Zone C -- Megacity One

[Enel]

“Worth it.”

I puff on the cigar. It’s an experience. I’ve never smoked one before, and I can tell how expensive it must be. Full of aroma, salt-and-peppery flavours, and with a horrible clenching sensation in my chest when I inhale.

I do so. Cough, cough. “That’s the good shit,” I manage to choke out.

Something touches the outer range of my senses and I freeze, gripping the cigar between my teeth. Seems like some motherfucker finally ran into me. I raise my fingers like pistols and duck behind a tree. He’s moving fast, but he’s not set to run into me unless I make a move.

Well, God Enel doesn’t hide from strangers.

I wait until his psychic silhouette crosses mine, then I step out, finger aimed at the back of his head. “STOP,” I command.

It’s a man in a black suit, caped and with two sharp protrusions from the top of his head. Some kind of … cat … man?

“Turn … slowly.”

He does so.

Oh, man.

He’s taken the cosplayer look way too far. “What are you supposed to be?” I ask, genuinely bewildered.

“I’m Batman,” he snarls. “Who are you?”

Bat Man. Wow.

I gesture to myself. “God Enel. The One True God. I’m sure you’re overwhelmed to make my acquaintance.”

He looks me up and down, with those blank eyes. I assume they’re part of his mask, but maybe he’s got actual bat DNA.

“You a fuckin’ vampire?” I ask.

He looks at me funny-like. “No.”

“You got any items?”

He answers without missing a beat. “No. You?”

A sly smile slides across my face. “Mmmmaybe. You wanna try and take them off me?”

Another weird look. “No. I’m trying to get pickups, not get myself killed.”

“Well, isn’t it your lucky day!” I spread my arms wide. “I just traded my last patsy for a cigar, so I’m in the market for someone new. Whaddya say, Bats … man, want to partner up for the next drop? We can play rock-paper-scissors for it.” Rock-paper-scissors-electrocution, actually.

He grunts. “Sure. I’ve been looking for an ally.”

“Great. We’re gonna get on juuuust fine, Bats.”

He says nothing to that. Well, that’s fine by me. Less talking, more winning, that’s my motto.

Batman and Enel go from C5 to C17.

[Simon]

By the time Tony had finally flung open the doors to the lobby of the safe house, several shards of glass were still embedded in his reopened wounds. All the viewers at home were treated to the lovely sight of Dante yanking out fragments of windshield from his blood-soaked extremities, the bandages over them made tattered and worthless. As the last particularly large piece of glass was flicked into the garbage can, Jak Mar took notice and looked over his long-term ally.

"What happened to you?" The lost prince asked, thankful that someone he didn't immediately hate had now shown his face. "Did you get in another fight? Thrown through a window?"

Tony's answer was equal parts relieving and somewhat pathetic: "Crashed a car."

An uproar of laughter came from the walls of the re-purposed employee lounge, over the faint lull of a microwave oven. "Ahaha, that's what you get for flooring it in the rain, dummy! Ohoho, man...!"

The Son of Sparda adopted a look of disgust that rather oddly mirrored Mar's own in response to this crude comment. The redcoat looked around momentarily, spying both Jak and some guy in feudal-looking garb with a katana at his side. The latter was probably the 'Shinmen Takezō' spoken of in the culling results... which would most likely make the loud-mouthed person in the back 'Deadpool'. Fantastic.

"You okay there, Jak?" Tony asked, looking over his old partner. The green-haired fighter seemed particularly more grumpy than usual, not even managing a smile or happy nod at Redgrave's appearance.

"Ugh. Deadpool over there is a real pain," the Eco warrior finally replied, reaching for an ice pack. He gingerly settled the bag over his groin, shivering from the rush of cold surging through his damaged nether region. Tony thought it would be polite not to ask.

A ding sounded from the back rooms, and what had to be Deadpool walked out a few seconds later. The full red-and-black jumpsuit was absolutely preposterous, and yet the devil hunter found himself oddly impressed at the style of the damaged outfit, if not the practicality. What was more preposterous then the mock superhero getup was the apron and mitts the mouthy mercenary wore over them, as if he were some 1950s housewife. He held out a plate of microwaved meat strips and announced, "Okay boys, who wants bacon!?"

Jak and Shinmen groaned. Dante said nothing, remaining curious and dripping with blood and rainwater. Deadpool looked around, shrugged, and took one of the strips for himself, lifting his mask to bite into it. The room got a glimpse of Wade Wilson's horrifically scarred face as it chewed thoughtfully, then scrunched up in dislike.

"Ew. RP flavor."

Dante moving from C21 to Safehouse C.

[Enel]

Bats Man seems like a pretty okay guy.

“So … the last guy I was with turned out to be a vampire.”

He grunts. “Really.”

“Really. I mean, he seemed pretty normal when I first met him. Then we ended up fighting this God guy, Odin, and it seemed a liiittle suspicious when he took a spear to the gut and didn’t end up dying.”

“Uhuh.”

“And then I was pretty sure he drank some guy’s blood, but I wasn’t sure. I was kinda hallucinating at the time. And distracted. By this thing.” I point at my tablet.

“Alright.”

“Are you listening, Batman?”

“I’m listening. You killed the God, Odin. Saw it on the Dataverse feed.” He says this like it’s nothing.

“Ohhh shiiiit you saw it? What did you think of my killing blow?” I grin broadly.

He looks at me, coldly. Man, it would really help your social life if you would take off the helmet, Bats. I can’t even tell what expression you’re making. Maybe that’s deliberate. He probably fancies himself one of those ninja types. Speaking of which!

“So tell me you’re not another powerless dope. I mean, the last guy turned out to have powers in the end, but Odin? God, the guy just had a spear! It was a huge letdown. I don’t want to run into a fight and find out you’re just a bat cosplayer.”

He walks in silence for a few moments. “I can hold my own.”

That’s it? “You can ‘hold your own’? What does that mean? Bat powers? Flying?” I affect a stereotypical vampire accent. “Drinking blooood?”

“I don’t have powers,” he says. “But I’ve got plenty of experience working with those who do. And I don’t need powers to keep up. I’ve got my own tools.” He pats his belt.

“Ohhh, gadgets huh? Got any drugs in there?”

He stares at me. “Not for you.”

I wrap my hands behind my head. “Spoilsport.”

Enel and Batman moving from C17 to C21. Awaiting Item Drop.

[Oleander]

Waking up in a different place than he he remembered is starting to become a common theme. The magic transportation was almost common since his arrival in the Omniverse and, at this point, was becoming quite convenient. The swordsman rolled to his feet and stretched. The rest was welcomed, but he quickly realized the pain in his shoulder - and a grunt was his outward response. Inwardly, he was unleashing a flurry of curses at Deadpool and Jak for their use of firearms.

There was no use just laying around, so he plucked that odd glass slate from his backpack and tapped awkwardly at the screne. It took a moment of fumbling, but eventually it came on. Tap. Tap. Tap. Errg... Wrong thing. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Damnit." Finally, he came to what he was looking for; the drops. Oh look, one was appearing right near him in just a few hours. All he had to do was step outside and take a look. A smirk formed as he realized just how many people were going to be here as well. He had yet to gain an item...

Takezo took a moment. He had a few hours to kill, so he ripped into one of the rations. The fight with Deadpool and Dark Jak had really taken it out of him. A few times his shoulder pained him, but it was nothing he had not experienced before. The bullet was at least not jutting out of his chest like an arrow would be, and it had hit the hollow above his heard and next to his shoulder cuff, meaning though it hurt like a bitch, he could at least move it. Maybe not fully effectively, but he was right-handed.

There were a few other people here, including Jak and Deadpool apparently. He grunted at them and the mutilated-faced man's offer of pathetic strips of meat before he headed towards the door. The time spent in this Safe House should reset his collar so he could go out and about without worry of detonation. The expanse of city around him was familiar and annoying. The mountain-like buildings were more than a bit unsettling, especially surrounded by such thick fog.

Nevertheless, the swordsman rested his bum left hand on the scabbard of his weapon, his right itched to reach across his torso to unleash the beast once again. Without provocation a smirk had formed upon his lips. He was eager to fight. So much blood had been shed, the swordsman was practically swathed in drying crimson, indigo and black ichor from his various foes.

Moving from SHC to C21, waiting for the Item Drop.

[Harlan Higgs]

Hendy trudged through the pouring rain, his cigar fizzling out as he flicked it onto the rainy asphalt streets. This was his kinda town. Metropolitan, precipitous. He'd spent many a night prowling environments like this in search of mischief, women, and blood. Not to mention a good time. Hendy was all about having a good time. Because, hell, what was the point of being immortal if you didn't enjoy it? A night of debauchery was just as engaging and enjoyable as an inveterate threat to life and limb. The Ravnos was a gambler through and through, and a gamesman was worth nothing if he didn't accept risk from time to time.

However, there were ways to ensure you had luck in your favor. The kindred was going through a few of them now, snapping open his revolver, checking his knuckles, flexing his fingers. He was still brimming with vim and vigor from nearly draining the Norse god Odin. God's blood, who'd have thunk it? It was like drinking a bottle of lightning. And speaking of lightning...heh. He would have liked to have tasted Enel, but that was a taste that would have been more trouble than it was worth. The man was already paranoid enough, and an attempt would not have ended well. Although it posed an interesting question; would that have been proof of Enel's self professed divinity? If he tasted just as potent as Odin, a commonly known and definitely established divine power?

Eh. Questions for another time. For now...barring negotiations going a particular route...he had something else on the menu. Something that was probably the vampire equivalent of a fully loaded super sized burger meal. Ah, law enforcement. How far the noble profession had fallen since Harlan's day. A fat cop would have been laughed out of the local crook's bar if he'd bulged in all sweaty and blustering.

Soon. He was savoring this encounter.

Hendy moving from C17 to C18

[Jak Mar]

His part really hurt but Jak bit his tongue and fought through the pain. Jak couldn’t even get some shut eye considering Deadpool and Shinmen are in the same area.

In his “area” of the safehouse, he ate more of the rations/protein bars in his bag.

Then Tony Redgrave opened the doors, seeing Jak get up from his spot.

“Dante, seriously. It’s good to see you.”

Deadpool hung outside the door cooking for the samurai and the eco warrior and took a bite of bacon, while Jak carefully frowned at the mercenary’s  face.

“Ugh… Tough damn fight.”

Shinmen didn’t wait around, and the eco warrior’s own device was ringing.

There was a drop outside their door and it was lucky to be so nearby, but everyone was going to be there soon enough.

He looked at the redcoated man and over at Deadpool.

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull shoved the broken remnants of the a bearclaw donut into his mouth and then eyeballed the few crumbs still stuck to the bottom of the wax paper wrapper that had come with his purchase of six delicious pastries.The music within Larry’s Lard Land was bright, chipper and happy.
 
“Would you like some more, Officer Estes?” a robotic voice chimed out.
 
A cute little robot barely 4 feet tall was dressed in a flowery apron. “She” carried a small plastic tray and begun to collect the trash and sweep the crumbs off the table. Mad Bull’s stomach growled and he regretfully watched the crumbs disappear into a bin compartment hidden within the robot itself.
 
“I’ll take another blueberry and a chocolate iced kolache for the road,” he replied. “Oh! And another pot of coffee, yeah?”
 
“Right away!” the robot cheerful intoned, perhaps happy to finally be getting some use after an eon of sleep within the deserted corridors of Mega City One.
 
The burly cop fingered the shotgun that sat atop the table, unsure if he was happy or sad that no other Primes had bothered to challenge him in acquiring the latest item.  Within a short sixty seconds, the sweet little robot had glided back; two perfectly iced donuts resting on wax paper atop her tray, flanked by a steaming hot cup of coffee.
 
As the lawman sipped and munched on the snack, he pulled out his electronic tablet and studied the locations for the latest item drops. A beacon flashed in zone C-21; he had come that way just hours ago and felt he could make it back in time to snag another reward. He quickly shoved the two globs of dough down his throat, drained the coffee and snatched up his weapons. As he lumbered through the door and towards the Buick, a happy metallic voice could be heard crying, “Come again soon!” just before the droids and cafe’s power shutdown, rendered once again useless in the sprawling, husk of a metropolis.

Mad Bull moves from C12 to C11

[Strazio Rockwell]

What a fucking bust. Strazio scowled and smacked the screen of his Syntech tablet. The shattered screen danced and flickered, revealing glitched-out lines of red and green. First a faulty item drop now half of the map was gone. The Avatar of Rage held the device as one might hold a frisbee and looked down the street. A half-dressed manikin stood advertising an outfit that consisted of a padded jacket and a pair of white-laced panties. Strazio snapped his fingers to grab Gamzee’s attention and then pointed to the synthetic doll.

“Betcha ten OM that I can hit that thing’s head from here with this,” he said and held up the busted tablet.

Gamzee smiled and responded, “that’d take a miracle bruh, you’d need some kinna motherfuckin’ sorcery.”

“Good think I’m a miracle worker then,” Strazio answered.

The tablet sailed through the air, spinning like a saw blade. At the start of its path it looked to be dead-on, but about halfway to the plastic human it shanked a hard left and crashed through a department store window. Gamzee cheered and Strazio cussed. For all the chaos that the island brought the two were having a genuinely good time, and were it not for the errant explosion or residual blood splatter they might’ve been able to forget about the Abyss. But probably not.

They huddled over Gamzee’s tablet and took not of a new set of item drops.

“Not much time left,” Strazio said, “one’s nearby and I’m not going to let it go to someone else.”

Gamzee nodded and the two gather their gear and set off in the direction they came. Strazio sighed, he was beginning to feel like he was chasing his tail again. First it was the Highland’s wild ride, and he prayed to not get taken on the Megacity’s wild ride.

moving C4 to C16

[MADBULL34]

As the motor of the ancient Buick rattled along the empty streets of Mega City One, the burly Sergeant John Estes felt himself growing increasingly lethargic. He had spent a fair number of hours eating up the stock of Larry's Lard Land Cafe, and could feel a dirty lump of dough sitting at the bottom of the belly. Who knows how long the ingredients to today’s donuts had been left inside some deep freeze before the entire cafe had awoken, seemingly just to hand him some odd prize from the contest’s organizer.
 
His stomach grumbled as he drove through the endless blocks of the metropolis and began to feel a little sick. “Why the hell did I drink all that nasty beer and eat those old donuts?” he thought to himself. He furrowed his brow and his thick mustache followed suit just above his upper lip. “To be fair, those wee little robots were so happy to finally have a customer. Ya know, I actually kinda feel bad about leaving. They might not get to cook their little donuts for another thousand years,” he considered, almost metaphysically!”
 
As he continued to put miles on the odometer, he tried to shake loose that weird thought and consider other possibilities. “If the caretaker droids are still operational in this shit-hole, that means there’s gotta be some other ways to entertain myself,” he thought.
 
“Yo! Tablet!” he called out, trying to access the electronic device’s hands-free voice-activated services.
 
“HOW MAY I SERVE YOU SERGEANT JOHN ESTES?” the device spoke back mechanically.
 
“Uhh...search for...” he coughed with embarrassment. “Gemme the nearest listing for robotic pleasure palaces.”
 
The device replied back monotonically: “FOUR MILES NORTH, TARGET ACQUIRED IN ZONE C21. BUSINESS REGISTERED AS ‘CLANGER’S CLAPTRAP.’”
 
“Heh, heh!” Mad Bull chuckled as he hit the accelerated a little harder.
 

Mad Bull moves from C11 to C19

[Todd Ingram]

Batman and the god-like man scouted out the area which was the designated drop zone. The dark knight took a iconic pose, one foot on the ledge of the rooftop, leaning on his knee and his cape wavering behind him. Enel walked up beside him, observing his new found red-shirt up close. Even copying his pose for a moment, checking to see if it was indeed as comfortable as he made it look, it wasn't.

"I have to ask Bats, how can you stand walking around like that all day? It's been days already, please tell me you took a bath somewhere along the line?"
Batman's silent stare into the distance was more than enough for the god. "Ah man, that's just gross. I know it’s a death match and all, but hygiene bro, hygiene."

"Someone's coming." The deep voice of the caped crusader interrupted Enel, not even responding to the allegations.

"Ah some pests came out their little holes? Who is it?"

From a distance they saw a lone warrior walk towards the drop zone. But there was more, something within his guts was telling Batman something was off. 'There hasn't been a single drop zone where there are this few contestants. These buildings make it too easy for others to hide their presence. I'm not quite sure what Mr.delusion's powers are nor how trustworthy he is. It might be better to retreat and observe from a further distance. If there is indeed just the one, we can always go back and fight for it then. Best not to take any chances.'

"I don't trust this, let's go."

Enel's proverbial jaw dropped, "You what now? Bats, it's right there for the taking, all we have to do is take that punk down, what's the problem?"
Batman turned around, cape fluttering behind him, and started walking the other direction. Never before had the thunder-god  seen such a complicated man with this much disregard for being in a god's presence. But, somehow, in a strange way. The costumed man was amusing Enel, for now. Following the Bat-man to a secure location to reconsider strategy.

Enel and Batman moving C21- SHC

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee groaned and gallivanted about. Smacking plastic mannequin store front hoes upside the head with his pimpin' stick. Such was the life of a young Makara, a young subjugglator. You gotta start 'em young like that, don'tcha know? That purple blood is good for very few things, but it is certainly good for corrupt tyrannical nobility. He ran his thumb over the ancient lines of the wooden staff, the one that was basically just an oddly straight and sturdy branch. Mmm. Good wood.

"Are we there yet?" Gamzee asks, a hopeful smile alighting his face as he looks at his buddy.

"No," Strazio answers.

"Oh, damn. Been a while."

Silence for a few moments, nothing but the tmp tmp tmp of footfall.

"We there yet, Straz?"

Strazio Rockwell stops in his tracks, turns around and faces his apprentice. "N-No. No we are not."

"Ah, ah okay, no worries, sorry bout that."

Strazio eyes him suspiciously, before reluctantly turning his back and once again beginning the trek to another fucking item drop.

Silence.

"Yo, Strawso?"

The mage cringes inwardly. "Yes, Gamzee?"

"Are we there yet?"

The Defender sweeps out his apprentice's walking stick from under him, causing the bard to almost fall on his ass.

"No, you moron. We ain't there yet."

"Right right sorry dude I get it I get it," He says with a twinge of smart ass in his voice. The troll recovers on his old man cane and continues plodding along, following his mentor's lead. The city was growing, it felt like, with every step. With every little movement, a piece of the city folded in on the two and encased them further into the zone. They were not there yet, and most likely would not be there for a very long time. The beeping cheered them on, however, with the promise of help from above.

Gamzee and Strazio C16 to C21 to wait and challenge for the item drop if necessary.

[Oleander]

He watched the clock on that odd tablet. He was learning how to use it, slowly but surely. It still baffled him and there were a lot of things he did not quite understand about it, but he could do the basics. Pull up the map and relevant data - thanks to spying on Yuki-not-Yuki while she did her thing. Time was nearing for the drop. Takezo counted the seconds.

A smirk appeared as the clock struck the appropriate minute. It was difficult to see through the dense fog, but he was quick to begin his search. The more items I find, the more they'll hunt for me! Let my prey walk onto my sword. He saw in the distance two bodies walk through the mist. He thought of challenging them, but they retreated into the safehouse he had left moments ago.

With a grunt, Takezo continued his task; looking for the drop. Hell, maybe it would be a new sword! This old blade was growing dull and brittle with age. It was not the finest forged. Stolen from a corpse, he half expected it to snap by now. It was a rather pitiful trophy for his first kill. With many more that followed, Takezo was more than ready to upgrade.

Just as he was considering the sword, he discovered the drop zone. He had done almost a full circle around the safehouse before stumbling across the crate. A smirk formed and he eagerly flipped open the lid to see just what he had uncovered. Let them come... The thought burned in his eyes. Like a fire that raged, he was ready to be contested for this treasure.

Just as he looked upon his treasure, he peers up to Gamzee, a smirk formed. "Have you come to challenge me?" He closed the chest, his left hand resting upon his scabbard. Takezo was covered in three shades of blood from four victims of his sword. He looked roughed up, but not too badly injured - and his eyes were as lively as a newborn, and full of joy. "I wonder what color you will bleed!"

C21, searching for item drop. Will accept Gamzee's challenge.

[MADBULL34]

Beads of sweat raced down the hairy, muscular chest of Sergeant John Estes.  The lawman was driving with full purpose, his eyes on the prize ahead in Zone C21. With few traffic droids to be mindful of in Zone C19, the burly cop zoomed at breakneck speeds until he had arrived outside “Clanger’s Claptrap."

The beaten old Buick came to a rattling stop at what would have normally been the front valet parking kiosk. Had the city been alive with people and creatures going about their business, the policeman may have felt a little embarrassed pulling up to a nice bordello in such a low-grade vehicle, but there was literally no one left to judge him, so he simply parked the car right in the front outside the main door.

Clanger’s Claptrap and the city block it stood on had come alive, perhaps with the arrival of Mad Bull or other Primes. Garish neon signs displayed animated images of sexy legged robots bending and jutting out artificial body parts through a swirl of bright lights and harping sounds. Side-hung marquees flashed in seizure inducing spurts, “NUDES - NUDES - NUDES,” creating a cacophony of colors and lewd revelry that could have even put the most randy of Amsterdam red-light districts to shame.  The chiseled barrel chest of the lustful officer heaved as he imagined the X-Rated pleasures that would lie within.

He rubbed his hands together greedily and adjusted the leather belt that rested on his hips as if he was getting ready for a hot date with a $200 broad.

“Just think,”he thought to himself, “there’s gotta be 4 stories filled with pleasure droids waiting there to do whatever a guy wants...for free!”

He chortled out a crude laugh.

“And here I am, the only fella within miles near enough to enjoy it! Somebody pinch me, ‘cuz I’m either dreamin’ or died and gone to Heaven!”

A tall, lean and wafish looked man greeted him as he neared the front entrance. “Welcome Sergeant John Estes, we have been expecting you!”

The seasoned lawman stared at what must have been some sort of bouncer. The garish glow of neon lights shadowed the man’s face in wild, inhuman ways. Mad Bull felt unease at the [i]uncanny valley[I]nature of the robot. It looked outwardly like a man, but there was something undeniably artificial and unnerving about the thing. The officer gruffly spat on the sidewalk and turned back to the Buick. Once again, he rummaged within the cab and withdrew all his weapons… just encase.

Mad Bull moves from C19 to C21

Mad Bull laughed happily as he walked through the doors of Clanger’s Claptrap. The bordello was ran entirely by droids, and as if commanded by some great clockmaker, scores of beautiful robot men and women were engaging in a pre-planned ritual of erotic dancing, waitressing and bartending within the labyrinthine confines of the establishment.

The officer strutted through the opening lobbying, his cheeks flushed with the knowledge that the entire elaborate display existed for his pleasure...and his alone! Three buxom robots gathered towards him, each splaying themselves across the burly muscles of his chest. One cooed softly as she began to finger the buttons of his uniform, but the rough cop belted the robot away with an open handed slap.

“Later! I’ll take my own pick later! First…” he spoke aloud, “I got something to track down in the area.”

Mad Bull is also searching for the item in C21 and will fight anyone that challenges for it. I’ve set up a location to brawl in, but we don’t necessarily need to use it.

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face

C21 Item Drop

Gamzee Makara & Strazio Rockwell vs Shinmen Takezo

(hard to tell with non-exact time stamps that mybb uses, but it looks like you were over a half hour late to the deadline.  If all three of these guys want you to join their party, I'll add you)

Word Limit: 800
Posts Per Player: 2
Time Limit: 20 hours 
Random Elements: On

Post Order is -- Gamzee -- Takezo -- Strazio

[Enel]

The moment Batman said he had a feeling, my suspicion began to grow. No doubt he has his Bat-senses like I have my haki. And for some reason I’m inclined to trust him when he says to err on the side of caution.

Sure enough, not five minutes later, I can sense several incoming figures on my haki. “Son of a bitch,” I swear. “You’ve got good instincts, Bat-man.”

He grunts, as if to say ‘yeah’.

I like this guy!

The safehouse in this place is less ritzy and idyllic than the last one. It’s just a block of concrete, all things considered, and I wouldn’t have even found it if not for the map. Batman and I stride side-by-side, and I step ahead to push the door open and enter.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“Oh, welcome back!” comes a sweet, high-pitched female voice.

Finally. I turn the corner and there’s …

A guy in red-and-black striped spandex. Wearing … a pink frilly apron. That’s … just …

Something.

“Who the hell are you?” I ask. “Gimp-man?”

“With those pecs? I’m whoever you want me to be, sweetie.” He winks. How does … how does he wink with the mask on?

“You can call me God Enel,” I snarl.

He puts a hand to where his mouth would be, gasping. “God Enel. Well I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, mister God. I’m Deadpool, but honey is just fine.” He winks again. I want him to stop that at once.

I turn to Batman. “Friend of yours?”

He growls. “Never heard of him before this competition. He’s not from my world.”

“But I know you,” Deadpool lisps, pointy a dainty finger at Batman. “You’re …” He narrows his eyes. “…White Black Panther?”

“… Batman.”

I quickly make my way past the effeminate muscleman while he’s distracted by my compadre. (Sorry, Batman – I didn’t expect to have to use you as a human shield this soon.) In the room are two others, a pointy-eared fellow with blonde hair and--”

I gasp. “Grimdark! You’re still alive? Fuck me. It’s good to see ya, man!” I extend a hand as though in offering, then slide it back before he can even extend his. “Haha, gotcha. Don’t touch me, ever.”

I move over to the couch, ignoring anything he might be saying in response. Twitter has been blowing up in my absence, and it takes me ages to catch up. Eh?! They’re all complaining because I ducked out of the drop zone before all the peons got there.

Impudent fucks. Who in my name do they think they all are?!

[float=left][/float]

@GodEnel
Hey dipshits, I’m not some glorified bug-zapper. Let the scrubs duke it all out. Some of us have places to be.

Tch. Not all of them are ignorant comments. A few, recognise my glory. They’ve been putting little marks next to their posts like #GodEnelForChamp and #GodEnelWinsDA. I’m glad there are some mortals for whom there is still a shred of hope.

Deadpool leans around the kitchen counter. “Hey sweetie,” he lisps, “I’m making bacon. You want some?” I can practically see his leg up behind him, foot touching his ass. In fact … no, he’s really doing it. There’s a reflection in the glass behind him.

“… Yeah,” I grumble.

“Wonderfulll. And you, Batty-wats?”

The Batman growls, “Yes, please.”

“Now you boys get comfortable now! I’ll bring it riiight over when it’s ready.”

I can’t complain. It’s not the maid I wanted, or deserve, but … it’s the one I get right now.

After my bacon and toast, I’m feeling a little bit better. I’d forgotten what semi-edible food tastes like. I take a moment to put my legs up. I’ve barely had a chance to rest since this competition started, and it’s nice to take a breather. I may be a God, but I get tired too … sometimes.

Honestly, I’m starting to feel a little bad about snapping at my twitter followers. They just want to see me fight, and who can blame them? Me going at full power is a glorious spectacle. Unfortunately, this is an endurance competition, and I have to pace myself. Not all of us can go without food or sleep like that fucking Henderson chap. The name of the game is items and survival.

Batman starts a conversation for the first time, I think, since I’ve met him. “Rest up, but we might not want to stick around too long. Neither of us have been culled for the colosseum yet. It can’t be far off.” It’s probably the most he’s spoken since we’ve met, too. Poor man. Well, your God is here to answer your prayers. Or at least listen. I don’t … guarantee results.

“Pfff, I’m not worried about that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to fight all those rabid dogs outside. I’ve got better things to do than dirty my hands with every suicidal fanboy on the island. A God needs standards.”

Batman made a noise of agreement. “A brawl with so many others has … too many unpredictable elements.”

“But the colosseum?” I continue, “Nah. The colosseum is a nice fair arena for me to showcase my talents. I wouldn’t mind.”

Batman heads off somewhere to sleep, or something, and I yawn before checking my Dataverse device. There’s something … addictive about watching one’s followers go up. Even those who claim to hate me, who say I’m ‘reprehensible’ are still watching my every move. I’ve got a gravitational pull that none can resist. I’m a phenomena, a happening. I’m the main event, son.

And funnily enough, they’ve latched onto my comment about the colosseum. These thirsty fuckers are dying for a bit of my lightning. They were really let down that I left the drop zone, huh?

Oh go on then. I’m a merciful God.

[float=left][/float]

@GodEnel
If this gets 10,000 retweets, I will volunteer to go to the colosseum. #Enel #DA

I yawn and stretch my arms. Time for a nap.

[Jak Mar]

Not too long after the eco warrior looked over at the redcoated man and sighed, another two came in. One of the contestants calling himself a god of all people. Jak muttered and eyed the other black caped man. The knife eared looked at the silver haired man.

“You know these two?”

Tony eyed the black cowled man in a hushed voice looked over at the eco warrior. “I do..know him at least.”

His tablet blinked and he sighed, the power rankings were up and he was last.

He muttered something under his breath “Great.”

Deadpool was still cooking bacon for the people who walked in and the god took the bacon and ate it.

[Gildarts]

Gildarts and Illidan were walking along the path less traveled in the woods. Gildarts gave himself the task of scavenging for berries that looked somewhat edible but most of the plants were overwatered. They were more likely to find coconuts in oak trees. Still, he was trying to distract himself from her voice when Karl’s beeped from the map app.
 
“Come on down to C6! Those who still haven’t gotten an item might still have a chance!” He ended the transmission in a mocking laugh. Gil’s eye twitched. That was two voices he could stand not hearing taunt him so profusely. The island was wearing on him and fatigue was settling into the middle-age mage’s bones.
 
“We’re in Zone B. It can’t be that far away,” Illidan said, getting wiser to the idea that the glowing map was more useful, despite it not originating from an ancient elven relic. “Let’s go.”
 
They were already headed in the right direction, Gildarts confirmed as the chittering device buzzed in his hand. He was fumbling a little, holding onto his handy chainsaw and the tablet at the same time, while his silver arm continued to jerk around every once and awhile. The little blinking blue dot continued to ping as it traversed the map, much like a radar. It would be useful if they could’ve seen the other participants pings, so that they could weave a formidable stratagem. But sometimes going in blind is spontaneous and magic users like Illidan and Gildarts are sharpened like the edges of a fine blade by improvising.
 
Gildarts had also checked his Omnitwitter and his fans had told him about the nefarious things his competition had been doing in order to win. This really pissed the man off, he was a team player, prided himself in the noble, and to hear what just a fraction of the people tweeting him were saying blew his oblivious mind.
 
Well what did you expect? Courtesy in this competition? Don’t you remember what happened last time? Hell, even I was there. YOU DIED. Not to mention there were a lot of other aspects I don’t think your fragile morality could handle. But yeah, keep all that raw strength and power locked away in your rage box while I tirelessly continue to search for the key.
 
Well, it does get me angry. Gildarts admitted, I can’t control the others though, I can only face those who I go toe-to-toe with.
 
Ugh you’re such a pussy! Kick some ass, use all your power and hold nothing back. Illidan over there has been craving for you to do it since he saw you in the Pre-Show. Believe me. He craves bloodshed just as much as you claim not to.
 
Gildarts rolled his eyes and blinked, he still couldn’t find any berries.
 

Gillidan B15 to C6. Waiting for Item drop and searching around for it. Not really looking for a fight, but that doesn't mean I won't bring my A-game.

[MADBULL34]

Mad Bull stomped through the front lobby of the robotic brothel, furiously buttoning his uniform shirt and adjusting the crotch of his pants. Scores of pleasure droids followed behind him in a train of cooing, simpering sex voices.

He stood at the front entrance angrily notching his leather utility belt around his waist and barked at the automaton who had stayed on watch at the door. “What's all that racket I heard outside,” the burly cop barked at the emotionless bouncer. “Three Primes are in violent confrontation over an item,” it cooly replied in an artificial sounding tone.

“What!” he bellowed as he socked the glorified robot butler against it's perfectly shaped chin. Mad Bull waved the stinging feeling out of his fist, but the bouncer didn't seem bothered in the least. “That's why I came here, ya stupid sack of bolts! For the item!”

“Terribly sorry sir,” it replied dispassionately.

From under the shelter of Clanger’s Claptrap awning, the cop ruminated on the sight of the three Primes lining up to do battle.

“Shall I fetch your car, sir?” the monotone voice inquired.

“Naw…” Sergeant Estes replied, a sense of hesitancy in his voice. “Look Jeeves, you got a back exit outta here that'll steer clear of that fight?”

“Certainly, sir.”


Mad Bull slinked through the back exit, deserting the hot-wired Buick lest he raised more attention from the other warring Primes. He traveled east into the next quadrant, coming upon what seemed to be an abandoned open air shopping mall. "I outta be able to lay low in here until those jagoffs finish their little brawl,” the seasoned law officer thought to himself.

He crunched through the ruined remains of the mall, passing by ancient and forgotten businesses that had once elegantly displayed their wares to thousands of teenagers. In the distance, he could hear the growing din of battle which he had smartly decided to skirt around.

He patrolled deeper down the corridors of the mall and gradually made it to the center of the shopping center. A public concert venue was set up and trash had gathered from the constant wind, layering with dust and debris as Time passed Mega City One by. He paused in the center of the audience space and gazed at the empty stage.

For several days now, Sergeant John Estes had been locked in Dante's Abyss. The Chief of the 34th Precinct, by order of the local Imperial command, had ordered him here to root out a criminal who had infiltrated the games undercover. The lawman had met an odd collection of Primes, but none seemed to fit the profile he was supposed to be searching for.

”If I come back to Corsucant empty handed, the Chief is gonna eat my balls with his morning beans,” he thought grumpily. In frustration, he kicked at a discarded Pepsi can, causing it to clatter loudly at the base of the stage.

~~shuffle, shuffle~~

Mad Bull instinctively reached for his sidearm and roused himself to attention. He had heard something nearby… the question was only who… Or what!

Mad Bull moves from C21 to C18

[The Future Warrior]

The actual flooded area rapidly gets left behind, fading into the distance behind them as they go. Graowr, as energetic as always, has her movement tempered only slightly by still being barefoot and the jungle terrain being unpleasant underfoot. But soon enough, even that gets left behind, and the majin and the assassin drift into the outskirts of the city. "Okay. Like I said, let's just duck into some kind of building somewhere so I can get all sorted!" Her words tumbled out rather quickly, and she'd been fidgeting and messing with her scouter for most of the trip into the city. And as soon as they were within the outskirts proper, hitting the actual sections of sidewalk, she picked up her pace into a a swift, scurrying walk to a brisk jog. "Come on, come on..." she mumbled to herself. "...aha!"

It was a fairly simple house, unremarkable save for the fact that the door was knocked off its hinges. Not likely to be anything useful in there, but it was a roof overhead and a bit of shelter to get herself situated and sorted. Get her clothes back out and on, and then the raincoat to ward off some of the rain and keep them from getting thoroughly soaked again. It was the simple things, but given how much time she'd been spending in the water and completely, totally drenched lately, she was really starting to get over it. Wet clothes had risen several places on her list of things that she really disliked.

It was several minutes later that the cerulean not-actually-an-alien came bounding out of one of theback rooms of the abode. Her clothes were back in their proper place now, and the raincoat (which was actually rather large on her small frame, reaching down to nearly her ankles) draped over her shoulders. Under it, her backpack was looking a little more full than before. Some various odds and ends she'd picked up while rooting around, no doubt. "Okay! Sorry about that, forgot where I put some of my stuff!"

The raven-haired woman, leaning against the wall by the doorway, just looked at the blue girl with a blank look. Where...had she been keeping all of that? Did she find it all here? No, no...that would be way too convenient. Well, whatever. Didn't matter. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yep!" came the response.

And they both headed back out into the rain, continuing along the road and into the city proper.

Graowr and Dawn moving from D3 to C2

[Dust]

Dust woke up with a start, the familiar noise of the tablet breaking through his visionless dreams and throwing him forward off the rocks he was using as a improve bed. He then was face to face with a camera and let out a sound of surprise as he flattened back onto the rock. The camera just whirled its lenses as it focused on his face for the best-worse picture in Karl's Hall of fame/shame. He laid there breathing a bit until he realized the beeping in his bag stopped.

He lifted his hand to pushed the camera out of his personal bubble just far enough to get up and reach into his bag. His hair was dry by now and he only half wondered how long it has been. Not only did the tablet have a map but a clock. He'd been out for a few hours. No doubt the one's he'd been going for earlier were already captured or being fought over. He groaned at the idea of losing yet another opportunity. He wished he had Dawn or Takezo to tell him what to do, but his only company now seemed to be the floating camera that still hovered around him. As if taking count any new wounds. It would sadly disappoint Karl as he was holding up rather well.

But for what? He's managed to be a part of three deaths here, what does that count for? Did Karl enjoy his hunting dog? He seemed to have taken a shine to him during the first power ranking. Actually, it made him think about the beach again as he climbed to his feet and hoisted up his stuff on both shoulders before heading out. Once again he felt the drops of rain splatter against his skin, and again it didn't bother him in the least as he stared at the map again. C Zone had been where he had spawned. As well, where he met Shinmen and even nearly swallowed up by the haunted fog. He wondered if the rain would wash the ghosts away as well as the dirt on his back.

He glanced back at the cave as the camera began to follow him like there was an invisible leash connecting it and his collar. It was probably going to be there for a while, so Dust ignored it and moved on. Leaving him to his map work and his thoughts. Breaking this concentration to look back at the camera and hopefully into Karl's face. "Cabanas you say?" He asked, with a grin that was far more suitable to his face than a worried frown. His eyes even grinned, before he turned back to navigate the mountains and heading into the cityscape he had already been in. The city was more appropriate for this Lycan anyways.

Dust moves from E5 to C4