Zone D -- The Foam

[The Future Warrior]

"I think we should be getting close by now," Isaac finally spoke up again after a while of pushing forward, struggling to keep up with the energetic pace of his smaller, bluer ally. "Maybe we should stop for a second and check the map?"

"We can look at that map and keep going!" came the response. It wasn't malicious, the upbeat tone gave that away. "Don't wanna get stuck checking the map and let someone else beat us to it or something."

"Yeah, I guess...but come on, just for a second? I kind of...need to breathe, remember?" To punctuate his statement, the spaceman stopped trying to hide his labored breathing from lugging himself along after the bounding blue demon. "Kinda could use a quick breather."

"Oh!" Graowr came to an abrupt halt, looking back at him. "Sorry! I forgot. Kind of used to working alone, or meeting people where I'm going. I guess my pace can be kind of rough." She let out a sheepish chuckle, letting an uneasy smile spread over her face, even if her expression remained more or less the same. "You can take a rest real quick. Check the map and stuff, I'll go have a look around and see if there's anything neat close by!" Before there was any time for debate, she had disappeared, dashing off in a blur of blue and black.

"This girl is gonna be the death of me..." Isaac mumbled, letting out a sigh. But he just shook his head, plodding along to find an upraised hunk of earth to sit on and catch his breath. The tablet was in his hands from his knapsack after a few moments to calm his breathing, and he pulled up the map.

Graowr came back jus in time to see him nodding to himself and putting it away again. "Should be just up ahead, actually. We're on the right track."

"Yeah! Let's go!" Her energy was infectious, and Isaac hopped up (as much as he could hop at all, in his heavy RIG) and dusted himself off, ready to go.

And they were off, running to where the map had shown the item drop would be landing.

Graowr and Isaac Clarke: Awaiting item drop in D2 to hunt it when it drops

[Lord Zedd]

Mad Bull’s fists collided with Zedd’s back and plunged the skinless warrior back into the ocean. Zedd slammed his hands into the sand and pushed back up at the moment of impact, knowing that the gigantic man would take that same opportunity to keep him submerged if he allowed it. Zedd did not bother with any intimidating mannerisms as he burst from the water. There was no calm and collected rise like before, only abject fury.

With a roar of unbridled rage, Zedd swung his fist upwards and delivered an uppercut to Sergeant Estes’ chin. The officer jerked his head back and felt the whiplash from the blow, and was left defenseless for the next attack. Zedd didn’t dawdle, and landed a strong punch on Mad Bull’s gut, causing him to hunch over from the power of it. The onslaught continued, and Zedd slammed his elbow into the exposed back of the sergeant’s neck, hoping that this would be a definitive end to the battle.

Zedd wouldn’t be so lucky. The enormous officer was back on his feet in no time, unleashing his own flurry of fists. Zedd was more than happy to engage the hairy monstrosity. As the water swept across the two tank-like primes, they traded blow after blow, each unleashing powerful punches one after another. The spray of the saltwater burned Estes’ eyes and fogged Zedd’s visor, but neither prime knew how to quit. Even while blinded, they continued to pelt each other with high power punches in the midst of the rough seas.

Mad Bull ended the brawl by grabbing the long shaft that extended from the top of Zedd’s visor. He stepped sideways and used that to hurl Zedd by his face, hoping to buy some valuable time. Zedd splashed down, this time allowing himself to disappear beneath the surface momentarily. The riptide hadn’t been too bad, despite the horrid conditions, so they hadn’t moved much. Zedd was more than pleased to recover his discarded staff that was now right before him.

Mad Bull’s notions of a clean, fair fight vanished as Zedd’s upper body emerged from the sea and fired lightning bolt from the staff. Mad Bull leaped aside as the lightning sailed into the distance, but Zedd could only laugh maniacally as he waded through the chest deep water.

“I thought we would have a fair fight!” Mad Bull shouted to Zedd as he quickly tried to make a new strategy.

“Tell me why I would owe you that!” Lord Zedd bellowed as he struggled to march forward.

“I thought you might enjoy something a little more honorable!” Mad Bull taunted Zedd, trying to tug at his most basic instincts. Still, he felt a way out of this, just barely touching his right foot.

“No, I would not.” Zedd shook his head, holding his staff high above his head. Electricity jumped all around the Z at the top of the weapon, while Zedd prepared his finishing blow. “Goodbye, strange human. I am pleased you do not wear the spandex my typical adversaries prefer.”

Zedd touched the lightning charged staff to the water between them, only to see the energy fizz out. It was a far shout from the area encompassing electrocution he had expected, and his body language showcased his disappointment. Fucking Omniphysics, overwriting normal physics again. He had a lot to learn about this land, still.

Mad Bull scooped down beneath the water and grabbed his baton, then charged at Zedd in one motion. Zedd braced himself, and swung at the police officer as he closed in. The officer swung his baton and the two weapons clanged against each other. Both warriors were stunned when the harsh vibrations ran up their arms, but Zedd was fast to recover. He struck Estes across the face with the other end of his staff, then jammed the gigantic Z on the end into the man’s throat.

Estes recoiled backwards in pain, then threw a wild strike with his baton as Zedd tried to close the gap. Zedd roared in agony when the baton connected with his forearm, but he he brought his much larger staff down on Estes’ skull in retaliation. Zedd was shocked to see that yet another mighty attack wouldn’t put down the beast of a man.

Both of them were showing their fatigue, as their calculated strikes had long since given way to rage induced flailing. It devolved into the same state of affairs as before, only this time they were armed with blunt weapons. They exchanged attack after attack with the waves pelted against them. The tide would have swallowed any other men alive, but neither would accept such a fate before earning a their victory.

800 words on the dot, again.

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
Lord Zedd vs Mad Bull

A standard parry went awry, and there were two splashes as the pair of men saw their items sink down to the bottom of the shallow ocean.

Without skipping a beat, Sergeant John Estes ‘charged’ forward through the ocean water.  A blade swung for his face, but he closed a meaty fist around the red wrist and threw himself at Zedd.  The two adversaries vanished below the surface, but even underwater, their various appendages attempted to find purchase on the other.  Audiences stared blankly at their screens at the frothy chaos as they awaited what would happen when the two emerged—if they both escaped their erratic, underwater fracas.

After half a minute of aquatic tussling, the two men shot up out of the water a few yards removed from one another.

“You are finished, whale human.”  Zedd snickered as he lifted his hands up out of water to reveal the Z Staff clenched tightly in his fists.  Energy started to crackle along the length of the weapon, but before Zedd brought its might to bear on the insolent human, he saw something that caused his blood to boil more than it already had.

Four yards away, Mad Bull had thrown his head back and seemed lost in a bout of throaty, full-body laughter.

The fat man.

The sweaty, red-faced fat man.

Laughing.

“Shut your insolent hole,” Zedd boomed, prompting the sergeant to stop on a dime and stare at his adversary with a look that still had entirely too much mirth plastered across it.

“You surf?”  Mad Bull asked as he pointed behind Zedd.

The dark lord glanced over his shoulder and saw a fifty-foot wave about to consume them both.  Seemingly indifferent to the approaching natural disaster, Zedd turned back to the policeman.  “You think I fear the ocean?  I am Lord—”

Both combatants vanished as they were swept up in the massive wall of salt water.

***

When he regained consciousness after being bashed against the beach by the tidal wave, Mad Bull wiped the brine from his face and noticed a small purple container half-buried in the sand.

Elsewhere, Lord Zedd regained consciousness and was left to stew in his rage.

[spoiler]
Madbull gets the item drop.  This fight was stupidly close, and I hate you both for making me pick.  You should just agree to call it a draw and be best friends.  F**k you guys.

Zedd takes 5 points of Accumulated Damage (bumps, bruises, etc)
Madbull takes 3 points of Accumulated Damage (bumps, bruises, etc)

Madbull gets Main Quest Item #1 – It is … a capsule, like the ones from Capsule Corp (Karl’s from a fucked up DBZ land).  If you have a chance, you can open it to reveal that it’s a computer tower.  It won’t turn on, though.
[/spoiler]

[Deadpool]

The ripe heat of the afternoon had mellowed as the sun danced over the eastern mountaintops; clouds chased it, transforming the humidity into a light rain, and casting it over the floodplain. Deadpool thought of #saltbae hovering somewhere in the clouds, rolling droplets down his forearm.

”Rain drop, drop top, making my way to the item drop; give your favorite character a head knot,” the mercenary sang as he emerged from the safehouse.

He reentered the water and began to make his way towards the item drop. He had wrapped the strings of his backpack around his neck to prevent it from being soaked again; the tablet had turned on before while drenched, but it wasn't something he wanted to gamble a second time.

The marshlands had become harder to maneuver in as the day concluded; not because it resisted him any more than before, but because the temperature had dipped. It felt like the water was violating him—one hand tickling his scrotum while the other pinched the head of his penis.

”My money maker is totally going Antman right now. I hope I still have an impressive bulge by the time I get back to solid ground—that's what the viewers really care about.” Deadpool looked up at the sky and winked. ”Right, audience?”

A drone hummed through the sky, glossed in a layer of moisture. The lens on its belly narrowed in on the mercenary, then expanded.

”What's wrong, readers? Thought I was talking about you guys? I don't always break the fourth wall,” he quipped.

Then a brilliant idea blinked in his head: ”Speaking of fourth walls, and audiences..

The mercenary dug a hand into his bag, and shuffled it around until he pulled out a cellphone. He opened the Omnitwitter app, and searched for the hastag 'Dante's Abyss'. An assortment of recent tweets filled the screen, accompanied by a few high-profile people associated with it; Karl headed them, wearing a velvet blazer in his avatar that would have made Prince jealous. The second person was 'GodEnel'.

Who the fuck is this guy? Deadpool extorted. ”He's never been in Dante's Abyss. He must be one of Karl's butt-buddies. I'm gonna give this guy a piece of my mind.

He opened the man's profile and went for the first tweet he could troll.

*-*-*-*-*-

[float=left][/float]
Deadpool
Replying to @GodEnel

- LOOK AT MY TITS

[Karl Jak]

End Day 1

Begin Day 2 – Early Morning

[Corporal Light]

He was starting to wonder whether or not keeping his RIG on was that good of an idea or not. For one thing, it was weighing him down more than it did back on the Ishimura, and as a result his experience navigating the rainforest around him was similar to a tank trying to sneak its way through some woodlands without knocking any trees over: difficult and incredibly inefficient. Whereas Graowr had the advantage of more nimble movement unhindered by things such as armor, and thus could zip around, climbing up vines and tree branches to progress forward with energy to spare, he had to resort to stomping around the place, brushing through green foliage and using rocks as makeshift staircases. Certainly wasn’t helpful that his leg was still not doing him any favors, giving him random cramps right through his bones each time he stepped on it.  He had already had to take a breather several times just trying to keep up with the azure-skinned alien’s hyperactive travelling speed, and without the ocean to slow her down he always found himself more than a few paces behind.

Nevertheless, he kept going, trudging through the thick grasses that inhabited the jungle as he followed Graowr to the best of his ability. She was awfully considerate of him, all things considered, as she constantly stopped to show him alternate routes he could more easily navigate. With her high energy and chipper attitude towards his plodding pace, it seemed to him like she was genuinely concerned for him, or at the very least wanted to give him a hand.

Yeah, right…

He couldn’t forget; this was a competition. It wouldn’t take much for her to just run off and leave him in her dust. It wasn’t like there would be much he could do about it either way. Hell, if he was thinking it, then it wasn’t out of the question to believe that she was thinking of doing so as well.

Still, he marched on. As much as he hated it, the girl was the only real ally he had, and the only one he stood any chance of gaining success with. He didn’t know if she felt the same way or not, but it was a risk he had to take. Maybe he was just overthinking the whole thing.

He brushed those thoughts out of his mind. His focus had to be on what lied ahead, and with luck, it would be the item they sought.

The two travelled all throughout the night. Rain drizzled down through the openings within the massive, dark green leaves up above. The sparkling incandescence of the silver moon glowed through the dark clouds covering the black sky. The rain provided a soft, soothing, pitter-pattering beat to accompany the duo’s journey. Birds of various species cawed into the misty air, their cries echoing all throughout the rainforest. The atmosphere smelled distinctly of the fish-smelling sea they had left behind hours earlier. All the while, they said nothing to each other, trapped in their own thoughts, communicating only through the unspoken idea that they would find what they were looking for. And thus, they operated as one.

Morning came in the form of a purplish hue and an orange orb sliding over the horizon. The suffocating vegetation maintained a fair level of darkness within the forest, but at least now the usage of flashlights was no longer a true requirement. A thin amount of dew covered the green foliage they stomped through, and the chirping of the avians had become more frequent and cacophonous. They kept moving despite the emptiness of their stomachs and the aches in their legs, despite the urge to rest and hunker down.

Eventually, they discovered a clearing within the jungle, where golden rays of sunshine shone through onto a field of shortened grass. A few blue flowers stood in the center, blooming, drinking up the sunlight.

Graowr was already running into the field by the time he had broken through the thickets to enter it. It seemed the brighter weather was enhancing her already cheerful attitude. It was even getting to him too. He couldn’t help but smile as she spoke up.

“It should be just nearby! Probably, um…” She pointed towards another part of the field. “Over there!”

Before he could tell her to wait up, she had already dashed off to parts unknown, leaving him alone in the flower field.

He had to admit, she was something else. He wasn’t even going to try to understand her history. Stuff about dark magic and time. It sounded like a bad sci-fi plot, but he had seen her when she had told him about it. Whatever had happened, it had affected her on a level he didn’t understand. It had been just a tiny glimpse before she reverted back to her standard, light-hearted fare.

It seemed like he wasn’t the only one with something they wanted to bury.

For a moment, he considered telling her about Nicole. She was a bit like her. Optimistic, a little bit funny, he could see Nicole in her. Besides, if she was going to tell him about her past, what was stopping him from doing the same?

Red static flickered into his vision. He shut his eyes, flinching, groaning. Symbols appeared in the blackness of his eyelids. He brought a hand to his head as it exploded with pain. He squeezed it with all of his might, counting down from ten. He willed the pain to leave him be, to just make it stop. It subsided as quickly as it had arrived, leaving him a panting mess.

It was just then that he realized he had been standing in the middle of a field for upwards of a few minutes. How he hadn’t been ambushed in that timeframe was beyond him, but he was thankful for it nonetheless.

He turned his head toward where Graowr had rushed off to. “Hey, Graowr! You find the item yet?”

No answer. His eyebrows narrowed, he spoke again.

“Graowr, can you hear me? Did you find it?”

He started to walk. The whole forest had gone quiet.

“Graowr!”

He picked up the pace, his brisk walk turning into a light job. A nauseating sensation filled his gut.

“Graowr, where the fuck are you?!”

He ran into the forest. Not even a peep. She was gone. He couldn’t believe it.

That motherfucker ditched me!

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Gain the trust of the old cripple and use him for help in finding stuff and then start running once you find them, knowing he couldn’t catch up to you? He could at least admire the cleverness, if not the dickishness. And besides, it was a competition. Backstabs were going to inevitable; everyone was seeking out only for themselves.

Still, not even that knowledge of just how right he was made the overwhelming need to break something. Eventually, though, he just walked, stewing his own rage for a later date. She was right; he couldn’t catch up to her.

So, instead, he decided it would be best to move on and find another item. After a quick check on his tablet, he noticed that the section of the island labeled “A1” had an item on it and it had still not been picked up yet. It was a long trek, but if he was lucky, he could make it.

A new destination in mind, he started off, the hurt he had felt with Graowr’s betrayal quickly replaced with a tranquil determination.

Team Space Man (Isaac) --- Moving from D2 to E9

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull sputtered and belched out a salty stream of water from his throat. He rubbed his head in consternation and tried to clear away the daze that still surrounded him after being repeatedly beaten upside the head then spun around fifty times in the raging surf. It was the officer’s first combat encounter with a Prime.  Mad Bull had been on the force for some time, bashing in criminal’s faces, blowing away rapists and drug pushers… but never a Prime.  It was an easy thing to make a show of bravado when the fight wasn’t square; here on this island it’d be nothing but Primes vying against one another. The violent cop couldn’t help feel a sense of trepidation that more difficult battles were yet to come.

The waves had died down; perhaps they had only been spurred on by the brow-beating throw-down between the Sergeant and Lord Zedd in the first place.  He felt sore, but still intact.  The lawman tentatively touched at a purple shiner glazing his cheekbone.

“Yeeouch. That skinless creepo sure knows how to slug it out,” John Estes thought to himself in admiration.

Realizing that licking his wounds wouldn’t get him much of anywhere, the burly cop fished into the nearby waters and found his bindle of supplies and sidearm revolver.  His nightstick was floating along languidly on a wave, and that too was scooped up and shoved back into his waterlogged leather utility belt.  In exhaustion, Mad Bull flicked open the cylinder of his revolver and looked at his ammunition.

“Whatta waste…” he muttered quickly as he tossed aside the spent rounds and the other ruined remains.  Groping into his water-tight supply bag, his took out another six .38 special bullets and methodically loaded them, savoring the habit and almost meditative quantity of this career-long ritual. He let out a sigh, feeling finally whole again with his loaded weapon, and relaxed, trying to melt away some of the pent up exhaustion of the day.

Just staying in place, awaiting interaction with another character.

[Deadpool]

”Sorry in advance for making your day even worse!”

Before the burly man could turn to face him, Deadpool bashed the butt of his pistol into the man's temple. The firearm thudded against his dome, and keeled him over into a bed of water with a splash.

"Godammit, Deadpool,” the mercenary exclaimed, ”you sunk my battleship!”

He threw his hands on his hips and began to ponder something he failed to conceive prior to attacking: how did he intend to pick the man up?

”I probably could have thought this out better,” he said, submerging his pistol back into its sunken holster. ”Picking up three hundred pounds of dead donut weight is gonna be a bitch.”

He groaned as he attempted to pull the man up by his arms; if not for buoyancy, he doubted he could've moved him an inch, but he did. Then he embarked on the laboring process of dragging him to the nearest landmass—a quivering batch of marsh. The mercenary questioned its ability to support the man's weight, but lack of options persuaded him to ignore his doubts.

He rolled the security officer(?—that's what he looked like to Deadpool) onto the batch of soggy grass. The officer sprawled over it with his back steadily sinking into the center. Water spilled over the sides of the grass patch, and grew a puddle over his abdomen; only his gut remained afloat, resembling an island in an ocean.

”I officially claim this land in the name of Deadpool Corps,” Deadpool joked with a chuckle. ”That is a spoiler to future endeavors, dear audience.” he flipped a thumbs-up to the drone in the sky.

”They're watching us, Baron. They want us to do well, which means you better not fuck this up.”

The mercenary spend the next several hours crafting a harness to drag the officer with. He stripped him down to his drawers, and used the other clothes—a sky-blue button-down and navy blue slacks—to belay a rope between them. One end was wrapped around the mercenary's arm, the other tied firmly to one of the man's ankles.

By the time he was done, the sun had started to climb over the skyline to the east; skyscraper windows shimmered like divine entities, who watched over the island's violence as indifferent spectators.

He pulled the officer back into the water and started to tug him across the marshlands.

Mad-pool D13 to D9

[Lord Zedd]

Zedd awoke abruptly, jumping in place as his senses came flooding back to him. The last thing he remembered was the tidal wave approaching the burly man and himself, and then his world turned into a dizzying, painful whirlwind. Had he really fallen so far that he couldn’t even challenge a half-hearted attack by nature? He’d fought his way through all sorts of disasters of incredible magnitude in his previous conquests, and now high tide was too much for him. This was just another thing he’d have to overcome.

The man was gone, and Zedd found himself sitting on a small island in the flooded area. It was barely big enough for him, likely a small mound before the water level rose. He rolled over and climbed to his feet, letting out a pained groan as he did. He scooped his staff up from the sand, then made sure the Dragon Dagger was securely affixed to his belt. He looked down at the metal wristband that threatened to blow him up if… well, he wasn’t sure exactly what would make that happen. It was intact, though, so that was good enough for the time being. Likewise, his bag of freebies from Syntech was still securely on his back, thank goodness, but the tumbling amongst the surf could have damaged everything even further. He’d need to check on all the contents to assess the damage fully.

Not here, though. There was no telling when the next hairy abomination would wander up and cause the next brawl. He needed to take a minute to get his bearings and figure out a gameplan. He remembered the building from before, and figured it was as good a place as any to study the tablet again. With only a rough idea on which way to go, Zedd waded back into the surf yet again.

Moving from D13 to Safehouse D

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull grumbled in pain and shook his head awake.

Skreeep...skruuup...skraamp!

The bruised Sergeant awoke, finding himself being drug along in a harness by Deadpool. The muddy wetlands squelched with each inch. The Merc with the Mouth was gaily whistling an upbeat tune as he pulled the burly cop along. The song sounded vaguely like “Y.M.C.A.”

“Whaa, where am I?” The dazed officer asked.

Deadpool stopped suddenly, dropping the Sergeant with a soggy plop in the mud. “Where? Can ya believe this guy! I thought you were supposed to ask cops for directions, not the other way around,” Deadpool replied with a mocking tone. Noticing the joke went totally over Mad Bull's still confused head, he decided to be at least partially helpful.

“We are in the big 'H' - 'E' - 'Double Hockey Sticks,' officer!”

“Ackkhff! " The burly cop coughed and spat out the last of the seawater in his lungs.  "No, this ain't hell… we're still in that game show, right? Dante's Abyss?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Give the man a prize!”

Mad Bull grumbled and began to pick himself out of the mud. He motioned at Deadpool for his cloths, who thankfully obliged. “How'd I end up out here?” John Estes asked while donning his uniform.

“I saw it with my own eyes. Some jackass POW’ED you from behind!” Deadpool began, “But not to worry! Your friend, ally and AA Sponsor, I, Deadpool have brought you far from the scene of the crime!”

The officer studied him for a bit. The red-cladded fellow’s eyes suggested that he was being honest, and the man's clothes seemed like one of those masked hero types. He thought back to his youth, reading old issues of The Human Torch and Namor.

“So whadda yer type call this, a 'Team-Up' or somethin’?” the officer replied as he buckled his leather utility belt around his waist. With a sudden shock, he reached for his side holster, finding it empty.

“Lookin' fer this, partner?” Deadpool asked with cowboy inflection. He spun the revolver along the trigger guard and pretended to fire it off at an unseen bandito. He frowned beneath his mask, not liking the weight of the weapon, then tossed it back to Mad Bull.

“That thing is so old, you'd be better off encasing it in plastic, sending it off to the CGC for grading, then begging Stan Lee to sign it.”

Mad Bull scoffed.

“Common, baby! I'll sell it on eBay and split the profit 50-50 with ya!”

The brawny policeman checked the cylinder. Satisfied that all six rounds were in place, he began to walk on, Deadpool not far behind. “You ever shut up?” the cop asked with mild annoyance.

“Never! Look, if we're gonna be partners, I got to ask,” Deadpool started. “Are you really a cop or is that some old school Village People fetish gear?”

[MADBULL34]

Forgot the movement quote:

Deadpool & Mad Bull have teamed up, moving from D9 to D10 for the item drop.

[Karl Jak]

End Day 2 – Early Morning

Begin Day 2 – Morning (6 AM to 12 PM, since people were discussing this in the box recently)

This phase ends at 4:30 CDT on June 20th

[Lord Zedd]

Zedd slumped into the safehouse, scanning the empty building a little better this time. It didn’t make too much of a difference, obviously, as he was unable to find anything useful in it. Instead he once more opened his bag, and pulled the tablet out. He studied the map that was available very briefly, slightly overwhelmed by all the beeping and notifications that were popping up. Regardless, he found his destination. An old amusement park held the promise of some level of riches, so that’s where he would go.

If nothing else, it would get him the hell out of this muggy, flooded area he seemed to be trapped in. Perhaps the giant cop would be somewhere around there as well. He was spoiling for a rematch on slightly better terrain, as he was convinced that was the only reason the battle had ended.

Unfortunately to get there, he would have to venture back into the surf. He glanced down at the metallic armband that threatened to kill him quite abruptly if he did something wrong. It hadn’t been damaged in the fight, and if the tablet was working, it was a safe bet that it hadn’t been ruined in the water, either. After all, why would their wonderful host skimp on technology to create a gory display to the audience? He was sure the saltwater would eventually corrode it, but they would kill him long before that came to pass.

Zedd figured none of that really mattered. He just packed his gear back up and exited the safehouse once more, deciding there was no time to sit around this useless building. The saltwater welcomed the fuming dark lord back in as he waded up to his chest, and then began to make his way towards dry land, hopefully for good. There was still a lot of water between him and there, though.

Moving from Safehouse D to D14

[Deadpool]

”Of course I'm a real cop—” the officer pointed a hotdog-shaped finger at the badge pinned over his left shirt pocket, ”—34th Precinct.” Disgust filled his eyes, offended by the notion he could be a phony cop. ”What the hell are you supposed to be?”

”Chill out, Mr. Slave,” the mercenary replied, trying his best to imitate Mr. Garrison from South Park. ”And I just had to ask.” He looked the officer up and down. ”I'm not one to talk—looking like Gimp from Pulp Fiction—but you could double as any machismo that goes to Touché on leather nights.”

And I'm Deadpool! What's your name?”[/b]

”People call me Sleepy,” the officer replied.

”Is it ok if I call you Pimp-C? The 'C' stands for cop—Pimp Cop.” the mercenary asked.

Sleepy furrowed a brow. ”Why Pimp-C?”

Deadpool smiled, and said, ”It's funny for the readers—they'll get it. If they know your character they will, at least.”

”Wha—“

Both of the men's tablets simultaneously alerted them of new notifications, interrupting the conversation with synchronized rings.

The mercenary glanced at Sleepy's book-bag. ”Go ahead, check it. I'm sure we both got the same notification.”

The officer rummaged a hand around in his bag. The sounds of plastic and metal rattled against one another until he pulled out the tablet. He stared at the screen confusingly, but soon his mustache stretched across the length of his jaw with satisfaction as he began peering into the sky.

”Wassup, Pimp-C?” Deadpool eagerly asked.

From his new friend's visage, he knew whatever it was was good. Perhaps Karl approved of their alliance, and had bestowed them with a gift basket (he could use an apple for the vitamins, amongst other purposes).

I think Baron is talking about making a bowl. Bad Baron.

Item drop,” Sleepy answered. ”Right here.”

Deadpool followed his eyes upward. ”Do items come with a tracking number or something, so we can get an ETA on it.”

”Nope, they just drop from the sky,” Sleepy replied. ” Sort of like bird poop.” Suddenly, his eyes flashed wide. ”Here comes something now!”

Deadpool searched the sky, but saw nothing; just rain. ”Where? All I see is falling Karl tears.”
Sleepy pointed, and the mercenary's eyes chased the invisible line it beamed to the parcel seesawing from the heavens. A parachute maintained its gradual decline; through its underside, Deadpool could see the name Syntech stitched into its material.

Immediately, his eyes darted around the scenery. He surveyed each pit of mud, patch of marsh, and rippling wave of water for potential threats. This was Dante's Abyss, the murderkill island of despair. Each item came with the threat of mutilation lurking closely behind like a cheetah hunting a gazelle. No one knew that as well as he did. He used to be the predator.

"Yo, Pimp, when this thing touches down we get out of here ASAP. Hear me?"

The brawny officer agreed immediately with a head nod. Past experiences must have already taught him the cruel lessons of item drops.

Acquiring item at D10; moving onward to D6

[MADBULL34]

The unlikely pair moved through the humid wetlands that lied north of the beach, the cooling ocean breeze now cut off by clumps of jungle foliage and marsh grasses.The two were moving together single file with Mad Bull prowling along with his revolver already in hand, ready to blast any perpetrators looking to start trouble.  Deadpool was also walking along pistol in one hand, but the other was about 4-inches deep inside the back-crack of his spandex costume.
 
The red-clad mercenary teetered bow-legged as he tried to pick the damp cloth out the folds of his butt cheeks.
 
“Listen, Pimp-C, you gotta lead this wagon train outta here. If I gotta play another minute of Oregon Trail, I’m liable to give both of us dysentery.”
 
“Take it easy kiddo,” Sergeant John Estes attempted to assuage, “They got some kinda resort up past this brush. You play your cards right, the two of us might even score some old liquor and some decent shuteye.”
 

---

After a short span of time, the pair arrived at the gates of the dilapidated grounds and approached the pool area.  An ancient tiki bar sat at the edge of the pool, empty bottles and broken margarita glasses littering the ground.  Cracked and sun-baked plastic lounge chairs surrounded the pool itself, which was filled with foul smelling water. A diving board was perched and the pool’s edge, but any swimmer would have to skim through a solid inch of jungle grown algae floating on the top of what had become a stagnant pond.
 
“You had me walk through a jungle for this!?” Deadpool motioned at the pool incredulously.  “Look CHiPs, this has got to be the worst idea for a vacay since that time I stumbled into a Panama City Beach gloryhole!”
 
Mad Bull walked towards the abandoned tiki bar as Deadpool continued to mourn the complete lack of bikini babes.  With a hefty kick, the burly officer broke through the little wood door separating the bar from the non-existent patrons. “Who’d front the money to open a resort in a shit-hole like this anyway?” the Merc wondered out loud.
 
“Who cares!” Mad Bull replied from behind the bar with a grin. In one hand he held a half-filled bottle of tequila. “Catch!”
 
The policeman tossed the bottle to his new partner; after catching it, Deadpool looked the label over. “A fine vintage, my dear sleuth! Maybe Karl left a blow-up doll or two in the hotel for us to do shots with?”
 
Mad Bull leapt over the bartop and joined Deadpool’s side. He swiped the bottle and took a swig of the liquor.  His new friend was without a doubt crazy, but he was beginning to understand the subtext between all the jokes and almost indecipherable puns. It was clear to him that the mercenary wasn’t looking to find discarded sextoys, he was asking the cop to accompany him in scanning the resort for items or hostile threats. He handed the bottle of alcohol back to Deadpool and unholstered his revolver. “Yeah, let's go see if we can find our very own MaryJane Rottencrotch, or maybe something even more useful.”

Deadpool & Mad Bull moving from D6 to D2. We're searching for the item that is to be dropped at 6pm.

[Karl Jak]

End Day 2 - Morning

Begin Day 2 - Afternoon (12 pm to 6 pm)

This phase began 3 hours ago and will run until 430 PM CDT on June 21st

[MADBULL34]

The two men scoured the lobby, guns raised and at the ready. The soiled shag carpet near the concierge desk crunched underfoot. The burly sergeant wondered if the sound came from trampling broken glass, debris, or bugs. The lobby was empty and offered nothing helpful to the pair, so they opted to dive deeper into the belly of the dilapidated resort.
 
As they crept along the hallway and down towards the first floor ballroom, they suddenly spied a discarded push cart standing inexplicably amidst the delict surroundings.  A silver domed bowl covered a porcelain plate. Flatware was arranged neatly alongside.
 
“Pimp-C, I knew you rode in style, but to imagine, a guy like you can even get room service in a dump like this,” Deadpool joked.
 
The hefty cop lumbered to the push cart and lifted up the domed bowl, revealing the latest item drop from Karl. Mad Bull tucked the curious object in his pocket. He turned, eager to share the good news with his partner, but the hallway had become suspiciously empty, with only the stink of burnt O-zone hinting that something was amiss. The policeman pulled back the hammer of his revolver and cautiously began sweeping the adjacent offices.
 
Boop! Boop! Boop!
 
The electronic device in his supply bag began to chime, indicating an alert. The inexperienced tech user fumbled with the gizmo for a second until he finally managed to view the booping message.
 
“Deadpool has entered the coliseum!” the little tablet shouted in bright eye catching font.
 
The policeman grunted and relaxed his weapon. “So that's what happened. I was about to guess a UFO took him back to his home planet. Ah well! Best of luck to that kook...” he thought before smiling vaguely for his new friend.  “...but I don't think he'll need it.”
 
Mad Bull glanced tentatively around the next corner and was suddenly brought back to reality. With Deadpool now gone, it was to dangerous to stay in the area alone for any longer. It was time to move swiftly in search of safer lodging.

Mad Bull moving from D2 to D3

[Lord Zedd]

Zedd made his way through the high water, disgusted by the obnoxious smells in the area. The saltwater, the mud, it all seemed so disgustingly natural. He was supposed to be above this. And yet here he still trying to get to the actual island this event was taking place on, and he’d already fought someone and succumbed to the elements. Not a good look, but what could he do?

Something brushed against his leg quite suddenly, but when he hopped at best he could and took a defensive stance, it dashed away from him. Zedd clenched his staff tightly as he looked around. There appeared to be no other contestants around him. Had Whale Man managed to sneak up on him underwater once more?

He turned to see that wasn’t the case, though the his previous foe was still to blame. His foot was still bleeding, as were over various knicks and scratches across his body. The water behind him and around him was slightly diluted with a dark red blood. Natural predators had come inland, literally smelling the blood in the water.

Zedd saw a dorsal fin rise briefly from the water before diving back under. The predator was close, but it didn’t realize it was toying with another hunter.

“Vile fish, challenge me if you dare!” Zedd bellowed uselessly.

Zedd could feel the movement in the water nearby. It was swimming all around him, and Zedd admittedly didn’t know which way to face. There could have been multiple sharks, for all he knew. In fact, if a bloody brawl broke out, he didn’t know how many more would come.

“I don’t have time for you, seafood platter!” Zedd shouted out, rethinking his course of action.

He then very quickly began to make his way towards shore, motivated by the need to get to work and conserve resources and energy. But not by fear.

Nope, not a drop.

Moving from D14 to D10

[Strazio Rockwell]

Feeling leagues better since his outburst Strazio filled his waterskin in the nearby river. After he drank his fill the prime sat alongside the river and soaked his swollen hand in the water. The cool water offered temporary relief to the boy’s ravaged hand. With his free hand he rubbed the growing knot on his head. The rock had hit him hard enough to break the skin, but not hard enough to do any kind of lasting damage. All-in-all Strazio counted himself lucky, asides from a few scrapes and bruises he ended up alright. Not that it wasn’t frustrating, and although he was in a state of near-perpetual anger the culmination of every scrape, cut, bruise, and burn pissed him off.

He wanted another fight, something to help release some aggression.

Strazio checked his Syntech tablet. Asides from a cracked screen and a scuffed up case the tablet functioned fine. He was near the border of two zones, one described as the “megacity” and the other as “the foam”. There were few item drops left on the map and they seemed to disappear with every passing second. He still needed to visit a safehouse yet and the thought of trekking back over the mountains made his feet hurt.

After a few minutes of deliberation the prime stood and muttered to himself, “well, time to quit burning daylight.”

He followed the river south. Partly because he had no interest in the megacity and partly because it was the path of least resistance. He had thrown away his cloak, forsaking the tattered garb and throwing his flesh before the mercy of the sun. Demetri’s rifle hung lazily across his back, the barrel angled at the sky. Asides from a few bright red hives his hand had recovered from the insects’ venom quite nicely. But despite the easy path and his speedy recover the Avatar of Anger marched with a wicked scowl. You’d do well to pity anyone that met his gaze.

moving d1 to d3

[Karl Jak]

End Day 2 -- Afternoon

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

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