Zone E -- Highlands

[Dawnika Snow]

The dark haired assassin webbed through the rough mountains and hills that lay between her and the item drop in Zone D. Her muscles were weary and sore. If only she had her wings on this stupid island she could just fly over the mountains and staight into Zone D, but Karl Jak is a bitch, and this collar was restricting a lot of her powers.

Trudging through the valleys and cracks between the mountains, the lone commando continued onwards, pulling up her hood as the rain began to come down a bit more roughly. A small floating device followed her high in the sky; a camera, Karl Jak's visual of all the competitors. If it wouldn't get her disqualified, she'd have sniped it out of the air right now luck she was duck hunting. Stupid fucking rules.

She held her sniper in her hands, occasionally glancing up at the camera that videoed her so graciously in the pouring rain. She sneered at the thought that people were watching her suffer. It was one thing to suffer alone, but another to have people laugh at you as you suffer. Maybe, though, people were cheering for her? There was someone out there watching and rooting for that dark haired assassin with the sniper? It seemed unlikely, and Dawn didn't care too much if they were rooting for her. This was for money, simple as that, but something else dug into her. She felt like there was more of a reason, but she didn't want to admit it. Was it Rogue's death? Was this simply an outlet for her anger; or, was it Dust and Shinmen? The two of them gladly accepted her as a friend without much of an argument which was completely contrary to her past. There were so many questions that lingered in the assassin's head, but still would she continue on and see the end of this hellish island so she could answer those questions.

Dawn from E7 to E9

[Malon]

"These two..." Malon said. "Archer and Cell. They were accompaigned by another one, named Graowr. Do you see her anywhere?"

"No. I would say that she's in hiding, but from the footage and what information I have on her she's not the type to go for such subtle approaches. It could be that those two told her to, however."

"The field is a little open to be daring sneak attacks..."

"There are Primes capable of turning themselves invisible. It's possible that she can do so as well. If you stay close to me you'll be fine though - I'll sense her if she comes too close."

Archer and Cell had seemingly not noticed them yet so Malon swapped the bandana for Illidan's blindfold again, taking on the appearance of the Scourge of Darkshire. It may net her an edge in the fight to come if she confused the other two Primes, and in the worst case they'd see through her, which wouldn't bring any big disadvantage. Now if only she could still conjure those green demonblades that he had used... she tried but they didn't appear in her hands. Same for summoning a fireball. The effect must've worn off or something.

"Are we going to approach them in the open and give them the option to run away or to fight us over the drop?" she asked.

"That's the plan. Those two - or three if Graowr is with them - aren't the type of people to withdraw from a challenge though. Chances are that we'll be fighting them."

"What if others want in on the drop?"

Tearen stroked his chin. "This other man, Dust, could still be lingering around after his recent battle, and I don't know how many more Primes are hiding in the mountains. We can't exclude the possibility. Although it is possible that some of them will opt to ally with us, and the more fighters we get, the better. A big battle will draw more attention from the cameras."

"Hmm. Listen, about that Dust person..." She pointed towards the two opponents that were still oblivious to them. "And those guys. It's possible to eliminate them from the fight if they get injured badly enough without killing them, right? If we can cover our backs this way, I can live with the compromise. And being merciful... it would get you the sympathy of the people that watch us, right?"

"That is possible... though if we accidentally kill someone they will still return."

Malon shot him a glare. "Emphasis on accidentally, right?"

Tearen gave her a mild smile. "Of course. I'll do my best, you have my word."

"Good. Just another thing... before we enter the fight, could I have a piece of you? A hair, a strand of your clothes, anything."

"What are you planning?" Tearen asked though he could guess it.

Malon grinned. "It'll be a lot scarier for our opponents if two Tearens step into the arena than just one, right?"

No movement - still at E10 with Tearen!

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face 

(E10 Item Drop)

Tearen Wover & Malon vs Cell & Sterling Archer

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

Post order is Tearen - Cell - Malon - Archer

Your time starts... now~!

[Tearen Wover]

Tearen walked idly along the shoreline at the foot of the salty cliffs. Of all the places to drop a small, obscure package, this had to be equally if not more difficult than sifting through jungle detritus. Jetsam and scraggly bushes covered the pebbly beach, and a line of low, dark mangroves clung resilutely to the edge of the rocks that towered upwards. The beach in and of itself was about thirty yards from forest to surf, and stretched off into the northern and southern mist. The eldritch human picked his way along the drift wood, poking and prodding around for any sign of some displaced Syntech merchandise. A lone crow called balefully in rhythm with the hissing waves.

Suddenly, the elder Prime stumbled; his leg was stuck on something. When Tearen looked down, he saw that his leg was, in fact, ensared by a thick, green tail. In the next moment, a towering greeb abomination burst out of the grit of the beach and wrapped him tightly in a constricting grasp. Cell relished the wheezing sound the allegedly legendary Prime made as he pulled his tail tighter.

"Ha ha ha! Sso. Seemss the Sslayer iss a little cocky! Thought you could ssneak up on us eh? If catching you wass thiss eassy, your little bitch should be trivial." Cell hissed, pulling Tearen closer to his face. The elder Prime spoke through gritted teeth.

"She might...ngh...surprise you." he managed, before Cell constricted him tighter. As if to answer this boast, a clatter of reports rang out from the treeline, and the incessant cawing came to and end. Archer stalked out from the mangroves a minute later, MP40 in one hand and a crow struggling by the neck in his other.

"Fun fact..." the agent said, tossing the wounded corvus into the damp gravel, "...American crows such as this bird have a much different call from the European Carrion Crow that it was imitating. When your milkmaid resurrects, tell her to get some singing lessons." the drunkard explained, before leveling his submachine gun at the bird. Tearen's eyes widened, as did Cell's.

"I thought you were going to sstay out of ssight!" the petulant hybrid whined. Archer shrugged unapologetically.

"I wanted to see this ponytail dumbass up close before he gets stuck in your rectum." Archer quipped, raising an eyebrow as he glanced back at his ally. Now that he thought about it, it was a pretty stupid tactical decision that he wouldn't have made under normal circumstances, but they had basically already won. Cell emitted a gutteral clicking noise before sighing.

"Whatever. Let'ss jusst kill them and get the package."

"Sure."

When Archer looked back at the spot the wounded crow should have been, it was gone. He looked up at the tree line to see a trio of green eyes staring back at them.

"Uh shit. That isn't your boy, hotpants." Archer called over his shoulder. Cell hazarded a glance, but before he could see what the smarmy socialite was talking about, the insectoid felt his captive wriggling. When he looked back, there was a knife coming for his remaining eye. The hybrid's preternatural instincts saved him from losing his remaining sight, but there was still a serrated blade in his face. He gave the now-revealed Malon one last crushing squeeze before dropping her and focusing on withdrawing the weapon. Archer took aim at the looming Shadow, but both Primes were abruptly overcome with a crushing feeling of weight.

Finally, to add injury to insult, a ring of shimmering black prisms manifested in the air above the snared duo. There wasn't even time for expletives before a storm of golden energy-threads began to cut into Archer and Cell's bodies. The crushing gravity relented, but they were a long way from any sort of cover on the exposed beach, and the scalding onslaught just kept coming.

"Dammit, this was supposed to be our ambush!" Archer said as he scrambled for a pile of boney driftwood. Cell ran alongside him, and hissed.

"No, thiss wass ssupossed to be YOUR ambush! I wanted to kill them right away, but noooo..."

...

Meanwhile, Tearen watched with a bemused smile as he his Aspects harried and blasted the panicking Primes. The bullets lodged in his shoulder were an unexpected complication, but overall, he was pleased with the results of this gambit. Malon rejoined him in the bushes, panting and clutching her ribs. That tail was no joke: she was pretty sure something in her was broken. For the moment, though, they had some time to prepare for the inevitable furious backlash. As tempted as Tearen was to tell them to retreat, he knew that such an action would likely just provoke an expedited reprisal. Better for Malon and himself to remain calm and quiescent.

Malon entered battle disguised as Tearen with Shapeshift
Tearen entered battle in Corvidae
Cell ensnared Malon with Tail and began to crush her.
Archer shot Tearen down with MP40
Tearen used Obsessive Complex Insertion to attract Archer to Malon in disguise.
When Archer looked away, Tearen used Quantum Uncertainty and shifted to his default Form.
Malon stabbed Cell with Tactical Knife while he was distracted.
Cell retaliated with a stronger crush before dropping her.
Tearen used Gravity Distortion to pin Cell and Archer while he summoned his Aspects of Divinity, which began ripple firing Particle Energy Conversion beams at them.

Tearen will spend 4 SP to maintain Aspects of Diviniy for the entire round.

Curret SP 3/9

[Handsome Jack]

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!'” I exclaim, the familiar burn of electricity all but forgotten under a wash of adrenaline and pain. And here I thought we were gonna have a nice, easy time slapping around Joel and Ellie. But, NOPE! Dude's played us hard and now me and my caucasian pal are stuck dodging a veritable downpour of laser blasts. Well, TRYING to, at least. Individually, the crystals ain't much more than annoying, but together they're huge pains in my tail.

Soooo, right now we are getting fucked worse than Karl at the Dante's Abyss after-party. We gotta get into some cover like yesterday. An idea comes to me and I grab hold of Archer's belt in one green hand and grin.

“Tighten your ssphincter, pal!”

“Wait... wha-AAAAAAAA!” my pal exclaims as I kick it into overdrive, crossing the rocky beach in a blur, making a bee-line for the copse of trees nearby. Sure, the Boogey Man and Conny the Bra-barian are over there, but so is relative safety from the laser-shooting prisms dick-weed summoned to attack us.

Brambles explode outward in a shower as I crash through shrubbery lining the treeline, and my perception grinds to a crawl. My head turns, my one good eye catching sight of ol’ Blacky (I swear I'm not racist) and his Generic Fantasy pal. Ki coalesces in my free hand, a sinister smirk twisting my beak.

Suddenly, face full of tree!

“Ow! Goddamit!” I shriek, holding my beak and growling. “Fuucking depth precception!”

Sonuvabitch… so now, not only am I missing an eye, but the bitch put a knife in my face and my viridian blood is obscuring my vision. I can't fight like this. Archer groans on the ground next to me. Fortunately, he avoided smashing into anything, but the fall to the ground wasn't kind to him. Even less kind is the fact that the prisms are STILL shooting at us. Apparently FUCKING TREES ain't shit to these things, their beams tearing holes through the foliage.

“Uh... they're literally SHOOTING THROUGH THE TREES!” my pal, shouts scrambling to his feet.

“I KNOW!!” I reply in frustration.

“Okay! Time for Plan B,” I interject.

“...What's Plan B?” Archer asks nervously.

“Improvisse!”

I wrap my tail around his waist, hoisting him (with quite some effort, I might add) onto my back as I assume a quadrupedal gait.

“Fuuck! How much do you weigh, Lard-Ass?” I grunt irritably.

With a wry grin, Archer retorts, “I'll have you know that I'm a lean, trim American machine, buddy.”

“Yeah, and I'm NOT a weird bug-man.”

“Shut up, man! That kinda thing could hurt a guy's feelings!”

“Fuck your feelin-”

I'm cut short not by the tingle of electrical energy passing through me, but by the sudden appearance of a bitch-ass crystal. For his part, Archer shoots me a glare while the black dodecahedron shoots him a burning blast of light. I literally leap into action, the attack singing the spy's gorgeous brown hair instead of putting a hole in his skull.

“Ha! Natural one, biiiiitch!” I screech in triumph.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. It'ss a nerd thing. You wouldn't undersstand.”

Archer let's it go and asks the super obvious question, “So... your plan is to let me ride you? I mean, that's cool and all, but at least buy a guy dinner first.”

“Look pal,” I begin, weaving to and fro through the sparse (and quickly growing sparser) stand of trees. “Right now, my vission is proper fuuucked. And you're sslower than Goku adding two and two. Sso, ass much ass I hate to ssay it, yess. I need you to ride me. Those aaaaasssholess think they got ssome dope teamwork? Well, wait til they ssee thiss shit!”

We burst from the trees back out onto the beach like some bad-ass white knight. Except, you know… I'm not a horse and Archer definitely ain't no knight. Secret Agent Fatso is slowing me down, but I'm still pushing as hard as I can. Can't keep it up for long though. The strain is killing me.

“Cover me!” I shout to Archer. Dual machine guns spring into existence in his hands, the dude laying down suppressive fire on the floating crystals. They might just be some kinda magical rock, but they're smart enough take evasive action under the downpour of lead.

“I take it back!” Archer says gleefully. “You can let me ride you any time!”

Unfortunately, I don't have time to join him in his revelry. I spot our foes again, barely visible through the murky blood clouding my vision. Time to end this. Crouching so that I can use my hands without bucking my partner, I hold my hands out to the sides and gather ki in each palm. Bringing them together, I launch my attack.

“FINAL FLASH!!!”

Somewhere close to 800 Words, according to Google Docs.

Cell used Burst Movement to get the the trees to hide.

Cell TRIED to use a Ki Blast on Tearen, but he used Temporal Jaunt and I was sent into a tree. Cell blames it on poor vision, not knowing the truth.

Cell and Archer are faux-Fusing by letting the dude ride my back.

Burst Movement back into the open since trees are not-laser proof.

Archer summoned 2 MP-40s and is laying suppressive fire on the Aspects of Divinity.

Cell used Tier 1 Super Move: Super Ki Beam on Tearen.

1/2 SP remaining

[Gildarts]

Illidan trudged behind the first two as the bars of trees and their mangled stumps passed him by. Inch by inch, foot by foot. This was proving to be a long day. They’d left the safe house after a small meal of scavenged human garbage and now the mighty Scourge of Darkshire was demeaned with defeat and now was stuck looking at the mutt’s sloppy feet as they padded over the trail. They went single file through the forest. Gildarts first, the newcomer who wore a name Illidan wasn’t willing to taint his tongue with, and Illidan himself.
 
Three's company. Of course, so was two when he thought about his twin brother and Tyrande. Together. Then the thought of her helped him escape. Her stunning fel features and glowing smooth skin appeared before his eyes. He had always admired her beauty, seen her every corner as perfection. Illidan let the memory engraved image of her sit there for a while, it had brought him solace in that dark prison, and here too, on the island that murder was deemed “fun.”
 
Dust’s pace was slowing and he looked like he was the youngest of the three, which meant his pace should be the fastest. That he should be pushed the hardest so as to train how to fight and win. Illidan was flung from the image of Tyrande and into the lycan’s back. His head was taller than the dark elf’s (at least in this form) and the sorcerer nearly got a mouthful of the man’s sable hair, which frankly smelt a lot like soaking wet dog.
 
The dark elf growled, careful to not let forth any words past his lips without strategy. Gildarts was right. There was power in numbers, especially when they’d lost their last fight by just a hair. Well, the mutt seemed to have plenty of it.
 
But it was Gildarts who had stopped first, extending his organic hand horizontally so as to not let either of those behind him pass.
 
“Illidan, what do you make of this?” Gildarts called out. Finally, the Betrayer rejoiced, Something useful to do.
 
There was a layer of radiating ectoplasmic goo across the pathway, spreading out for beyond miles. Illidan smiled, this wasn’t an elven relic, but it was close enough. The sorcerer pushed past Dust with a silent aura of triumph and stood by Gildarts’ side. Then he knelt down to get a closer look.
 
He wasn’t ready to stick his fingers in it just yet but from what he observed, it smelt somewhat like mineral and sulfur, it pulsed a faint glowing green, and it covered the next small small portion of land much like a famine of locusts. It was splattered along trees in unparticular patterns, some bits of bark glowed and the other bits appeared to look especially dull in comparison.
 
“It looks like a trail,” Dust identified, eyeing Illidan and careful not to step on his paws.
 
“Do you think it’s from… That thing?” Gildarts seemed even more curious. Illidan kept them waiting in suspense. The most important often gathered all avenues of information and spoke last.
 
There it was again. Gildarts mentioning something without a name. Dust was perplexed, but learned by loyally watching the two, as though sitting in the shadows and waiting for their secrets.
 
“It’s not magic in origin, however it does seem to have properties of it.” Illidan stood tall and spoke to Gildarts, Dust was there next to the mage and Illidan also informed the tag along reluctantly of his conclusion, “It is likely it did come from that creature, which is why you should have squashed it like a bug when you had the chance. However, there’s more to these forests than we know, and I can only say that the type of creature this came from would likely be a threat. Sulfur-infused plasma like this might burn flesh, but leave forest life and trees standing.”
 
The corner of Dust’s cheek turned upward into a half-smile. He’d been right, it was some sort of trail. And whatever it was, it either puked out that garbage or was colossal in size. Nothing he wanted to face. Hopefully the others would see it as a waste of time too. Illidan turned on a dime and started to walk parallel to the affected areas, leading their way around it. A wave of relief washed over Dust, because the two strong magic-wielders weren’t quite crazy enough to go and track this thing down. Then again, Dust was up for a challenge and instead of being very eager to against them, he was even more thrilled at the idea of battling by their side.
 

Gillidan and Dust (neutral) are moving from B12 to E1

[The Future Warrior]

In good time, the majin and the mercenary left the fog-shrouded city behind them. And as they did, the path began to grow increasingly more steep. Just a gradual incline at first, but quickly growing more and more treacherous and a literal uphill climb. For her part, Graowr was ecstatic about this entire prospect. Not just getting out of the city and having somewhere new to explore, but for having another reason added to her already boundless list of reasons to do well in this contest and see more of the island.

At first she'd just been here because she thought it would be fun. That there would be a lot of fighting, and the chance to meet a lot of strong people, maybe make some new friends. And she'd certainly accomplished at least part of that. People like Cell and Archer were definitely strong enough, in the whole grand scheme of the Omniverse, and then there were people like Isaac and Gamzee, and...well, maybe to a lesser extent, Jak and Tony back at the preshow facility, before they'd all been taken to the island. She'd even gotten to run into Zedd again, even if it was only for what seemed like a few seconds. It was definitely a fun time, even if it wasn't what she expected.

She hadn't come here to win. She was almost positive that she was nowhere near strong enough for that. She'd just come here to take part and enjoy it, test her strength. But now...now it was starting to seem like maybe she'd misunderstood the rules. There was a lot of fighting, but it seemed like most of it she was missing out on. It was supposed to be in the arena, when people were picked at random to duke it out up there, but apparently people kept ambushing each other, setting up fights over items or just to get them out of the way, down here on the island. That was just all kinds of uncalled for, and it was weakening people's chances of a good, fair fight! That was just all kinds of silly!

But for all the confusion and lack of getting to participate in what she'd come here for, well...it was still fun. She'd gotten to meet a bunch of new people, figured out how to work the dataverse better and even managed to make some new friends there, AND she'd run into God Enel! An actual god! It wasn't a surprise that they were here, of course, but still. Now she had an all-new objective: she wanted to win all the more. If God Enel was anywhere near as strong as Lord Beerus, then he would definitely be really, really strong. And that meant he would be a really, really good person to fight. And the only way to guarantee that was to ensure that both of them made it to the end, so they could fight to see who came out the winner of this competition!

Yeah. That was a good plan. It was a good motivation.

Dawn was fairly certain she had no idea what the strange little blue alien-creature was so happy about as she trudged after her, along the slippery, rocky path up into the mountains. Again.

Graowr and Dawn moving from C3 to E5

[Karl Jak]

End Day 3 - Afternoon

Start Day 3 - Evening (6pm to midnight)

[The Humble Sage]

He could see them on the hill. The three figures, two familiar and one he did not recognize were standing resolutely in the rain, watching his progression out of the Deadzone. The Sage did not stop his travel. The sun was nearly set, and the beeping of his collar was growing more and more insistent. His path led him directly towards the trio that waited on the foothills. Even from the distance he could not mistake the billowing cloak of Gildarts, nor the quite unique blades that the demonhunter sported. He did not recognize the third member of the watching group, but the fact that the other two allowed him to travel with them meant that there was likely something more to the man than he appeared on the surface.

There was no point trying to avoid the confrontation. Despite the distance, he was travelling across a sodden field, and must have been quite easy to spot from afar. They had his trail, and even if he tried to skirt the edges of the deadzone to evade them he highly doubted his ability to escape warriors that capable. If they had wanted to, the three of them could likely have waited in ambush, catching the Sage unawares while he stumbled away from certain death. The fact that they had chosen to announce their approach gave him some hope that he might at least be given a fair fight in the exchange.

The aging man slowly ambled his way out of the deadzone, away from the idyllic countryside and back to the much less friendly hills that ran the length of the island. He grumbled a bit at Karl’s choices of which zones to keep, but at this point he was just too wet and tired to care much any more. The Sage marched up the hill, mentally preparing for whatever those at the top were planning.

Sage moves from A12 to E1…hey guys, whatcha doin?

[Gildarts]

So this was life on the road with Dust’s fellow Primes!
 
First, Gildarts somehow landed himself inches from a grizzly bear crossing their path which, spotting the red-haired mage immediately stood up on two feet. Nature’s version of intimidation. It was taller, and had a significant amount of more hair. It was about to strike a claw down when Illidan threw a ray of green magic, slaying it in one shot. It was almost comical when the bear’s heavy body collapsed on Gildarts and his chainsaw.
 
This fresh bow of weight in the mammal’s knees took Gildarts off guard. He’d been ready to punch, not brace. The brown bear had done nothing wrong, except be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now it lay crumpled on top of the silver-armed mage. “Illi-n… M-m-m-mrphh, mr-phhh!” it was impossible to understand to hear what the middle-aged prime was mumbling about from the muffling insulation of grizzly bark-colored fur.
 
“M-grm- MMM!” his silver hand thrust his highly valued chainsaw out first before lifting up the beast without a single ounce of help from Illidan. He’d slain it. Plus, Gildarts was better than that. Dust cautiously poked the carcass of the bear before helping lift it. The pinned prime weaseled his way out. Today was bad hair day number two.
 
Dust immediately burst out laughing, nearly dropping the bear’s foot directly on Gildarts’ back as he crawled out army style. He stood up with a huff and noticed Dust was smiling as he looked at him. It wasn’t uncommon for the Prime to inspire the youth of the next generation, however now that he was on his feet he felt the uneven weight of his muddled hair. The static from the friction and fur had caused an untidy mohawk to stick up like bright orange spokes from a carriage wheel. He had numerous spouts of antlers and glided his hand over his head to slick the strays back down.
 
His face didn’t show the common flush from embarrassment, but instead he was casual. Like a boxer, he took the punches he was prepared for to better help brace for the heavy hitting punches. Things like common amusement didn’t phase him, he’d likely seen it all before. Instead, he was more worried about the chainsaw on the ground. Common items like that could be crushed under the massive weight of the bear.
 
Picking it up, Gil confirmed it was intact and likely still ran. There were tufts of the bear’s fur caught in the silver teeth its chain. Illidan extended his hand, “I trust no one will mind getting a real meal in around here.”
 
Gildarts contained his internal horror, Illidan wanted Husky so he could chop the bear to pieces. This was going to get her all dirty with blood and it wasn’t raining anymore. Still, his stomach rumbled after their long ventures, plus, Gil had shared his food at the camp with Dust.
 
“Well? The limbs will be rigid if you wait any longer,” Illidan jived, almost playfully.
 
With a long, mournful look, Gildarts released his organic hand’s grip on her fine handle and waited for Illidan to RIP AND TEAR the bear.
 
….
 
It was dinnertime, what was on the menu?!
 
Bear steak!
 
Fresh cooked meat sizzled above at the makeshift fire. Illidan, despite his eye condition, was a craftsmen when it came to slicing up animals for parts, which should’ve been a red-flag, had the group not been so blind to their own hunger.
 
Gildarts took one long look at his gore-covered, beautiful Husqvarna chainsaw and contemplated renouncing his pescatarian diet for the hearty one of well-cooked bear flesh. His hunger won. The fire was green and of fel origin, since the branches were still damp from the drizzle that lasted longer than a day. The three of them dug into the well-cooked meat, Illidan had advised them to let it simmer a while to cook out any unwanted bacteria from the meat.
 
It was a good call, because when magical creatures were cursed you couldn’t always burn out the taste of bitter, but normal bears carried things like trichinosis. Gildarts didn’t have to know what that word meant to know it was likely something he didn’t want to get sick and die from.
 
Dust seemed like he had conversations on his mind, but couldn’t quite will himself to get there, especially with Illidan’s eyeless gaze constantly following him like the Mona Lisa but with x-rays. Other than that, it was kind of cool, hanging with the guys around a campfire and letting the scent of meat fill his nose. It made his mouth water and he was getting too eager not to take a bite.
 
They’d set it up over the fire in thin strands of meat and let their sticks hover like fish poles. Illidan was ‘smoking’ some meat because he said it was better for preservation, but when Gildarts tried to do what he thought it meant, his meat got immediately charred on the bottom side.
 
Male bonding. Chippendale bonding. Eating meat. This was the way men operated. Miss Malefactor rolled her eyes Don’t you have more important things to do than sit around and tell campfire stories as you burn your dinner?
 
Gildarts didn’t answer because each of them already knew the answer. Instead, he let his blackened meat cool before succulently taking a bite. A chewing bulge formed on Gil’s chipmunk cheek and it took him a good minute to shred the tough meat with his teeth before downing it.
 
Their stomachs were full and everyone had eaten and the fire was warm. The comrades were all around the fire. Gildarts was standing, his old man status meant sometimes it hurt for his leg to be idle for longer periods of time.
 
There was a single twitch of a branch that alerted the crash magic wizard to his feet, coming forth was a familiar face.
 
Instead of wanting a fight, which Illidan and Dust leapt to their feet expecting, Gildarts held up something glowing as a sign of peace in the middle of this godforsaken war. Humble Sage was no longer alone.
 

#lowkeydoomguyref <3 Gillidan and Dust grow close to a familiar face. Humble Sage.

[Dust]

Dust had very little characteristics it would see, but the mostly defined - other than his well-groomed muscles - was the good-humored smile that rarely left his face. It took some time to grace his face, but by the evening he was just as comfortable laughing and joking with them as he was sitting next to him. This must have bothered Illidian a great deal, how dare this mongrel feast with kings? But whatever code that passed through looks between the two while he wasn't looking kept the destructive magic at bay, and their new companion in the dark.

Although Dust was not that dense, he wasn't in any hurry to prove that assumption wrong. Besides, he had a feeling these two already knew he couldn't be stupid, but maybe even clever. Bold enough to stand up to them, which must have stirred something in the two, but persuaded easily enough not to fight because it was pretty lucrative on both sides of this coin.

He took to the food as well as you'd expect a hungry wolf would. It didn't bother him in the least that it wasn't the traditional kind of meat. It would always be better compared to his worse meal; most of a week with nothing but plain snow-cones. As he ravaged the food, careful to control his teeth from changing as he did, the other two swapped 'looks'. Maybe it was of concern, maybe it was of disgust. Maybe it was just Illidan blaming Gildarts in silent rage for inviting the welp while the human man dismissed his delusions.

Whatever the impression Dust was leaving, it was different for each man. "Too bad we don't have any marshmallows." He said after rubbing off the dirty bear juice from his mouth with a big grin. By now the ink and the squid's blood was gone, but the bruise remained ever present. His knuckle brushed along the still swollen curve of his whole cheekbone, as if the bone beneath the beastly mark may be injured in some minor way. It looked nasty as well, three different colors that seemed to also change throughout the day. They might even notice it visibly hurt him to grin, but his nature made him put up with it just to laugh at Gildarts' new hair style.

From his side of the campfire in his spare time, he was sizing the two up mentally, making profiles for them in his head. He was about to brave the question about Gildart's metallic arm, as it would seem no member of this group of men were without their scars when his ears picked up on the sound of twigs breaking under the weight of someone as they slopped through the soaked earth. Alerted by this he was up a fraction faster than Illidan.

The young guy might not look like he wanted to fight a moment ago, but he was ready at a drop of the hat by the looks of it, only to be reeled back by the slightly shorter man with red hair. Wolf barely held back the growing warning growl in his throat in the favor of the man who held out his hand to stop them. He watched silently as Gildarts smiled at the older man who appeared from the woods, and even offer him something. Safe passage?

Intrigued, Dust set slowly back into his seat. His dark gray eyes trained on the newest man and Gildarts. As he watched be began to draw conclusions, whether they were truthful or false, he came to the realization that his case with this man might not be all that special in fact. They hadn't swatted away or even left him behind in the safe house, even now they fed their stray!! But watching what it was they were doing with this new-to-him face, he wondered if Gildarts was just that sympathetic and good-natured.

He was reminded of Takezo and Dawn at that. How he himself had been willing to risk a team up with strangers he'd just met. Maybe he and the mage in front of him were in fact cut from the same cloth. It only gave his admiration for the man teeth to bite down on and not let go of. He had been ready to fight this man for that item, but now he found himself ready to fight beside him. Even learn from him. That is, anything the magic user could teach him that he didn't already know. Which he could only imagine being books worth..

[Gildarts]

Gildarts sighed. He was officially lost. Yes, in the blazing darkness of the forest and he couldn’t admit it. Not to Illidan, not to Dust. They already doubted his leadership skills and decisions, next it would be his sanity under siege (albeit rightly). A mutiny could occur any time now.
 
Though, Gildarts wasn’t in any way the set leader, he was just the one with the open Map App. Dust could’ve checked any time, but the young lycan’s eyes were staring at his glinting arm and looking keenly at the hollow leg below it. Illidan was only willing to touch the piece of Gnome technology if it had Nealaphh’s face on it. What a weird bunch.
 
“What about your past?” Gildarts asked, it was hard to tell how much time had gone by, but if measured in silence, there had been a long drawn out measure. The crash magic wizard had been aloof, and there was no shame in the tone of his voice when he’d mentioned his own defeat.
 
“What do you want to know?” Dust said, it wasn’t quite evasive, however it wasn’t quite welcoming either. One of those ambivalent responses, but they’d only just met, and trust was something to be earned.
 
A tricky question. Step on someone’s toes too early and their impression of you is wrecked. This wasn’t the point where you asked if your new ally had ever killed anyone in cold blood. Gildarts opted for a cop out question, “What is your favorite color?”
 
It was hard to tell if Dust thought his question lame, or just kind of a good bridge to their age-gap. Still, the kid smiled as though a little proud of Gildarts’ interest, “White’s my favorite color. It’s simple and the color of snow.”
 
“And it tends to accent whatever it is put next to,” Gildarts agreed, small talk. It was… Nice.
 
But not… Super effective, right Gildarts? She butted in.
 
Get out. I’m trying to have a conversation with Dust. Get to know him, you know? Gildarts objected.
 
“What’s yours?” Dust posed back to Gildarts.
 
To be honest, he’d never had the chance to think about it. Was it the color of the sky when he looked up from the road on his travels? Or the tattoo on his chest, emblazoned with the symbol of his guild. Or the color of the trees which he so often seemed to pass? Or… Was it the color of her eyes?
 
Gildarts had never really focused this much on a subject. He was intrigued, perplexed, and befuddled.
 
“Hmm.. I don’t know.” he said mysteriously, and walked on with a new challenge in his mind. What color would he pick over the others?
 

Gillidan and Dust move from B12 to E1. 

[Malon]

Thanks to Tearen’s helpful crystals Malon and he had had the time to withdraw and hide out for a moment. Tearen was just producing more of the medical items that he had already patched her up with previously, but now they were not given the time to apply them. To let him do so she had assumed her real appearance once again.

Suddenly he lifted his head as the crystals’ relayed information warned him of the incoming attack moments before the bipedal bug yelled “FINAL FLASSH!”

“Wha-“ Malon began but could not react. Tearen put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her backwards into the foliage then faced Cell. His body rapidly turned transparent, just in time to avoid the incoming beam attack. Malon could not see what happened after that because the bright light engulfed his body completely. Was he...

... no, she needed not to worry about Tearen. He wasn’t going to be phased by something like this. The bug-man, Cell, appeared to be focusing onto Tearen for now, but what about the other one? He was pointing two items at Tearen’s crystals, which were emitting light blasts from their front ends as well as loud explosion noises. Just like that vampire’s weapon, except these were bigger!

Wait, but... she could try to replicate Cell’s attack, right? How had he done it... she put her hands forward and gathered her strength in them, then thrusted them at Archer whose back was turned on her. “FINAL FLASH!” she yelled.

... and nothing happened. Not even a little beam of light escaped her hands.

Archer had just leapt behind a tree as his items stopped flashing and had ejected two metallic bars from the bottoms. As he pushed a new pair of bars into the sockets Malon’s shouted words drew his attention and he promptly aimed one of the two items at her. A smug grin crossed his face. Malon reacted more by instinct than because she knew what was coming and leapt behind a boulder while holding her waist, where the cracked rib was. One moment later the item began to flash and Malon heard the blasts again. What sort of magic is this? she wondered as she caught her breath. Her rib was hurting... but how could she treat it on the fly?

Archer began rushing from cover to cover to get to her while dodging the crystal’s light beams, and Malon noticed Cell. His attack had ended and he was currently tossing numerous orbs of light at Tearen who was in turn blasting them mid-air with his beam attack. Those two seemed to be on equal footing, but that wasn’t what interested her.

She had not yet tried to replicate a limb her normal body didn’t have, but there was a first time for everything, right? She tugged her underwear down beneath her skirt just enough to expose the necessary area above her butt, and grunted as her skin began to reshape and form itself. Her spine extended itself with a series of new bones as the new appendage, a lengthy green tail, emerged where her tailbone was. What a weird feeling! She shuddered and, lacking the time to learn how to move that thing, wrapped it around her waist by hand as a makeshift protection whilst lifting as little as possible of her skirt. The next moment Archer appeared on top of the rock, blindly pointing one of the two items at the floating crystals and the other one straight at her.

This time she rushed forward and smacked her palm upwards to make him miss, but she was a bit too slow. Pain erupted from her left arm as two shots landed before she hit Archer’s hand, which coupled with the recoil of the gun threw him off-balance. He reflexively dropped one gun to have a free hand, but it was too late: his right foot stepped on a patch of moss, he slipped and fell off the rock. Malon made a mad dash forward and grasped the item. He had used it by pointing it this way, right? And he’d passed his finger through that loop. How did he use it? It had to be something with his hand, right?

Archer scrambled to his feet and swiftly replaced the lost MP40 with a new one, summoned into his hand. Just in time, no less, to return fire on the crystals which were aiming at Cell and him again. Whatever happened to Cell Malon never found out because as Sterling unloaded both guns at one of the crystals, she pulled the trigger.

Her arms felt like they were being torn from the shoulders as the muzzle flashed thrice and the same number of bullets were sent on its course. Their destination: Archer.

798 words according to MS Word!

Combat log:

-Tearen dodges Cell's Super Attack using Matter Reassignment (T1 Super Defense) and shoves Malon out of the way so that she suffers no collateral damage.

-Archer is attacking Tearen's Assist Aspects of Divinity, with two MP40s (these are what Malon refers to when speaking of the "items" in his hands throughout my post)

-Malon attempts to use Cell's Super Ki Beam on Archer. Because she has no SP remaining, it fails!

-Archer reloads his empty guns and aims one at Malon. She hides behind cover so his shots miss. He starts advancing towards her while under attack from Aspects of Divinity.

-Cell is bombarding Tearen with Rapid Fire Ki Blast, Tearen is using Particle Energy Conversion to shoot the projectiles down.

-Malon uses Tail (Mimic'd from Cell) as a makeshift first aid for her cracked rib.

-Archer once again shoots his MP40s at Malon and lands two shots into her upper left arm. Malon is able to knock him off-balance and make him drop a gun, which she steals (with Mimic). Archer swiftly replaces said gun and fires at Aspects of Divinity.

-Malon uses MP40 against Archer. I leave it up to him whether or not she lands those hits.

[Karl Jak]

Day 3 has concluded

It is not Day 4, Early Morning (12 am to 6 am) until 430 PM CDT on June 27th

[Sterling Archer]

Three cracks rang out in staccato rhythm, clear as day over the gentle pitter-patter of rain and the occasional cussword howled by my buggy companion. Not a heartbeat later did I feel the sharp bite of a slug tearing effortlessly through the cartilage of my right ear. “Son of a BITCH,” I cried, eyelids slamming shut as the shrill ring of tinnitus mixed with the pain I already bore. There wasn’t enough vodka in the world to make this shit bearable.

Deep breath.

A cool head is a tactical advantage.

My eyes fluttered open as I glanced over my shoulder, the brunette battler taking aim from behind her boulder and hosing me sloppily with still more bullets. And with my own gun, no less.

Exhale.

“RAM-PAAAAGE!” I cried out, tossing my head back and screaming up into the soggy canopy as if invoking the storm itself. Bullet after bullet chewed into my shoulder as my right hand released the MP40, replacing it with a shotgun in one clean motion. I wheeled around, leveling and letting loose a pair of shells in a quick volley. Though my disheveled attacker was swift, she wasn’t able to flee the scene fast enough to avoid catching a healthy amount of buckshot. I owed her SO much more.

Sadly, the ebony magician’s black bullshit boxes made sure she’d have a relatively safe escape, piss-colored beams of light bearing down on me from oblique angles. The scorching rays obliterated the leaves, smoke rising in delicate wisps as the rain quenched the burning fronds in an instant. I swore through gritted teeth as they seared through my soaked turtleneck, blistering the skin beneath. Catching sight of the nearest, I swing my arm wide, spraying what remained of my magazine helter-skelter. Without a second glance I took off through the trees, feet crashing though detritus like a rampaging kaiju through the streets of Tokyo.

Finding Cell was a simple matter of following the sound of rasped screams and arbitrary explosions. Not far from the snarling bio-android was his quarry, Store Brand Ermac standing ominously among the trees as if he wasn’t currently being blasted with the roach’s chi nonsense. At the sight of my arrival he raised a single hand, an ornate pole arm appearing within his grasp. Because of course it did.

“Cover me, I’ll pay him back for thiss annoying prissm shi-IIIIIT,” Cell instructed, shaking off the shock and leaping from behind the tree to dash roughshod toward the magician. Even over the sound of my own gunfire I could hear the insectoid snicker as his prey flung his spear much too high, the blade end burying itself in a nearby tree. The insidious laughter promptly ceased as Cell found himself coming to an abrupt halt, his full weight lurching as if it had met a concrete wall. “-the FU-UUUUUCK is going on?!”

With the uninvited floaty cubelings now bringing their light show back in our direction, I clenched my jaw and sprinted past Cell, ignoring his cries for assistance. He’d likely figure out how to free himself in short order; I sure as hell didn’t have the time or patience myself to do so. No, my sights were set squarely on Mister Sinister.

“Continuing RAAAMPAAAAAAGE,” I cried, my bellowed warcry sure to clear up any confusion as to whether or not I still meant business. With expertise that came only from adrenaline and whiskey shakes, I managed to reload my shotty and MP 40 as I ran, holding the trigger on the latter as I performed my best approximation of Major Dutch. This wannabe was no Predator, but I’d sure as shit make him bleed.

I think not.

The words echoed in my head as I neared, the brilliant white eyes of the conjurer drowning out the rest of my world as an indecipherable onslaught of sounds and sights rampaged through my skull. Places, people, things I lacked the words to begin to describe. “Get out of my miiiiind” I cried, dropping my shotgun at his feet as he continued to mind-rape me with horrific imagery.

Resistance is...fruitless.

Just when my tolerance neared its limit, the agony ceased and the rainforest swooped back into view. Before me stood the shadow, now thoroughly staggered, smoke rising from his chest. From behind me I could hear the trademark cackling of my bio-android peer. “Eyes on me, blackie.”

Taking the chance, I charged forward and brought my gun down across his smug face with all the gusto I could grant, only to have my swing go wide as if being tugged by some outside force. Motherfucking telekinesis. I should have guessed.

Probably.

In an instant I retrieved my fallen gun, leveling it on the sneering abomination. “Oh, eat every dick, you creepy asshole.” I pulled the trigger.

799 words according to Wordcounter.net
Bolded Tearen's telepathic taunts to make it more clear.

Malon shot Archer in the ear, which pissed him off.
Archer used RAMPAGE! for this post 1/2 SP remaining.
Archer shotgunned Malon. Not a direct hit due to her being faster, but enough to deter.
Aspects scorch Archer with Particle Energy Conversion and distract so that Malon can escape.
Archer sprayed blindly at the Aspects.
Tearen used Enigma and Obsessive Complex Insertion (on Enigma) to pin Cell down with a Philia.
Archer gunned at Tearen and tried to shotgun, only to be hit with a Mind Surge.
Cell hits Tearen with a Ki Blast to draw his attention.
Archer attempts to pistolwhip but is deflected by telekinesis.
Archer attempts to shotgun.

[Tearen Wover]

Tearen commanded the fabric of space and time to bend itself just a fraction of a second too late for the first of the devastating blasts from Archer’s firearm. The sound was deafening, echoing up along the cliffs with a triumphant boom as the Shadow staggered backwards. His obsidian skin was extremely tough, but a point-blank blast from the twelve gauge was more than enough to cause a deep fracture in his stony shell. He didn’t want to consider what the wound would look like when he shifted back into human form.

Luckily, despite the shock to his system, the spatial rend managed to deflect the second blast from the sawn-off marvelously, to the point where Archer momentarily shielded his face, and only his face, from the violently ricocheting buckshot. Cell moved in, crashing through the damp underbrush in a spray of rain and moss. Tearen wasn’t having it, and channeled a well of telekinetic fury into an open palm. The hybrid monstrosity was ready for the riposte, and shunted energy into his own fist. The two extremities met in a flash of light and sound, sending both Primes launching away from the point of impact with a reverberating bang.

Archer raised an eyebrow as Cell soared past him back through the trees onto the beach, and then the other eyebrow when the imperfect bug shot back into the fray a half-second later.

“Keep your eyess on hiss ugly facce!” Cell hissed, gathering ki energy into both palms and lobbing it in Tearen’s general direction in a fusillade of yellow fire. The shotgun seemed to be a good bet against the weirdo, so Archer took some time to ignore Cell’s orders and reload it.

“Well, I mean, let’s be objective for a moment. Between the two of you I really think your face is the far uglier. I mean-oh.” Sterling said, looking up from his reloaded shotty to see Cell pointing, of all things, an MP40 submachine gun at him. The ensuing sustained fire was enough to send Archer scrambling behind a large tree with a few more bullet wounds from his own weapon. At this range, even Malon was a pretty good shot. Tearen walked up next to the disguised girl from where he had been laying, and glanced down at the smoking weapon.

“Starting to like that thing, are you? Also, watch who you’re calling ugly.” he hummed in a bemused tone as Malon’s body returned to its feminine state. Of course, her tail remained to assist with bracing whatever ribs had been broken by the authentic counterpart. Malon chuckled softly, and then cringed in pain.

“It’s called acting, and you know it.” She grinned, trying to fumble with a reload for a few moments before casting the MP40 away into nothingness.

“You need to get your own act, Sun Maid!” Archer barked from behind his tree. Between Malon’s copycat bullshit and the rag-shod asshat that was Tearen, he was pretty much totally pinned down behind the gnarled oak for now.

“Where is Cell, by the way?” Tearen asked, going back to back with Malon and extending his awareness into the boggy mangrove stand.

“He’ just…standing out there on the beach.” Malon said in a slow tone. Tearen turned slightly to see what she was talking about. To normal sight, yes, Cell was just staring in at them in a half-crouched stance, but it was off…hollow. There was no mind buzzing in that direction. Only too late, did Tearen pinpoint Cell’s actual position.

“Mal!” Tearen cried in the split second before Cell fell out of the leaf cover over their head, grabbed Malon by the throat and dragged her over to the same tree that Sterling was sitting behind. A shower of rain and leaves fell on all four Primes from the impact, and again when the bug-man took the liberty of nailing Malon’s copied tail to the trunk with his own barbed appendage. Despite the face that it was a copied limb, the pain was still real, eliciting a sharp shriek from the farm hand.

“I’m fucking done with your cheap knock offss!” Cell spat, allowing the ensuing electric punishment to wrack the girl’s body as well. The beastly insect indulged in a few sips of the artificial limb’s tissue before chucking her off to the side. He let out a low, hissing laugh.

“Nicce to know you sstill have your own taste though. Like the authentic, refreshing taste of Pepsi Cola, now in bitch flavor! Ahhahaha…” he chuckled, not even really giving a shit about the shocks at this point.

Tearen moved to rush to the fallen girl, but faltered as he coughed a spray of black blood. The bug’s wave of destruction from earlier had still evidently managed to singe his organs. The tables were turned…

If you need a breakdown of this post, just let me know but I'm short on time right now.

[Handsome Jack]

I stare hungrily over at our foes, who are looking pretty fucking rough after this latest skirmish. Uncle Tom seems barely able to keep his feet, and Avril Lavigne is struggling to get back up from where I threw her. Course, we weren't much better off. I had more holes in me than a Polish submarine, and Archer wasn't looking any better. Dude was bleeding from so many places, I was starting to wonder if he even had any blood left in him. Fortunately, the crystal annoyances that had been harrying me and my attractive friend had vanished after Tall, Dark, and Really Weird took that shotty blast to the face, so we had a moment of respite while they composed themselves.

I decide this is a good time to focus Papa Piccolo's healing abilities, and I THINK I feel a little better. Hard to tell with all the fucking pain. Reloading his weapons, Archer sidles over to me and whispers softly into my earhole, “Listen, pal. I think the chick is their weak link. Other than that knife she pulled on you, all she's done is copy what everyone else is doing. And ol' Midnight Rider seems real protective of her. So... here's the pla-”

“Shhh... Shhh... It'ss ok. We don't need a plan, pal.”

“What?!”

I smirk, my beak-mouth opening into a wicked crescent as I lower myself into a squatting stance, and reply, “Ssee... we tried the whole plan thing already. We were gonna ambush them good, remember?. And you ssee how that turned out. Now... now it'ss time to do thingss the Ccell way.”

“Oh god... Please don't tell me...”

With a sinister laugh, the motion making my polar-bear eye nod in agreement, I confirm his suspicions, “Yup. We jusst go out there and murder them like kittenss in a pool. Planss just take all the fun out of fighting.”

With all the talking we're been doing, Tea and Biscuits have finished their breather, the latter back on her feet. She summons the adorable little knife she stabbed me in the face with (this time with a friend), holding them in front of her defensively. Her Black Daddy reaches out with an open palm, his giant dildo-spear dislodging from its tree-sheath and returning to him. Good. They're ready. I'd hate to have killed them without a challenge.

“Sso here'ss our plan of attack... ATTACK!”

The last word is barely out of my beak-mouth before I dash towards little miss Technique Thief. God, the bitch is worse than Goku when it comes to stealing other folks' attacks.

Archer sighs and turns his attention towards Tearen. “I guess I'm dealing with the Moon Cricket then...” he says in resignation and earning a blank stare from the obsidian skinned fellow.

“Oh god. Was that racist? I'm so sorry!” Sterling says as he brings his MP40s to bear and unloads on the God-Mind, the latter stagger-diving to cover under the rain of lead.

“Wait... did I say 'sorry'? I meant, 'FUCK YOU'!”

At this point, Tearen PROBABLY retaliates and some epic fighting happens between him and Archer. But, let's be honest here: You don't care about that. You want the main event. So, let's jump right back into what I'm doing, shall we?

My green legs carry me over the forest detritus with powerful strides, quickly closing the gap between myself and the girl. She's ready for me though, swiping out with a knife as soon as I'm within reach, forcing me to pull my totally awesome punch or risk losing my hand. Very quickly, I find myself on the defensive as the cute little thing slashes wildly at me. I'm being pushed back under her furious assault, mostly due to the surprise that she's ACTUALLY faster than I am.

I can't help but to grin in-between the sparks of her steel clashing with my ki-infused carapace. She's a lot more interesting than I'd have given her credit for. Unfortunately, I can't just let her have ALL the fun. I lower myself under a haphazard attack, my hands curling into claws for a brief second before I lay into the girl with a flurry of rapid-fire punches, elbows, kicks, and... well, you get the idea. I use Wolf Fang Fist on the bitch. Bitches LOVE Wolf Fang Fist! Her knives are knocked aside, lost amid the foliage and dead-leaves, and she's backed against a tree by the end of my attack. I lean in close and deliver the finishing blow:

“You know...” I hiss softly into Malon's ear, licking my beak. “Oncce you and your papa are dead... I'm gonna drink you both. Don't worry though. It'ss jusst a brief moment of pain then you'll become one with me... become one with perfection.”

800 Words exactly according to OpenOffice.

Everyone takes a moment to recompose themselves.

Cell uses Advanced Regeneration to heal 1.4 damage (Yeah, I'm including the .4! That's a lot!) 0/2 SP remaining.

Archer reloads his MP40s.

Malon summons a couple of Tactically Deployed Knives.

Tearen pulls his Enigma back out of a tree with Telekinesis.

Cell uses Burst Movement to close on Malon.

Archer fires his MP40s on Tearen, causing the latter to run for cover.

Malon tries to cut me up good with her Knives, but I use Deflection to armor up.

Cell uses Wolf Fang Fist to out-speed Malon and knock her Knives away.

Cell uses "OH MY GOD WHAT A FUCKING CREEP" on Malon. It's super effective!

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage groaned, hand up to block the light of the dawn sun. Dejectedly, the middle-aged scholar sat up, glancing at the remnants of the camp where he had spent the night. He was still more than a little disappointed in the most recent turn of events. Though he had walked out of the encounter with his hide intact, taking nothing more than a single punch from the encounter with the trio, he had lost much in the exchange. Although his injured pride would heal in time, the Sage had just lost all of the progress he had made with his efforts the previous day. The Sage glanced with mild contempt at the two vials that Gildarts had given him in exchange for the artifact pieces. Neither he nor the crash mage could possibly have felt the two items equal in value, but the Sage could not exactly argue when the battle mage’s two teammates were but a shout away. The Sage rubbed his jaw slightly as he glanced at the bottles.

Gildarts had barely explained what they even did, but that was not especially surprising, as the majority of the words uttered by the massive mage seemed… distracted. Tearen spoke of the man with respect, but from what the Sage had seen of him so far, the war mage was at best a shadow of his supposed self, and at worst had been driven entirely mad by the extreme power that he possessed. Perhaps his deranged mind had prompted the trade? The Sage uncorked one of the bottles, downing its contents. He idly wondered if the battle mage had swindled him even further. He could just have easily given bottles of water or poison; the Sage would have had no say in the matter. No, that was precisely why the Sage could be certain that the elixirs were genuine. He drank the other one as well before something new interfered.

The Sage got to his feet, feeling revitalized both in body and in spirit. His newfound optimism was cut short by the irritating beeping of the collar. Karl Jak was continuing to shrink the playing field. The Sage got to his feet and began to march up the hill yet again.

Sage drinks both elixirs now to limit bookkeeping. 4/5 SP remaining.
Sage moves from E1 to E3. (why deadzones? why? let me be super busy in peace -_-)

[The Humble Sage]

The Sage marched along the ridge of foothills, although it was no longer raining, he still found the passage arduous. The Sage looked down as his tablet pinged in informing him that the little insect he had fought alongside had been slain. Though he was not entirely surprised, he himself had barely survived his encounter with Tearen and Gildarts, and he still suspected the former of taking steps to ensure his survival. The poor critter had gotten involved in something he probably shouldn’t have, and it had cost him his life.

The Sage would need to find new allies now, as it seemed that lone stragglers were being surrounded and picked off by the remaining alliances. Gildarts had made his position clear, and Wover had not struck him as a particularly reliable team member. It was disturbing to see how unstable many of the Omniverse’s supposedly most powerful defenders actually were. The fact that these people would be depended on in the most vital of moments was not something that made the Sage feel confident about the future…

He continued his lone trek across the hilltops, thoughts swirling as he progressed through the open landscape. He focused just on putting one foot in front of the other. As long as he was making progress, getting somewhere, than he could allow himself to indulge so heavily into his speculations. The collar on his neck continued to beep counting down again until it would detonate. He would not fall this way, he would die in battle or live. The Sage struggled, the wound in his side protesting sharply to his jostling. The foothills were giving way to more rocky slopes, and his footing was getting much less stable. Movement on these slopes would be difficult, he would need to be careful going forward.

Sage moves E3 to E5

[Malon]

„Become one with... your ugly mug?” Malon asked, bearing the grimace that was universal language for “Do not want.” “I’d rather lick Ganondorf’s boots than – well, actually…”

“Can I have ssome sseriossity here?! I’m about to-“ Cell began an angry tirade but was cut short when Malon attacked. Using his moment of arrogance she had pulled her Battleaxe out and brought it down on him with gusto. Only Cell’s reflexes saved his tail from being chopped clean off. The axeblade was lodged into the ground but Malon tugged it back out with both hands and lifted it before herself. Now she was smiling with mischief.

“You’re annoyed at that I copied you guys this much, aren’t you? Well, now I’ll show you a few of my own tricks!” Again she brought the axe down from above but Cell dodged the heavy weapon with ease now that he expected it, with a simple backstep, then another to the side when she followed up with a stab at his leg. But then his leg slipped on a bunch of loose gravel and he was forced to deflect her next two attacks. The brutish weapon in the hands of the fast girl gave him no choice.

“Antiquated weaponss!” he hissed as Malon lowered her weapon. “I’ll finissh you!” He leapt closer and punched at Malon’s right side. She dodged towards the left but he’d anticipated that. He reared his other fist and threw it forward while blocking her escape path with his left arm and keeping their bodies too close to each other for her to use her axe again. But then Malon raised her left arm and hardened her skin. Cell’s punch was blocked. Before he could question it a loud crack resonated through the area and Malon was knocked back. Archer had used the window of opportunity to blast her with his shotgun -with surprisingly little effect.

“You’re fighting me!” Tearen yelled as he stabbed Enigma at its highest range at Archer. “Eyes on your opponent!”

“Your fault for cowering behind a rock, cyclops!” Archer replied and laughed whilst he hurriedly reloaded the shell he’d just fired.

“A cyclops is- ah, nevermind…” grunted Tearen as he took another series of stabs at his opponent. They were swiftly out of sight again, continuing their fight.

Cell turned back to Malon who was just getting up. She was bleeding from a number of shallow wounds on her left arm and shoulder and one on her chin, but after being hit from up close with a shotgun that was far from what she should’ve ended up as. “You ssaid you were going to…”

“Did I?” Malon asked. Her provoking smile was more forced than before. The numerous injuries were hurting, especially her cracked rib. “Well - I lied. Useful trick you got there.” That “trick” may have saved her life, actually. Had Archer waited for just a split second longer the Deflection on her arm would’ve worn off and his shotgun would have torn her skin off its bones… not to mention that she hadn’t even noticed him approaching. Cell had kept her attention focused on him. Had she not used Deflection against his punch, things would’ve looked ugly for her.

“Sso you’re going to fight dirty?” The part of him that could be called lips curled into a smile. “Two can play at thiss game.”

“Looks like so!” She replaced the Battleaxe with her two Hylian Sickles. Cell would be expecting the slow attacks, better switch to something a bit faster. When he didn’t reply and simply grinned at her she went for an attack, hoping to provoke him into attacking. She had not anticipated for him to be tricking her though – her two sickles went straight through what she realized too late was an After Image! The next moment Cell’s tail hit her square in the back and she was smacked to the ground. He laughed and repeated the trick when she stood up. Three new After Images were before her.

“You can’t win thiss game, little girl”, Cell’s voice hissed - it seemed to be coming from everywhere. “You can’t copy my After Imagess, not with your cracked rib. And ass ssoon ass you turn your back…”

He was right – she could not madly dash around the battlefield in her current state. However, what if she…

…

After a little while two images dissolved, leaving only the real Cell. “Interessting… you knew I wass among my lookalikes?”

“I guessed it.” She raised the sickles again. “Attacking them would just have earned me another tail smack.”

“Ssmart girl… your face will be all the more deliciouss to look at when I drink you.”

And there was that grimace again.

787 words in MS Word!

-Malon is not amused at Cell's creep factor. She counters by trailing off! Cell is not amused either.

-Malon attempts to chop Cell's tail off with Battleaxe. He dodges! She follows up with a few more hits.

-Cell deflects two hits with Deflection. He follows up with two punches and invades her personal bubble for good measure.

-Malon uses Mimic'd Deflection to block Cell's punch and (unintentionally) Archer's Sawed-Off Double Barrel Shotgun. Still takes some damage from the latter.

-Tearen thrusts his big, long spear at Archer! It misses and he follows up with more stabs. Archer reloads his Sawed-Off Shotty.

-Malon summons her Hylian Sickles and tucks away her Battleaxe. She proceeds to attack.

-Cell uses After Image (it takes Malon's last hit) and hits her in the back with his tail. He proceeds to use After Image twice more and hides among the lookalikes.

-Malon lets the After Images time out.

-Cell finishes with more being-creepy-ness. Malon's getting real tired of his antics.