking from the now-named Tony Redgrave to the other man, with the long ears, as he launched into telling more details of his story. And for her part, the majin stared, listening with clear, unwavering attention. "That sounds like..." she started, speaking slowly. "...a really cool story! It's awful you had to go through it and all, but look at what you did! You saved some people. That's always good." She nodded, as if the simple idea was enough for her.

"Now, let's see here... I used to be just a kid who was obsessed with heroes and always wanted to be one, just like the guys from hundreds of years ago that had always saved the world and everything! I never really got a chance, until someone made a wish from the Eternal Dragon and I wound up part of the Time Patrol! It was kind of a shock at first, but when I found out what was going on, and that I'd been picked out of everyone that could have been picked to help save all of time, I knew it was going to be great." She had clenched both hands into fists now, in excitement, recalling her past adventures. "Some guy named Demigra was trying to change history. Using dark magic to make the bad guys in the past stronger, or make the good guys stronger but change them, make them mean and evil. Make it so that people who weren't supposed to get beaten would be, or that the wrong person would win a fight and change things."

"He was trying to use the energy he gained from all that to break out of his prison, in the Crack of Time. We tried to stop him, but he managed to get out anyway..." She looked briefly disappointed, looking down. "...but it's okay! In the end we managed to stop him! He kept getting stronger, and almost turned into a god or something. But I managed to beat him! It took everything I had, and the help from a lot of people, but I managed it." She grins, looking equal parts happy and proud of her accomplishment. "After that, I got to train with a lot of other really strong guys! Like the God of Destruction, and his master! I helped train new members of the Time Patrol, so they could keep watch over any other changes to the time stream. It was a pretty important job."

She folds her arms over her chest, looking down. And in a rare turn of events, actually looking...kind of troubled, and serious. "But now I'm here. I don't know what's going on back home now, or if I'll be needed to help..." She fidgets slightly, shifting uncomfortably. "...but I guess I did train people just in case of something like this! Just in case I wasn't around!" She brightens up again, just that quickly. "Anyway! My name's Graowr!" She holds up a hand, with a thumbs-up. "Nice to meetcha both!"