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(Pre-Show) The Barracks

Ganondorf watched the young girl wander off with stunned silence. A strange one, she was. From her ability to remove her own head, to just her mannerisms… even in the normally in-control Gerudo, she was able to elicit some genuine amusement. For all of this Guu’s unusual behavior and physiology, however, Ganondorf found himself envious of the girl. Not for her abilities, and the Gerudo chuckled at the thought for none were his equal, but her adaptability to the Omniverse. This Dataverse that she had shown him… such an invaluable tool. If only the King had known of it before now. His knowledge of this world was sorely lacking, something which grated on his ego. Now though… that would change.

Before Ganondorf could act upon his new knowledge and create a gateway to the Dataverse for himself, something bumped into him from behind. Irritated by the interruption, the long-haired behemoth turned to see what sort of being had the gall to run into him and was met with the sight of a scrawny boy in a straw hat. A bit put-off by the kid’s appearance, Ganondorf could only dismiss his apology off-handedly (and a bit condescendingly), to which the boy replied with a demonstration of his abilities. The great King nearly sighed in exasperation at the showboating, and to make matters worse, Guu chose this time to make a reappearance and call him the “Dark Lord”, also demonstrating an ability similar to the boy’s, who introduced himself as Straw Hat Luffy, or some other such silliness. It was a fitting title, of course, but it annoyed Ganondorf that he would be seen that way so easily. In this world, he had attempted to hide his true nature... yet he supposed that his confrontation with Gilgamesh, and those stories he had seen about himself floating around the Dataverse were to blame. It seemed that his life was much more well-known than he had thought. Irksome, true, but also a boon. It was something which Ganondorf could use in his favor. The better known he was, the more likely the populace would be to flock to him when he crooked his finger. Still… that story about him and Enel was particularly unsettling. The two of them romantically entangled? The great King snorted. Impossible.

Mentally dismissing the two rubbery people, for the moment, Ganondorf turned his gaze to Link. The boy was watching the room, his eyes surveying the occupants as a warrior would an opposing army. A reluctant warrior, from the almost sad gleam to his eyes, but a warrior resigned to his fate. The Gerudo King made a note to give Link a bit of a pep-talk once they arrived on the island proper. Doubtless, the Hero would have reservations about the nature of the contest, and Ganondorf couldn’t allow Link to hold back when doing so might mean both of their deaths. While he knew that death here wasn’t permanent, it was no less unpleasant for its brevity. Of course, thoughts of his death began to lead to thoughts of what happened after, of Firani. The Gerudo quickly made to distract himself from that line of thought. What he had to do still hurt him and he couldn’t allow those emotions to distract him from this contest. It would be no better than allowing Link to act the hero; a weakness to be exploited. So, Ganondorf set to creating himself a means in which to access the wealth of knowledge upon the Dataverse. His hands held before him, Omnilium began to form in a ball between them. At first, he had considered a device like Guu’s, but the strangeness of it had confounded the Gerudo. Instead, he decided to go with something more familiar.

The pearlescent orb in Ganondorf’s hands slowly took shape, edges forming and sides flattening. The colors stabilized to a light green color, and it took on a crystalline sheen. Soon, Ganondorf held a simple rupee in his hand. The familiar sight also caught Link’s eye and the boy asked him, “A rupee? What’s it for, Ganondorf?”

The Gerudo smiled at his creation, not bothering to look at Link, and stated, “It’s our gateway to knowledge.”

The Demon King grasped the gem in one hand, activating the device. Light shone forth from its interior, creating a holographic display above the gem. Hylian runes replaced the words Guu had shown him, both for ease of Ganondorf’s use and to prevent any aside from himself and Link from being able to understand what was on it. But, and this was important, it worked via speech commands, rather than that strange tapping which the girl had used. The Gerudo’s smile deepened.

"I don't know." Desco lost interest in the heroish looking guy and looked back at her dataverse device. But soon her device lit up with the face of her father. "Hello Desco!" "Hi Daddy!" As usual Desco started to get excited at the appearance of her father. She always liked seeing him, just like seeing Big Sis or Mr. Valzy. "I was just calling to check in. How are things? DesX tells me you were accepted as a contestant.""Yes! Desco is trying to find her friend right now but she hasn't found her yet." "I see I see, well I'm afraid I can't help you there. But DesX also told me you were experiencing memory loss. That is troublesome.." Genjuro hadn't counted on Desco's memory loss in his calculations on her experimentation. It changed how she would react in some situations. "Yes, Desco didn't remember that she took over Earth with Big Sis!" "We will have to try and resolve that when you get back to lab after this game finishes up. You went through a lot and I don't want you to forget that time." Desco nodded, she didn't want to forget things either.

Genjuro started to explain what had happened in the gap in Desco's Memory that DesX described in the short version. Not long ago Desco and Fuka had gone to the Netherworld with the Angel of Avarice and robbed the Netherworld bank in an effort to get enough HL to buy Fuka's reincarnation. Desco shivered at what happened next, as she hadn't yet actually dealt with these emotional issues. But this soon led to Desco's self cloning mechanism activated to deal with Fuka forgetting about Desco when she reincarnated. Desco and Fuka fought and defeated Torn Desco. But before Fuka reincarnated with the money they had stolen, she decided to go take over Earth with Desco as Desco was designed for. So they went to Earth, killed all of Earth's defenders including EarthX who was DesX redesigned. But because they did this, Fuka was barred from Reincarnation.

Desco was relieved to hear that Fuka hadn't reincarnated after all, so she never forgot Desco and is probably still out there in Hades somewhere. However, there were more immediate concerns. "Be a good girl now Desco and try your best. It won't be easy surviving inside Dante's Abyss but I believe in you""Yes Daddy! Bye~" The interface closed, just as Desco looked up to see a big tall guy in black armor with red hair and oddly colored skin. He looked like a good guy, at least not human if not a Demon, for Desco to ask for help since she hadn't found Guu yet. Desco walked up to big tall guy and tapped him on his elbow. "Hello, I'm Desco. Desco is looking for someone named Guu, she is a girl and wears a pink dress and yellow scarf. Have you seen her mister?" Desco looked up at Ganon's face with imploring eyes.

Deactivating his Dataverse Device by relaxing his grip on the Rupee, Ganondorf had just stowed it into a belt pouch when a tapping at his elbow and a high-pitched voice drew his attention. Golden eyes, much like a wolf’s, sought the source and found yet another little girl. Strange that so many children were not only in this competition, but seemingly interested in competing in the first place. Didn’t they have dolls to play with, or some other playtime activity to engage in? Ganondorf fought down an exasperated sigh before it could break free of his lungs and smiled down at Desco, as she called herself. Like Guu, this one was strange, only in a different way. Innocent. That was the only word that came to mind that would describe this young one. Her pointed ears and purple hair could be overlooked, but such innocence in this violent competition stood out more than Ganondorf did amongst the Kokiri.

Lips curling in a polite smile, Ganondorf lowered himself to a knee before the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Guu? Yes, I know of her. I had actually just met her myself.”

Desco’s eyes practically lit up in excitement at his words, but his next put the girl into a pout.

“Not that it’s any of my business, young one, but what are you doing here? You don’t seem the type for such a bloody contest.”

The Gerudo didn’t know why he even cared about the girl. A weak combatant like her would be easy pickings on the island, making his victory all the more assured. But, he DID care… and perhaps it had to do with Firani. He couldn’t protect the Gerudo woman, but perhaps he could protect this girl. However, along with that pout, Desco’s eye lit up with an angry fire and she practically growled as she replied to him.

"Desco isn't scared, Desco is a Final Boss! Desco is here because Daddy asked her to do her best in the contest!"

She was so sincere that Ganondorf couldn’t help but to chuckle, causing Desco’s eyes to flare even more before the Gerudo held up his hands in surrender. It seemed the girl was adamant about this, so the least he could do was to humor her.

“I do apologize, good miss. I must not have recognized your greatness before, but I certainly see it now. And,” he leaned close to her, nearly whispering in the girl’s ear, “From one Final Boss to another, I must say that I’m impressed. You may still have some growing to do, but such evil at such a young age… Well, it’s good to see the youth of today being proactive.”

The Gerudo’s smile widened as he leaned back away from her, a hand on her shoulder turning the girl to face where he was pointing. “Your friend is over that way, young one. Do take care of her. A Final Boss must always be attentive to the well-being of her allies and minions.”

Oookay...a few hours of walking and I seem to have lost my sense of direction. I've gone past walls of books from all kinds of places, climbed a mountain from some outdoor park, faced and fought a couple of incredibly agile training dummies and now I'm back to the Recreation Dome. Somehow, the place is less crowded than it used to be. Might as well grab a few grub before searching again. All that walking got me drained again.

Walking towards the same grill stand, I wave at the man flipping the huge slabs of meat as I casually stab three of them off the smoking grill with my scythe. I sink my teeth into one of the juicy slabs and chew on it like there's no tomorrow. I sit down on the ground to finish my second slice when I feel a hand on my right shoulder, turning my head at it and ready to bite. Looking upwards behibd me to see who was the owner of the hand, I see a man dressed like the local security.
"Are you Carn?", he asks.

"Yep! Need my help?"

"We've been looking all over for you, sir. All primes are to report to the barracks before the game starts."

"Well, I got lost somewhere and ended back here since I'm hungry."

"We understand. I will now escort you to your room. Come with me," the uniformed man says. He grabs me by the sides and hauls me up like a kid. "My, you're heavier than I thought."

"I can't help it. I ate a lot," waving the third slab of meat stuck on my scythe as I swallow it.

"I see. We have to go now sir. Follow me," he orders me as he turns around towards the direction of the lobby door. I reach out my scythe one last time at the stacked grill full of chunky beef before following the Syntex guard. "Right behind you!" I call out smiling.

He leads me back into the lobby hallway and walk towards the silver elevator door at the far end of it. Now how did I miss that there?? Soon, we reach the elevator door as it opens with a 'cling' sound. Wierd. The silver metal box feels unsettling as I cramp myself into a cold corner, ignoring the music playing on the speakers. Finally, it stops and the door opens again with another 'cling'. I step out and the Syntex guard hands me my rom key. "#36," he says. "Also, please leave all your weapons in your room or we'll have to deal with it later on," he informs me. Oh my...did he just say I should leave Trauma and Tremor behind? This is bad.

I stand in front of the elevator door for a few moments, contemplating what he just said. "I'll be unarmed in this game...but, so are they. Hmm."
I would have stayed there longer if I didn't here the mumble a short distance away from me spot. At the far end of the dull-colored hallway is a crowd of people who will probably enter the game as well. I ignore them for now while looking at the key given to me. "#36, I guess that's my bunk," I walk up to the third floor hallway that has '31-40' written on it. I guess one of the rooms are mine?

Walking past each room as I scan the names posted for each door, I spot Okor's and Galel's room. "34...35...36...3- oh that's mine!" I stick the key and turn the knob. Inside the room cntains a single bed a duffle bag and some and some little cabinets. I sit on the bed as I drop Tremor, leaning the thing on the wall with a rumbling thud. The act causes a muffled voice coming from the other side of the wall, my neighbor. Wartortle was it? "Sorry! I didn't do it on purpose, slightly..." I apologize with sarcasm. I lean the scythe beside the cleaver, stabbing it into the wall. "I hope I didn't hit anything in there," I cover a chuckle with my left hand.

Now losing interest at my neighbor, I concentrate on my Omnillium as I summon a stack of my calling cards, grabbing a few inside my right pants' pocket as I pull the duffle bag in front of me and put it on my lap. Grabbing the zipper as I run it to the other side, the bag opens, revealing a few packs of silver wrappings and bottles of clear, transparent liquid. I check each one, wondering what they could be. The silver packs are labelled with 'MRE' and little instructions at the back. The writing is too long for my attention span but it does havw the word 'food' which gives me an idea what it is for. I guess this is what people eat in here?

I grab the plastic bottle and immediately read the label. It says "Aquafina" with a little subtitle "by Pepsi. Co". Sponsors? Nah. I zip the bag close, grabbing the silver packs of foil and casually shove one into my mouth, crunching whatever contents was inside. I walk outside to the other side, passing by room 37 for a person named "Luffy", followed by room 38's Desco. "Desco? Right!" I hurriedly search for my calling cards in my pocket and knock on the door. With no reply, I simply stuff the card below the door and move on. I see Victor is just beside her followed by Tartaros at the end of the hallway. I stuff a card below Tartsies' door as well like I did with Desco's as I proceed back to my room, picking up more of the cards I made earlier.

I run towards Galel"s and Okor's rooms, pressing cards on the door slits with a tap on their doors. I didn't stop though since I recalled a crowd of people a few moments ago, hoping I get to talk to them and maybe get a friend or two in this fun competition. Seeing Desco's door made me want to look for Guu's door too, leading me back to the crowd of people. I stop beside a kid with a straw hat who oddly smells like meat. Pushing the tasty thought away, I walk towards the biggest person in the group, a man with some unusually colored hair, who seems to be talking to someone little by the way he was bending low for some reason. I poke his relatively squishy side, unlike those of the big guys I met earlier which had metal armor for skin. "Uhm, hello mister. Do you happen to know a person named Guu? She's a friend of mine. Pink hair, pink dress, yellow scarf," I give him a basic description while gnawing on the silver-foiled MRE. "She's a little girl like-" I stop, well, no one made me, I just found something that interrupted me, is all. "Desco! Hihi! Nice to see you here!" I run around the big man to meet my friend.

"Hello! I got something for you! " I give her one of my calling cards with my trademark white '?' in a black background and on the other side, all the necessary information to contact me. "I got one for Guu too but I haven't found her yet...it's a shiny card!" I turn around to meet the eyes of the big man. "Hello! I'm Carn!" I introduce myself with a bow for some reasons. "So yeah. I'm looking for Guu. I'm giving her one of these!" I hand a card to the man. "You can keep it," I smile.

"My, they have weird food here. This one tastes like a paste of carbohydrates, broth of protein and fibers of tissue...wait, it is tissue." I comment on the whole silver pack I'm eating like a biscuit.

“Be safe, Princess Guu.”

The weight his name carried so far from home astounded him. Of course, back in the Disney Realms, he had expected to be crowded by fans wherever he went, but he had not expected anyone to know who him in the Omniverse. Certainly, his admission of his royal nature came purely from a place of pride, not expecting anyone to actually have stock in his identity.

This girl, though—“Princess Guu of Ambrosia,” she called herself—had recognized him at a glance, and had not known of his kingship. Mickey could not think what he might be famous for otherwise, but this girl had known him nevertheless. Her face had brightened when she saw him… ugh, this is monstrous, he thought to himself, his frustration swelling once again. He had been sitting here for a while, content to blow off some steam and then let himself focus on the game, but seeing her—a little girl—in this competition had renewed his fire tenfold. Once and for all, he made his judgments about Dante’s Abyss: this competition was a monstrosity.

He stood up from the bench that he had taken as his own resting spot and marched out of the common area, down the second hallway to room number fourteen. Swinging open the door, the mouse’s face drooped with disappointment. The producers spent countless amounts of omnilium making everywhere else in this facility lavish and comfortable, except these rooms. He should have expected that, he supposed. A ratty-looking mattress sitting lopsided on a metallic frame comprised the only break from the emptiness of the room, and on top of it sat a small black duffel bag, currently zipped closed. Supplies, the mouse guessed, walking over and unzipping it for a moment, inspecting what he had been given. A couple of ready-made meals, some water, and some things to make sure he didn’t get lost. Just the essentials, it seemed. The mouse sighed—so not only was this game going to be a bloody, bloody fighting competition, but he’d have to struggle just to even survive.

Well, if he planned on besting this game of survival, he needed to rest. It struck the King that he had not slept since leaving Berthe’s home quite a while ago, and so he laid himself down on the bed to rest, content to sleep until the producers of this awful game took them to wherever they would be battling for their lives.


He jolted upright, feeling a strange sensation creeping up his spine. He let out a strained groan as the sensation turned to pain, and he felt a sort of… paralysis washing over him. The King made a valiant attempt to get out of his bed, but thanks to whatever this dark magic was, he simply rolled, heaving loudly, onto the cold floor. The mouse could not for the life of him tell what the heck was happening, though all signs pointed to some kind of seizure—was he going to die before he had even gotten into this goshdarn game?

Someone outside had to hear him, right? Surely any second now, one of the employees of this game would come rushing inside to his aid, trying to figure out what caused this epileptic episode. Just as he realized that no one was going to come, however, the world around him began to glow a curious shade of yellow, and…

…well, Mickey decided very suddenly that he did not want this attack to stop.

The yellow glow blinded him, but he could not help but be taken in by it. Mickey, the voice whispered again, and something told the King that this voice belonged to the boy from before—the silver-haired boy dressed all in black that he had met in the lobby—and he could not turn away from it. Darkness crept in, slowly overtaking the yellow glow until nothing was left of it except a glowing heart off in the distance. Mickey felt a strange power running through his veins, as if the heart fed him its energy.

He knew what this was. It looked… different than he remembered, and he could not figure out how it could have made its way to the Omniverse, but the mouse’s gut told him that he was looking at something truly magical. “…Kingdom Hearts,” he sputtered, lifting up a hand to reach for the entity which hovered just out of reach. Suddenly, blackness enveloped the yellow Kingdom Hearts and his barracks room jolted back into place.

The collar did not seem to like this encounter, as Mickey could feel slight shockwaves pulsing through his body. The King did not have time to comprehend what had just occurred before the static electricity pulsed through him enough to render him unconscious, crumpled on the floor.

Dante’s Abyss was about to begin.
[Image: 2agonyw.png]

Okor stirred from his fevered dreams, grunting as he rose from his bare bed. His ceramite covered legs swung over the lip, his boots slamming down on the grey floor. He rubbed his hands against his helm, feeling trapped for the first time in millennia. His armour had been bound to him for aeons, seeing him through war after war. It was covered in the blood of millions of warriors, the scars of a billion weapons, and the dust of infinite worlds. It was as much a part of him as his own hand. As the air filtered through once more, its innate purity instantly obliterated is it sunk inside of his infested lungs. He looked towards the simple mirror on the wall, placed there in case the contestants felt a need to tend to their cosmetics before the bloody trials ahead. He shambled towards it, bending down in front of the treated glass. His eye, leaking pus, gazed into its reflection, seeing its own infected cornea mirrored, the small parasites dwelling in his vitreous humors wriggling inside the red orb. His gauntleted hands reached up, grasping the edges of his helm. With a meaty sucking sound, he began to lift...

He stared at his own face. Had it been so long since he had looked beneath his helmet? Since he had seen himself? He ran an armoured hand across his chiseled chin, the impressive physiology of the Astartes persisting even after millennia of corruption. His short black beard, kept restrained by his helmet for so long, was matted with pus and corrosive bile, leaked from his damaged mouth. His maw itself was cut and rotten, the yellow and black teeth inside were cracked, and riddled with holes. What was once a nose was little more than mucous-ridden holes, the organ itself destroyed by a savage blow from an Ork in the closing days of the Great Crusade. His head was bald, reminiscent of his Primarch. A series of cuts and scabs littered his skull, with several fresh wounds from where his armour had bound to his flesh. Translucent blood was already scabbing over, displaying his enhanced physiology. A twisted and cracked horn sprouted from his forehead, the dirty ivory cracked in many places, yet still standing as proud and tall as a warbanner.

It was his face. The face that had withstood ten thousand years in spite of Entropy and war. It was the face that would withstand ten more. He grinned, a foul smell seeping out of his blackened mouth. He fitted the steel collar inside of his gorget, the supposedly stainless steel already suffering under his ambient onslaught. He looked down into the helmet he held in his hands. It was rotten, decaying, rusted, covered in his own blood. Any mortal who donned it would find himself unable to support its weight, not to even mention the uncountable number of diseases that laired there. With hardly a second thought, he donned it, feeling a reassuring increase in the ever-present hum as the systems inside the helm activated. A verse passed through his mind, a snippet of a speech heard long ago. He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

"Despair all ye nations, the Corrupter has come,
And the sad days of this world are nearing their sum.
For the shining ideals through endeavours we sought,
Grow sour as he passes and are coming to nought."

He chuckled as he pushed open the door, ready to face whatever believed they could stop the end.
[Image: DarkshireDefenseBadge.png][Image: HerosGraveyardBadge.png][Image: DA15Badge.png]

It was a dark, dark day for the gamer. He slumped against his conqueror, his spirit crushed and his mind muddled with woe. "Damn you..." He hissed under his breath. "Damn you, and your evil...." There was such hatred, even in his exhaustion. "Damn you..." He brought a fist to pound against the side of the surprisingly sturdy arcade game. Thump. But it would not budge. "I was undefeated... Master of all consoles... Until you ruined it, you MOTHER F-"

"Contestant Neal," said a stranger. His name being spoken in such an official tone snapped Neal out of his gamer's grief. "All of those participating in the competition are being moved to the Barracks. I've come to escort you to your temporary chambers."

"Right... Barracks. Sounds fun. After you then," Neal offered politely. The Syntax employee's brow furrowed for a moment at the sudden switch between eccentric and stern. Without a word, the young man turns and heads towards the elevators.


The room was small, and for the most part rather drab. IT should have dampened Neal's spirits, but it only allowed him to focus more on the task ahead. He took up the bag on his bed and peered inside. He found basic essentials, no more and no less. This really is going to be like the Hunger Games, the man mused to himself. Except, death is not permanent... No grievances for the victor.

With a smile curling his lips, Neal wheeled about and drops onto the edge of his bed. The backs of his wrists rested on his knees as his palms face the ceiling. I've socialized. I've entertained myself. I've filled my belly. Now I can get in some real preparation.

"Aaauuummm" It was the sound of the universe that vibrated his throat then vibrated his nostril. A worldly and astral sounds in sequence, vibrations which synced his consciousness, his subconsciousness, and his superconsciousness with the world around him. In this world, he could feel it much stronger than ever before.

"Aaauuummm" The air around him vibrated as he meditated. It rushed inwards towards his still form as he inhaled, then hummed with his voice upon every exhale. Inward, and outward. Inward, and outward.

"Aaauuummm." It is in this deep meditation of controlled breathing that Neal would remain for three days.

Quote:Sorry, my weekend was hectic as hell, and today's not much easier, but I had to get something in. XD

Gilgamesh stormed away from the pathetic mongrel that dared to mock him. Blood rushed to his face and a wave of anger and rage flushed the King. How dare that pig treat him like that?! Oh he would teach them all to respect the true King of the Dunes.

The Camera beaming on the frustrated King slowly turned away and for once, the King was on dead air. His eyebrow raised but he thought nothing of it. Electricity courses through the King's veins. His every muscle in his body was on edge and constantly pulsating with the electricity. His eyes were melting out of their sockets and he could feel his brain steam and fry up like an egg. His teeth clenched and his fist pounding onto the floor with absolute pain, the King felt hopeless. All of a sudden, relief. The current stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief for the moment of relaxation.

Footsteps came closer and closer and closer as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The light penetrating his eyelids stopped and Gilgamesh peeked his eye open to see his favorite person in the world. Karl Jak. A strong kick to the gut sent the King flying and pain shot up his spine as his ass connected to the wall. He groaned in pain as the same footsteps grew closer. He grabbed the King by the hair and pulled him up off the floor and looked pathetically at him struggling and reaching for the man's hands. How dare he take advantage of the King's forced weakness? Gilgamesh bared his teeth as the man which relieved a blunt smile. Karl tossed the man to the floor and the painful bouncing of gold armor echoed through the hallway.

"Don't think I didn't see that smile! The whole world saw that and now your rivalry might not be as believable as before." Karl's face turned into a scowl as he went on, "You need to make it believable or else." Karl kneeled down and took a piece of gum on his mouth and forcefully embedded it into the King's chestplate. "Oh and I just wanted to see the expression in your face." His smile returned while Gilgamesh just laid there, attempting to breathe steadily. Karl stood back up and took his phone out mumbling, "Electrocution setting number 6 non-lethal." His glanced and the weakened King on the floor before walking away, "Be good."

The King raised his body off of the ground, leaning on his arms. His body was weakened and he could barely speak. "You're a monster!

Karl turned his head and smiled, "Bitch I'm Fabulous."


Quote: Insert Multiple Gilgamesh Appearances here

Gilgamesh felt queasy, all these people continued to be free but he was chained like an animal. The pathetic lot treating him like some second-rate King?! He needed to show them all...his face glowered.ly walked into the main lobby, his face searching for Crona...or some other hopeless sap that looked like a loyal follower. He continued to search for one but instead he found an intriguing looking fellow who sat next to...what's his name again? Gilgamesh pondered to remember but it escaped his mind but only remembered his defiance of his right to rule and his threaten to destroy Gilgamesh. He shrugged it off, no big deal.

Gilgamesh casually walked to the group and he heard the plebs voice speak, "Speak of the Devil." His hands sparked to life with energy before the King raised his hand to silence the man. He turned to him, "If you manage to impress me here I shall give you a chance." The man was speechless and confused at the sudden change of mood in the King from his last visit.

"You...you intrigue me. You look trustworthy and reliable. Would you like to join me, King Gilgamesh, and my Kingdom to fend off the empire? Of course we'd need to win here in order to gain any real power and notoriety." His eyes gleamed with power and curiosity and he leaned in towards the boy.

"I'd love too, your grace... but I swore sacred vows back home play no part in the politics of the realm." The man maintained to be respectful and this was what Gilgamesh saw in the boy. Now only if he succumbed to his will. The King smiled before going on.

"Have you not been wronged by the Empire? My best man has been forced by the empire to become a bounty hunter of the innocent, I believe his name was Crona. However, I suppose if you do not want to serve the True King then I shall take my leave." The King began to feign to walk away and waved a cute wave before the man reached out for him.

Gilgamesh stopped in his tracks and turned around. His eyes widened a bit, his expression changing as he'd change his mind. "No, wait, sire... This Crona you have; I know of him. He and I, we travelled into Corucsant together. The two of us were taken captive at the Empire's whimsy." He paused "If Crona... if he is really with you..." he'd chuckle faintly "I would lend you my sword, your grace, but I have appeared to have lost it. I would hope my mind and my bare hands would suffice you, at least." His eyes intently looked at the King, anxiously waiting for a response.

An evil grin appeared on his face, "Perfect."
[Image: GilgameshDAsig_zpsecqjfngm.png][Image: NB_BadgeRight.png][Image: RhzfCY6.gif] - Credit to Ezzy

"Nice to meet ya Lubbock!" Gin said. Lubbock then extended his hand to shake, which Gin gladly took. Soon after, Lubbock departed towards the exit. Gin got the feeling it was about time for the participants to meet up, so he went outside to fetch Tonic and go.


Gin and Tonic stepped off the elevator into the barracks. The elevators seemed to come out at a common area for participants. He looked around and saw that most people were already here, with some people heading to their rooms. Everyone had such stark contrast from each other, some people even looked completely alien to Gin.

"Man, this place beats the hell out of Kingdom-R53." Gin said. "Then again, any place beats Monsus Hive central." he thought afterwards. He shivered thinking about how run-down his home had become after the accident in the science wing. He wondered how everyone was doing since he had been gone. His father had been close to some kind of breakthrough before he left with his squad into Neodrach Territory of the colony. What if he finally found a way to turn everyone back to normal?

Tonic gave him a light peck on the head, which snapped Gin out of his deep thought, "Huh? Oh, sorry Tonic, guess I zoned out for a bit there. Lets find our room huh?" he said to his Chocobo.

Gin and Tonic took the corridor labeled 11-20 and soon came upon a door that said GIN YATREG on it. Upon entering Gin saw a bag which no doubt contained supplies for him on the island. But Gin ignored it and instead flopped onto his bed and fell asleep, with Tonic laying down on the floors nearby.
[Image: 6qbi4j.png]
"A waking dream of life and light."

Aw, someone doesn’t think the Merc wit a Mouth is a good guy. I am definitely a good guy. I mean, sure I’ve killed a lot of innocent people during my lifetime, and have done some very questionable deeds too, but I refute the notion that those past regressions should deter others from thinking I’m a good guy! Not to mention, I’ve been nothing less than a Ned Flanders since being snatched from Marvel!

The double-doors reopened, and as the mercenary stepped out of the elevator, white light from fluorescent tubes above washed over him. A few people walked by—fellow contestants—and one of the females even stopped to steal a gaze at the mercenary, but he was too occupied with analyzing his surroundings.

The female that thought I didn’t look like a good guy!!!

The main corridor of the barracks branched off into four narrower halls, which housed the rooms that Dante’s Abyss provided to the entrants. A plate with red numbers was mounted at the beginning of every hall, indicating which room numbers the individual halls held; it reminded the mercenary of past rendezvous at hotels, with prostitutes.

Deadpool walked down the corridor, glancing to both sides as he passed every intercepting hallway. 1 – 12, the left half of the first hall was labeled in red ink; 2 – 24, labeled the right half. The next intercepting hallway split from a dead-end. On the wall, two signs were mounted: LEFT 25 – 37, RIGHT 38 – 50; they read, in bold red.

He followed the sign on the left and turned into the hallway, but as he passed through the first pair of adjacent doors—25 and 26—he could feel another episode of vertigo arising within, trying to take hold of his body. The sensation felt much stronger than ever before, and overwhelmed him with surprising promptness. He tried to fight it, but his best effort in doing so lost, miserably. His world teetered, and the ceiling came collapsing down in waves that splashed over his mask. He felt the radiance from the fluorescent lights warm the surface of his outfit, moistening his skin with sweat.

His room was only a few steps away, at the very next pair of adjacent doors (it was moments like this where Deadpool wished Stan Lee gave him Mister Fantastic’s genes; a few other reasons too—for the ladies). Leaning his forearm against the right side of the wall, the mercenary staggered his way towards his room; every step he took brought another tide of ailments crashing with it, which arrived in the form of cold flashes and shivers.

But the knob to his room was so close, jutting out the edge of the wall, only a few feet away!

Says the guy who isn’t dying . . .

He reached his free, trembling right hand for the knob, drawing closer to it with every weak step. It was there, right there, so close he could almost picture himself lying in bed already (he just needed to get off of his feet, he kept convincing himself); but as he neared, the doorknob violently shifted in place, and then multiplied like splitting cells—one became two, became four, became eight—until all he saw was a kaleidoscope pattern of colors that undulated in his mind.

This isn’t good, he thought. He swiped a few times for the knob, but as his state deteriorated further, there was no longer a knob to reach for.

That was when he collapsed. ”Dowwn gooes Frazier,” he quipped in the midst of his peril; it was his last cry of Fourth Wallism before his head bounced off of the blue tiled floor, knocking him unconscious.

Dante's Abyss Placings
2015 - 4th
2016 - 2nd
2017 - 4th

PVP Combat Record
3W - 0L - 0D
4W - 1L - 0D
[Image: Deadpool_Funny.png]

After Snart training me in the Dojo, I made my way back to the lobby. "Go get 'em, tiger." Snart said before I was escorted by a Syntex employee, into the Barracks.

While I entered the Barracks, the Syntex employee put a collar on me, and I was nervous from the moment it was on. I had a lot on my mind about the competition. Who will win? Will I get a good ranking? Why are the Barracks so very boring? It was boring as heck inside the Barracks. I entered my private room, nothing of interest except my duffel bag. Might as well search through my bags... I checked inside my duffel bag. Nothing of interest at the time. "Well, I guess I'm stuck here a while..." I went over to my bed and just sat there, twiddling my thumbs at insane speeds.
[Image: life-is-strange-ep-2-banner.png]

Okor raised his gauntlet to his helmet, the interface ports rebinding themselves to his decaying flesh. Quickly cycling through a small variety of channels (his squad frequency had been unused since the siege of Terra), he selected a pre-Istvaan general frequency. The others' vox systems should be able to easily pick it up, due to the simple uniform nature of the time. Depressing the activator, he spoke. "Tartaros... Galel. The time approaches. We shall rendezvous at..." he paused for a moment, attempting to remember the old legion ciphers, in the event of unwanted listeners. "Alpha, break... Omega, Lambda." Satisfied, he looked around his future opponents. Insignificant children, the rare young adult. The only evident threats was a Xenos. A dark olive green, dressed in regal robes. Some kind of leader, possibly here to expand his influence. Okor was content to observe him from afar, noticing his social prowess. Definitely one to watch, should they cross paths later. Stretching, Okor scanned the barracks, looking past the seeming hordes of small children, seeking out the familiar figures of his brothers.
[Image: DarkshireDefenseBadge.png][Image: HerosGraveyardBadge.png][Image: DA15Badge.png]

This man, Straizio Rockwell, had been an interesting character to Jon. He was clearly someone who wanted to do right by others, and such a thing was a trait that Jon Snow couldn't help but to admire and respect. Though he'd decided to take off upon the unexpected arrival of a shining figure clad in shimmering armour, but not without a parting message. "We may have shared our moment there, but I won't hesitate to kill you if I see you on the Island, Snow. I've got something to prove, after all" Strazio hissed in his ear before rising from his seat, moving past the haughty newcomer and out the door. Jon glared darkly at Strazio as he departed, and then turned his eyes to the striking man in front of him.

The so-called "sand-king of the Dunes". He was a king who wore no crown, but from the sights of him, he was no Stannis Baratheon. He adorned shimmering, strong-forged armour that glimmered in the reflection of the lights beam, and stood as tall and proud as a king should. He had drooping golden hair and blood red eyes that made Jon feel a tinge of uncomforted when stared into them. But Snow didn't have to take too much of a glance to know that the mans grinning face and cocksure mile masked something else, though. Some repressed woes and bottled blues. It seemed as though that this man, this king had been stripped bare and naked of a portion of his own self-pride, though he dared not show it, and remained with a high, mighty and noble posture about him.

Jon felt even more intrigued when the king decided to address him. Gilgamesh had asked for his loyalty, but Jon had refused it in the politest way he knew how, and he spoke to this king as he would have with any king back in Westeros. Men of the Nights Watch swore to take no part in the politics of the realm with their vows, and Snow wasn't deadset on breaking his oaths a second time. There was no ice wall or Castle Black here, sure, but even if his brothers couldn't judge him here for what he did the gods could, and that was more than enough for Jon. Even if there were no weirwood trees around, it was common belief and preaching that the Old Gods could see all.

And Jon wasn't ready to deny them, yet.

Then came the mention of Crona, and Jon's protective instincts and nature were perked.Crona's here with him? Jon began to feel a sudden change of heart. Crona was a friend, and Jon knew he needed more allies than just Sasuke if he wanted to see himself getting through this alive and in one-piece. Though Snow was unsure of what to entirely make of this King Gilgamesh, and his pompousness and apparent snivelling ego had managed to throw him off a little bit, he knew working with him was for the best, and to the mutual benefit and gain of the both of them.

"Crona... did he come here with you, your grace? Where is he?" Jon had a desire to reconcile with the purple-haired child, now. They hadn't seen each other since the scrap in Corucsant, and they both had some explaining to do to one another. "He's here, indeed, but I'm uncertain as to where he is now" the king sneered. "Probably running amok as children do" he grunted. Jon's lips curled slight outward, his expression remaining stern, solemn and guarded, just as always. "Probably not Crona. He's far past outgrown that, I'm sure" the bastard stated in reply with a faint smile. And he spoke all truth. The frail-looking, timid boy had surprised Jon greatly in how he'd handled himself during the street side brawl against the Golemancer Sivo, and he held a certain level of maturity and understanding with him that seemed rather uncommon for a boy of his ageing.

"Indeed, indeed..." the King nodded his head slightly in response. "He handles that big sword of his well... just a shame he can't use it here" King Gilgamesh spoke with a certain bitterness in his tones, his nostrils flaring a tad. Jon glanced away momentarily, inhaling sharply before speaking once more. "I'd take my leave, your grace, so that I perhaps may go and find him"

Bowing his head deeply in a courteously manner, Jon paced past the King, moving for the door, but stopped in his tracks at Gilgamesh directed a final query toward him.

'I've still yet to hear your name, servant?"

Jon didn't speak for himself immediately, turning his head back to look at Gilgamesh. "Jon Snow, your grace" he spoke his name, bowing at his waist as a last gesture of respect for his betters and politeness. With a slight nod of ultimate dismissal from the King, Jon turned away, moving out from the lounge area.

Now he was set on finding Crona before this competition truly began. How much time did they all even have left? Jon was unsure, but he knew explaining things to Crona would be a lot more easier sooner rather than later. And mulling on it... where in Seven Hells was Sasuke? Jon had seen nor heard nothing from him since heading through the portal upon signing-up. Had he made it here without issue?

Jon decided he'd make it his goal to find the both of them before this thing really got started.

He drifted and skulked around the hallways at a hurried pace, navigating and turning himself around the hallway's bends and long corridors, only pausing when a familiar looking raven-haired, blue-clothed figure caught his eye from the distance.

Think or speak of the devil, and he'll show up at your doorstep... Jon had learnt, both from his previous encounter with the king and Darkshire's Defender and what had just happened now.

He moved towards Sasuke at a swifter timing, moving to catch him up, The ninja anticipated his footsteps, however, quickly turning around with a clenched fist in suspense, causing Jon to rear backward.

"No need for that, it's only me" Jon raised his hands up slightly. "Snow..." the shinobi murmured. "You were nowhere to be seen when I arrived here... what were you doing?" his teammate cocked his head to the side in wonder. "I could ask you the very same question" Jon grunted. "I'm glad I found you, though.." Jon took one quick take of his surroundings before moving closer towards Sasuke, ensuring nobody was in earshot before beginning to whisper. "I think we have more allies here than we first thought"

'What?" the Uchiha snapped back in retort, brow raising slightly. "What do you mean? Who?!" Snow's lips curled outward as he pondered on his choice of wording very carefully. Sasuke and he were arguably stuck together, very much in the same boat. But Jon needed the shin obi's trust, and he hadn't had much time to earn it over.

"An... old accomplice of mine. He's here, and he's brought backup with him" Jon gave a stern nod. The young ninja stared at him silently and and with a certain distrust. Jon let out a short sigh as his arms slowly folded against his chest.

"You do know why we need solid allies to thrive here? The two of us can't do this, not by ourselves, not alone... not if we want to make it out of this alive". Sasuke's eyes narrowed and darkened a bit at that. "If one of us wants to make it out of this alive, you mean"

Jon opened his mouth as if to protest, but immediately closed it again. This was a contest that could only hail one victor, Jon knew as much. Blood would run on his own hands, he acknowledged the fact, and embraced that a terrible end or a horrifying fate could await either of them on the field.

He nodded grimmly, and the young ninja nodded back, as if at a mutual understanding. Giving the shinobi one last, long and meaningful look, he moved past him, pacing further down the corridor.

"What will you now?" the voice of Sasuke called after him. Jon paused.

"I still need to go find who I was talking about. I've met one of his friends already" Jon took a few more steps forward, but was delayed once again by Sasuke's curiosity. "Who was he?"

Jon craned his head to look back at Sasuke so their eyes met, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Only the King of the Dunes himself. Gilgamesh, they call him".
[Image: tumblr_nzzfidB5IX1tcnpluo4_1280.png]

Desco nodded and smile to Ganon. He was a little weird but he seemed nice, and he helped Desco. She took the evil comment in stride, Desco expected that kind of thing to be as plain as day but very few people would probably say Desco is evil at first glance. "Thank you mister!" Then Carn came up to Desco. She wasn't sure that she had actually formed a friendship with him yet but he was friendly with Desco so they must be friends. Desco pointed in the direction that Ganon had told Desco. "Desco hasn't eaten the food yet... but Guu is that way! Let's go!"

Desco led Carn through the crowd and just kept pushing through, while Erza, who Desco had forgotten about with the flurry of activity and the arrival of Carn, was also following them. It took a while but when she got through Desco finally found Guu! Guu was leading some other guy too. Desco didn't recognize him at all. "Guu!" "Hey Desco, I found you. This is Gildarts." "Yea, Desco got help from a tall guy with red hair. He seemed nice. Carn came with Desco too." Desco noticed that Erza was still tagging along with Desco. "And that is Erza."

Guu hugged Desco and Desco smiled and hugged back. "We'll have to find each-other on the island Desco and team up." The idea of teaming up seemed odd to Desco at first. From what she was told this was a game of survival and fighting everyone else to get to the top. She would have happily attacked and devoured Guu with her tentacles because this was a game, and Guu would resurrect later anyway. "We can do that?" "Sure why not? They want a show so alliances will probably be all over the place. But this could be a game of chairs too. People will backstab their alliance to get ahead. We can't trust everyone." "Ohhh, we should be careful then Guu." The pair of girls both nodded. This was a serious game in some aspects, a fact that still wasn't quite across for Desco and might not get across. Desco had done long games with daddy before, she played fight with daddy's battlesuits until Desco couldn't move her body anymore.

"Uhh, are you alright miss?" Gildarts asked, prompted only by what his eyes could see.

There had been a fight, the walls crumbled and scraped by the endless battering of a rigorous attack. He stood in the aftermath and a woman in heavy armor was leaning against a wall. The strange luminescent glow that surrounded her in the battle had now faded, and she caught a breath as her eyes narrowed and remained stuck on the same corner that her ambushing enemies had escaped in. The mesh of armed guards followed those who fled, vanishing behind a turned corridor.

"Hands off!" she retorted. This was a competition to be the best, she didn't need some stranger's sympathy. She would crush them all. The Monster Hunter had become what she always triumphed over, it was oddly reminiscent of the abyss.

Cindy had overwhelmed her enemies with the power of the Rathalian Egg, but that didn't mean a battle of three verses one wasn't something she didn't need to recover from. It was a good warm-up for what would follow. Surprise attacks, luckily, came in bursts that she could handle as they tested her stamina and readiness and challenged her ability to adapt and meet her opponent's strength with her own brutality.

The monster hunter had batted Gildarts' hand away without looking, only to hear the empty echo of his 'armored' arm clash and fall to the side. The wizard slowly let his eyes move so that he could fix his prosthetic limb, setting it straight and remaining silent in the process.

The ever-perceptive monster hunter felt a tinge of remorse, especially after reading the genuine sincerity woven into the man's features. There were no ulterior motives, and rather, concern had been produced in his eyes -not the kind that pity demeaned- but that of honor. If she didn't know any better, she would have said he were a complete idiot for helping a would-be enemy; his intention was too good-hearted. "Oh, I didn't..." Her regret-filled voice trailed, she didn't have to defend herself against this goon, and yet there was something about his cold resolve that made her waver in anticipation. So this is my competition.

His unresponsiveness and lack of explanation told her that he was serious. He hadn't tried to pry, and this wasn't some lame attempt to gain a strong ally. Gildarts clicked his arm back and looked at her again as she began to speak.

"Sorry about that," Her sharp eyes fell upon his silver arm and noted there was nothing beneath it as she explained, "I'm not really the trusting type. I appreciate your offer, but don't expect any return treatment. On the field, you're mine." Cindy chose her words as she gathered enough power to stand upright on her sprained ankle.

"Enemies or not, my offer remains. I wouldn't want you in any less condition than your best for the island. You seem like a formidable opponent, loosing a chance to beat you at any less than your best wouldn't be any fun." His words were hardened, a little astray from his usual self, but he spoke in a way that she might relate and respond to and his hunch was correct and produced progress.

"Fine then. Be a pal and find me a chair."

Somehow, Cindy seemed to be warming up to him. Gildarts was just that sort of man that people responded to. They managed their way to the common room, where a deck of cards was left unstacked and they made camp. Cindy wanted to check out the competition as well as watch out for the worms that had attacked her and Gildarts didn't seem to have any intention of letting her out of his sight. It all worked to her favor.

"You know any poker?" Cindy opted for some recon, if she could read the way he played cards, maybe she could break his mental fortitude if she ever encountered him in battle.

"Never played." Was his gruff response, "Cards aren't really my thing."

"Well what is your thing?" Cindy's eyes brushed over his face, analyzing the impossible and trying to read his mind by the way he interacted with her. He seemed untouchable, and yet, she thought she saw a touch of his weakness as she realized he was not looking at her in the menacing way an hunter would a monster. Suddenly, Cindy recognized and felt a wave of surprise as she caught a glimpse of the wall that was his unbreakable resolve. She almost blurted out 'Just what is your angle?' but it dawned on her that no response he could tell her in words would be any good. He had been able to treat her in a civil manner, despite her attitude and venomous remarks, yet this compassion was not his weakness, she determined, it was his strength.

"Well," he put on a half-grin and lifted his arm to form a fist over the table, "There's always winning."

Cindy scoffed with an engaged smile, "You're on." She taught him the simplest game, blackjack, because she still wanted to see his pokerface. Or maybe she just wanted to identify that such an imbecile could struggle just as much as the rest. In this match, there was more riding on this than they both knew, and yet the consequence of the loss would remain unspoken.

Gildarts watched Cindy, her features were feminine but spoke of the simple pride of a warrior. Her armor was battle-savvy and her gait had told him she was a threat. The woman's open hostility was notable, however she had just been attacked, and they were about to go into a battle that nearly everyone who arrived was to be murdered on. She wore her amor well, and not the kind that was made from steel and adorned her skin. Underneath all that, she was still a woman, and an attractive one at that.

Guu had approached from no where, interrupting his winning streak and frustrating only Cindy, who had declared to herself that she would claim victory over him yet. How can he win so easily at a game he just learned? Not to mention it takes more than a little luck to line up the cards. It seemed the young girl would take him with her, but the two females didn't exchange names. In fact, Cindy didn't even look in Guu's direction, she didn't need to in order to determine Gildarts and the girl were allies. Her eyes remained on the man in one last attempt to figure him out.

He was so casual, yet totally revved up to win. He didn't even assign reverence to the cards that would determine his fate. Only his eyes spoke of the unprecedented determination flowing forth from within. There weren't any angles with him, he didn't exactly seem that complex. It was win or loose, try or don't, fail or win. The man before her was like no other, yet she had only caught his name when the petite child had addressed him.

They finished their final round while he seemed completely distracted, and the desperate Cindy took any advantage she could get, motivated by the shame warming her cheeks. At the last second, Gildarts turned to excuse himself, and leaned closer to her with his silver hand pressed against the table and nearly stomped on his own cards.

"Good luck." He flashed his teeth. There was that half-smile again.

The second she saw the flicker of his cloak leave the doorway, she frantically pounced on her chance to reveal the outcome and her hands went to his set. She HAD to know the fallout of their final round. Quickly, she turned the red checkered card over and her expression crumpled into disbelief.

The level-headed woman dropped the cards and stood up, letting them fall from her control. She abandoned the room cursing whatever she could blame, leaving his spaded ace and king turned upward on the table.
[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus

Dr. McNinja leaned against a wall and stared at a screen listing competitors' names. In the spot for #12, his name glared, as if to remind him of the horrible things he was about to do, and of the horrible things that were to be done to him. He felt for the comforting weight of his katana on his back, but found none. What a nightmare.

He looked at all of the others in the barracks. They were powerful, sizing each other up already, and most of all, they looked ready to annihilate each other. How could they be so ready to die?

He wasn't ready to die.

Dr. McNinja sighed and looked at the screen. Suddenly, one of the names blinked. #14. It switched from Ears to-

"That was Mickey Mouse," McNinja thought. "I flipping KNEW it!"

Clearly, he hadn't thought the last part quietly to himself, because everyone in his vicinity was staring at him.

"Uh... sorry. That uh... makes sense in context."

"No, it doesn't," said the voice in his head.

"SHUT UP NO ONE LIKES YOU" McNinja replied, taking care to make it silent this time. He watched the board again.

"I can't believe I have to kill Mickey Mouse," McNinja muttered to himself. But what if Mickey killed him? He considered the option.

"Nah," Dr. McNinja scoffed to himself, "Mickey ain't a killer. At least where I come from, he isn't. Although, he also isn't one to get drunk..."

Dr. McNinja suddenly felt very nervous at the prospect of being killed by a cartoon mouse created for children's movies and World War II propaganda. It was like being killed by Thomas the Tank Engine, except minus the danger of trains and the creepy face. So, actually, not at all like being killed by Thomas the Tank Engine.

"At least I got Jak and Delsin, right?" McNinja thought to himself.

That reminded him. He should probably sync up with them, in some way. He ran over to where Jak and Daxter were standing.

"Hey, guys. We should coordinate. Where do you want to meet once we get on the island? Also, where's Delsin?"

"What, we not good enough for you?" Daxter exclaimed.

"Shut up, you annoying furball," Dr. McNinja snapped.

Jak scowled at him. McNinja sighed and grumbled, "Sorry, Daxter. Under his breath, he complained, "Can't believe I'm apologizing to a meerkat..."

"So, anyway," McNinja continued, unfolding his map from his pocket to show Jak (and subtly hiding it from Daxter), Where should we meet?
[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]
Odd hours. Call for appointment.

Jak was a little more cautious and remained quiet and said "I think we should be a little...more cautious...."

Daxter nodded "My buddy's right, we should keep it quiet... who knows who's listenin' in to us..."

Daxter stared at Dr. McNinja and frowned keeping quiet "We know where Delsin is, it's just a bit dangerous..."

Jak remained quiet and looked at the map and pointed at a spot and nodded "Preferably where we can meet close, Doc...I have a com, let me know on there and I'll throw a message back.""

Jak whispered to Dr. Mcninja "If I were you, I'd be careful around my hallway... Tell Delsin the same thing if you see him.."
[Image: oNAS6Nu.png]

[Image: Darkdata.png]Jak/Mar- Dynamite Kid/ DA 2018" (Translated text)[Image: hVDTXBF.gif](Thanks Ezzy!)

The Infamous Dynamite Kid- Sasuke

DA 15
DA 16'
DA 17'
DA 18' 

As soon as their eyes locked, the rest of the room disappeared. Erza experienced a strange, serene calm like she hadn't since arriving in this strange Omniverse. No longer was she wondering what the heck Carn was or why Desco had immediately yanked him along, nor who this Dictator Guu was and why she was important. No, the only thing Erza could see right now was the man Guu had been pulling along behind her. A wide, hearty smile slowly spread across her face as she held up a hand and offered a wave. His mouth fell agape and eyes widened in shock and awe. He began to slowly walk forward, jaw firming up in determination, gaining momentum as he went, and took his first completely voluntary steps since having been roped into Dante's Abyss. "Gildarts! I was looking for -"


Erza's cheery greeting was cut off by Gildarts' arms wrapping around her in a sudden but not unwelcome embrace. "Erza... You're here. You're alive." A chill fluttered down Erza's spine, goosebumps beginning to form on her skin in defiance of Gildarts' natural warmth. "I'm... Alive?"

It was then that she well and truly realized for the first time that there were still people back home who had no idea where she'd gone off to. A few days was pretty normal for Erza, but that was only in the Omniverse. Who knows how much time had passed back in Earthland while she'd been here, out of their reach? Gildarts let her go, arms remaining temporarily on her shoulders as he allowed his relief and a small smile to settle in. Oh Gods. I've abandoned them AGAIN? "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to leave, you know how Omni is, he just pulls people and you don't get to go... back..." She trailed off as Gildarts' facial expression shifted from abject relief to puzzlement. "Or, didn't I?"

"Uh... No?" Gildarts scratched his head with his real arm, allowing the prosthetic to fall to his side. "I mean, usually I'm the forgetful one, but... Well, do you not remember the S-rank test? Acnologia? Omni saved me from our island's destruction, but I didn't think anyone else made it. I'm just... So glad that you're alright. Have you seen any of the others?"

Wow. Forgetful indeed. Intimidating, powerful, loyal, but certainly had been knocked around a time or two. "And you don't remember ANYTHING from after that?"

"What? No, I would have died. You too, if you hadn't also been pulled here. We're powerful mages, but against THAT thing... I thought that coming here, to this Abyss thing, would help me find a way to save them. I was tricked. And now, I have even less time to get back." The relief he'd felt at seeing Erza seemed to erode just as quickly as

Well, that was strange. Was it perhaps possible that what he was saying was true? That this Gildarts WAS, in fact, brought here in the year X784, instead of being preserved for seven years on the island with the rest of the Guild's strongest members? Had he not experienced the rebuilding of the Guild hall and the Grand Magic Games? The rest of the Dragons coming to the future?

Did that mean that this was a different Gildarts from the one with whom she'd experienced those fantastic things? Was this a different, duplicate copy, yanked from earlier in his timeline than her own? And did that in turn mean that she wasn't actually the real Erza? Or was the universe she'd experienced, the world in X791, not actually the same world she'd come from, just a strange copy from a dream, or a coma?

Enough philosophical rambling. She was the true Erza, she knew it in her heart. And not just an alternate-reality semi-duplicate, like Knightwalker had been. She was the real deal, and nothing could sway her from that notion, even if she WAS, maybe, technically, a copy. Which meant that even if these things were true, even if Gildarts was a copy, or not technically the same one she remembered, it was still Gildarts, her Gildarts, and she was glad for it.

"Gildarts. Listen to me for just a moment. I think we were pulled here from different points in time. I survived that catastrophe, the breath of Acnologia. Actually, you did too, though... Anyway. We were saved by the First Master, don't ask me how, just it was seven years in the future, and a lot of stuff happened, and... Anyway. They're alive, Gildarts. At least, they were when I was brought here, seven years and change later."

Erza couldn't tell Gildarts' emotions from his expression, though she thought herself something of an expert in figuring him out after their long time as friends. It was almost as though he'd lost something, something precious to him that was keeping him sane. But at the same time, she could feel pure, tangible joy radiating from his very being, that same joy she'd felt in their short embrace, but amplified for every single person he had known on that island.

"Come on." She gave another encouraging smile, trying to put any doubts about Gildarts' emotions in the back of her mind and allowing the world around them to reform. "Introduce me to your friend here. Dictator Guu, was it?"
[Image: Erza_kicks_Happy.gif]

Deadpool awoke to the sound of a deep voice calling at him. He threw an arm up over his face as his fluttering eyes were greeted by the strength of the fluorescent lighting, and winced, but as his vision adjusted he lowered his arm back down. His vertigo had subsided, and somehow he felt relatively normal again.

Still, why? He asked himself. His dream felt so real (he could practically still sense his skin rising from the brisk wind that came from the subway entrance). It did not have the attributes of a nightmare, but his mind processed it as one all the same—chills, curiosity for demise, and (the one that was most foreign to the mercenary) fear.

In Bold . . .

As his arm fully unshielded his vision, he noticed the broad-armed Syntex soldier standing at his feet. “Wake up,” he repeated with his brown eyes locked on the mercenary; the deep voice belonged to him. “Do you need medical attention?”

The offer was enticing—that’s for sure—but Deadpool shook his head. ”Nah, I’m good. I just need a hand off the ground.” Too much Omnillium was up for grabs to just bow out; if he died, he would go out swinging on the island, not in a hospital bed.

The soldier bent over and obliged, firmly gripping Deadpool’s hand and levering him back to his feet. “I came here to give you your collar,” the soldier said as he flipped his satchel to his front and dug a hand into it.

Deadpool already had a collar—the one that clamped his mask around his neck. ”I’m already owned,” he quipped, pointing a finger to his neck.

“Also, Mister Karl Jak noticed that you’re not doing too well,” the soldier replied matter-of-factly, pulling the black collar out and handing it to Deadpool. “This collar will make you feel a little better, regardless of what is plaguing you.”

”You don’t say,” the mercenary muttered while his gaze went over the collar—it shined like plastic, but as he took it from the soldier and gripped it in his own hands he realized it was some sort of foreign metal. He wrapped it around his neck, right below his own; if the soldier’s words were true, and the collar really had healing type benefits to it, then Deadpool welcomed it with widespread arms.

The soldier went to turn, but jolted back forward. “I almost forgot,” he said, “Mister Karl Jak also noticed you gave your cellular device to your cookie friend, before you came to the barracks.” He dug his hand back into the satchel and retrieved a sleek touchscreen device. “Mr. Jak promotes the use of OmniTwitter while on the island.”

Ha! Sounds like a Baron ‘In-Character’ reason to tweet again as da’ DEEE-PEEEE!!!The words slipped from his, and by the dick face response received, the mercenary assumed the solider overheard them.

”I’m sorry. Sometimes I have manic outbursts,” Deadpool tried to explain, but the soldier’s face refused to falter. He simply made sure the mercenary received the phone and turned away, power-walking back to the main corridor as fast as is muscular body allowed.

”Ah well, can’t impress everybody.” Deadpool shrugged and then quarter-rotated towards the door he had collapsed in front of—his door. The knob poked out at stomach-level, and without the ailments from earlier, appeared as the singular knob it was. He reached for it, paused, but then cautiously continued, twisting it and pushing the door open.

He grazed his finger across the wall to his right—no switch. Then with a graze against the left wall, the fluorescent light flickered on, extinguishing every dark spot in a bath of white light. The room was plain, but mercenary did not expect much for a temporary gig. To his left a desk pressed against the wall, accompanied by a chair, and straight ahead was the cot (typical white sheets and blue comforter included). From atop the desk, a forest green bag sent the mercenary a mean mug as the chin of it slouched over desk, against the chair’s spindle and rails.

Closing the door shut, the mercenary walked over to the desk. Zzzzzzzzzzp! the bag cried as Deadpool unzipped it, and stuck a hand inside to remove it guts—some meals, a few bottles of water, a map, and a compass.

Good enough, he thought. It had been an eternity since he last ate out of hunger, but with his Healing Factor acting up he had the feeling food would be necessary.

He took the supplies and stuffed them back into the bag, zipping it shut afterwards with a flick of his wrist. The last twenty-four hours had been long and tiring for the mercenary, and without the perks of his Healing Factor, they took their toll on his body. The cot provided lacked glitz and glamour, but it was a better place to rest than the floor outside the room. He walked over to it, fell forward with spread arms, and landed in slumber.

Dante's Abyss Placings
2015 - 4th
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2017 - 4th

PVP Combat Record
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Guu stepped forward.

“No no no. That’s just a joke nickname Desco calls me” She said. “Just call me Guu, or Princess Guu of Ambrosia if you prefer. I’ve been introducing myself as that a lot lately…”

“Alright!” Stated Erza, still glowing from the reunion. “How do you know Gildarts?”

“Oh, I’m his boss of sorts.”

“His… boss?”

Gildarts stepped in between here and Guu.

“Yeah, I found out real quick that it wouldn’t be easy getting home, so I’ve associated with the Guild of Ambrosia. Kind of a home away from home if you will.”

Erza had a slew of questions to ask, but little time to ask. She processed, trying to think what questions were more precedent.
“…and it’s lead by a 5-year-old?”

“10 if you will.”

Gildarts chuckled warmly and then responded.

“She’s far more mature than her appearance suggests.”

Erza looks quizzically.

“What kind of place is Ambrosia?” She asked.

“It’s a small little town in the Tangled Green. It’s full of refugees, just surviving together. The people there are tough, I respect them a lot.”

“Oh, sounds like and interesting place at least.”

Suddenly, a sound rang out from the speakers that carry all around them. People start crowding through and the group gets pulled apart, from each other in the chaos.
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