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(Pre-Show) Registration Booths (WHERE YOU SIGN UP IC)

Ninja Jump!
Ninja Jump!
Ninja Jump!

Like the Shinobi of one of his favorite Anime, Neal leaps from branch to branch, grabbing, swinging, jumping, flipping and so forth. His body twisted and his legs sprang, his hands reach and his body soars. It took so little practice to master his new powers, but he attributed it to his higher intelligence and the relative simplicity of his current applications. Jumping and spinning among static obstacles did not pose much of a challenge, especially at speeds no greater than his normal sprinting pace.

Ninja Jump!
Ninja Jump!
Ninja Jump!

Though it was no faster logistically, racing through the treetops meant he had a better view of where he was going, especially when he gained particularly good air from one of his well placed jumps. His target was a small village, or at least he assumed it to be so. The forest cut away, but he saw trees on the other side of a large clearing. With his current pace, he was only a few minutes out.

Ninja Jump!
Ninja Jump!
Ninja --- Fall!

A smaller clearing almost appeared underneath him. What he had mistaken for a tree was actually the pillar of a tent. In a moment of clearity, he saw a small path lead towards the larger clearing, practically confirming his suspicions... but the moment passed, and Neal realized his dilemma. He was doomed to land on the tent, and whatever might be underneath.

CrapcrapcrapcrapcRRRRIP! Before Neal could get back into gear, he rips through the tent on impact. There was only a momentary blur before the heard earth rose to greet him. Luckily, his spine broke his fall. Surprisingly, total agony wasn't what he thought it would be.

"Hey, Prime, are you signing up, or just enjoying the new sunroof?" The gruff, female voice caught his attention. Obviously, the tent was occupied, but he did not think it would be such a calm reaction he got. Well, calm-ish. He had expected screams of surprise.

Neal rolls backwards to his feet, rather than jump up all flashy-like. "Signing up for what?"

"Dante's Abyss, numbskull, what do ya think we're doin' here? Runnin' a blood drive?" Neal's brow furrowed in utter confusion. "Top of the Primes, this one," grumbled the rather buff looking woman regal attire. Whether she was supposed to be some sort of knight or chose to wear formal clothing with metal for the looks - Neal could not tell. It wasn't the 'sexy armor' cliche of his home world, but it wasn't full either. Jointed shoulder, elbow and knee plating, then a thick cloth everywhere else. Perhaps it was lined? "Oi, eyes up here buddy!"

"Huh? Ohh. Sorry, What's this abyss?"

"Survival game. Contestants go in and slaughter each other. Last one standing is the champion. I'm sure that's simple enough for a little boy like you to understand."

Little?! Neal would have been offended, if the woman was not almost twice his size. He'd get over it though, the other bit was more interesting. Sounds like Hunger Games... "Alright, count me in. Where do I sign?"

The woman pushes a registrar his way, along with a pen. "And when you're done with that, step in front of the camera and say something for the fans. Maybe you'll get a few diehards looking for a good underdog."

Ouch. Then again, Underdogs do make the best surprise winners![i] Neal took up the pen and signed the four letters of his name. He stopped before his surname. It had no meaning here, it was just another jumble of letters trailed behind his name. Instead, he drops the pen on the paper and steps in front of the camera.

"Whenever you're ready, short stuff." The hulking woman stated, pushing a button on the clunky piece of equipment. "We're rolling."

[i]"Ehem..." What to say, what to say... "My name's Neal. I've been in the Omniverse for under a week. I'm new to this world, but this is a game I know well. And if there's one thing that holds true in any universe, it's that I play to win."

"Hmm... Don't you sound serious all of the sudden..." The giantess glances him over once again. "Step through the gate whenever you're ready." Neal glances towards the rift in reality and turns on the balls of his heels. "One more thing..."


"If you do win... feel free to look me up..."

The image of his scrawny limbs flailing from underneath a partially naked giantess popped into his head. "Wish me luck," he responds with a wink. Though he grinned at the idea, he had no intention of making it a reality. At the very least, he'd assert his position as top dog - if only to keep his pelvis in one piece.

Turning back to the gate, Neal stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat and walks on through, again adventuring into the unknown. At least this time it was willing, and he'd enter with more than he came to the Omniverse with. Or at least, he hoped he'd retain his newfound prowess.


Personality: Neal can be described easily as a nerd. He enjoys videogames, anime, cartoons and live action movies or series of the sci-fi or fantasy variation. Due to this, he has advanced knowledge of many Primes through the information present in his home universe. This viewpoint has given him the idea that the Omniverse, and as an extension the Danteverse, are similar to videogames in that death is simply a loss of EXP. As such, he is more open to the idea of slaying other Primes in his journey to becoming a "top player." Outside of his nerdiness, Neal is deceptively well trained in self control. He can reign in his wild thoughts and emotions to achieve a heightened focus. On top of that, he is a natural in combat, as reflected by his high Tech.

Possible Reactions: Neal has come to win. Being killed contestants don't actually die, he would attempt to slay any he comes across as painlessly as possible. With his primary power stifled though, he may seek to create traps that will supposedly make the game easier, or take an altitude/distance advantage.

Relationships: Lokarri, Ally and first aquaintance in the Omniverse.

Combat Styles: Neal would prefer keeping at a range, so when confronted he'll always attempt to dodge and flee to a safe distance, and an altitude advantage if such is possible. Seeing as he has a "Gamer's mind" he'll seek to defeat anyone he comes across.

eligible Powers: Insight, Telekinesis, Basic Superjump, Master Acrobat

Extra: Neal can be slightly sociopathic, and switch from very excitable to very calm when the need arises. Think "Fanboy" to "Shoulin Monk Zen" by taking a nice, deep breath.

"Game Over" - After a victory
"Game On" - Before a fight
"MORTAL KOMBAT" - Battle cry
"Ninja Jump!" - When super jumping
"Headshot" - After a critical blow to the head, his own or otherwise
"Double Kill" - After a second consecutive kill
"Triple Kill" - After a third consecutive kill
"Killing Spree" - After a fourth consecutive kill
"Unstopable" - After a fifth consecutive kill
"Godlike" - After a sixth consecutive kill
"Flawless Victory" - A victory without taking direct damage
"I'll be back!" - Before death

Sylvia and Guu were riding their chocobos down the path. The gothic second in command was busy trying to follow the map to whatever backwater place they put the registration booth. The pink princess herself was just mulling over what exactly she was getting herself into. While it was her idea to go, she still felt a little nervous to join a battle competition. Especially considering she’s only been in one other fight in the Omniverse.

Eventually, the booth showed up around a bend. It had large colorful advertisements that were attached to its sides. A large booming sign made it no doubt what it was there for.

Guu and Sylvia dismount from their chocobos. The two turn to each other.

“Well, I guess this is good bye. Please be safe out there, and remember we support you no matter what.”

She gave her a nod in response. Sylvia gave Guu a big hug before climbing back onto her chocobo.

“I’ll wait until you’re through before I leave. Go on ahead!” She said, outstretching her hands encouragingly.

Guu stepped towards the booth. She waited in line with a bunch of ninja, elves, orcs, and goblins. She had heard horrible rumors about the legendary place known as “The DMV” and wondered if it was anything like this.

The line ahead slowly got shorter and shorter, as she watched them one by one walk off solemn and defeated.

‘Huh, maybe I won’t get in after all.’ She thought ‘They seem to be rejecting a lot of these tough guys. And I’m just a kid… mostly.’

Eventually, all that was left between her and registration was the orc in front of her. He suddenly flipped out, throwing his arms up into the air in rage, pulling out his battle-axe.


“I’m sorry sir, we can’t allow secondaries in the competition.”


Suddenly, a guard bopped him over the head with a hammer and the security team dragged him off. The guard that took out the orc turned to the crowd.

“Sorry for the disturbance! Carry on!”

Guu stepped up towards the booth, grabbing the worker’s attention. She found she was too short to even look over the table and pondered if this was a case for disqualification.

“Hi. My name is…”

“Ah! Guu! We were wondering when you’d come by!”

Maybe it was because she lived in such an isolated place amongst people she considered kin, but she had forgotten completely that she was an Internet celebrity and could be recognized by complete strangers.

Another employee came out of the booth with a stool and placed it in front of her. As Guu stepped up to be more level with the table, a registration form was pushed in front of her. She noticed half the contents were already filled out.

“Oh yeah, we already knew a lot of that stuff already so we thought this would make things more expedient for you.” Stated the guy behind the desk

“All of us are big fans of yours!” Said the lady that brought out the stool.

She finished up her application and then hopped off her stool.

“Please come this way!” Stated the lady, leading the princess into the booth proper. She peeked over her shoulder to look at Sylvia in the distance. The gothic second in command was waving goodbye. It gave her a bit of solace as she headed inside.

Guu sat in a chair in front of a camera. With all the lights on her, she suspected she was going to be coerced into a confession or something. A man walked into the room, dressed like a film director.

“She finally here? She’s finally here! Guu!” He said excited, moving in to shake her hand. “I’m Steve Paul!”

“…The movie director?” She replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah! I’m a huge fan of yours! I knew I just had to be here for your registration!”

Guu never dropped her eyebrow.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” She asked.

“Days. I have a trailer not far from here. Anyways. Please state for the camera your name.”

She looked directly into the camera and said:


“No no no, please say it in a way so we can edit it.”

She sighed heavily. She knew from the film crew back home that he’s looking for presentation. She got relaxed and then she played her role.

“Hello, my name is Guu.”

“Oh! Could you do it again but say your full title?” He insisted.

“Hello, I’m Princess Guu, leader of Ambrosia”

But before Steve could direct again.

“I’m here to represent my city on their behalf. With their support, we’ll show the world that Ambrosia deserves to be recognized by the world stage!”

“Beautiful! When you got the touch, you got the touch!” He turned to his staff. “Alright, no point in her showing what she could do. I think we should just show a montage of her youtube videos… Oh! Hey one more thing Guu.”

“Yes?” She responded.

“I was thinking, maybe we could get you on camera saying ‘What can I do?’ And you stare at the camera for a few seconds. Imagine how hilarious it would be if we cut to the montage from there!”

Guu, just wanting to end this already, complies.
“What can I do?” She said. She turns to the look in the camera and gave it a smug smile.

“Cut! That was perfect!” He moved in to shake her hand again. “You’re all set to go baby! Thank you for working with me, it’s been beautiful!”

Steve Paul walked of to chat it up with his staff over some coffee. The stool lady from before approaches her.

“Alright, when you’re ready, just head for the portal, Guu.”

“Be honest. Do all applicants go through that or is it just me?” She asked.

“Well, he’s only here to do your video in particular. You are a high profile case.”

“How is being a youtube star make me high profile enough for a movie director?”

There was a long pause from the lady as she tried to find the words to tell her. However, Guu had figured it out.

“…Gilgamesh is there, isn’t he?”

The lady only stood silent. At this point, the princess had already pieced it all together. She sighed heavily, as she leapt off her chair and made her way to the portal. She figured it was too late to back off now.

As she stood a foot away from the shimmering surface of the portal, she looked over to Steve Paul again. He was still chatting it up with his staff as the expensive equipment is packed up for the long journey home.

She sneered at them, and then stepped on through.

[Image: k9iBZ60.jpg]
Appearance – 3’1” pink haired girl with black dull eyes. She wears a pink ankle length skirt with a yellow scarf wrapped around her chest. She usually doesn’t have fingers, instead sporting arm stubs. Her eyes become a red hue whenever she dons a more social face.

Personality – Guu talks in a near constant monotone. No matter what emotion she wants to convey, genuine or otherwise, will come off like she’s bored. She is sarcastic with those she doesn’t care for and manipulative when she needs to be.
However, to those she does care for, she’s usually quite loyal. Sure she won’t hold back in being a smartass with them from time to time, but she’ll stand by them if they’re in need. It’s clear she’d rather have more friends then enemies, especially after her powers were taken.
If she ever needs to milk some manipulation, she’ll alter her face to be more sociable: her voice becomes more expressive and sweet, her eyes wide and colored red, and she even has fingers when she’s like this.

Possible Reactions – Guu joined Dante’s Abyss to represent Ambrosia on the world Stage, possibly bringing more fame and fortune to her kingdom. She knows simply being there will accomplish this goal so she won’t take it all that seriously at first, but once she finally does, she’ll be dead set for the end game. She’ll aim to win and earn her title as Princess of Ambrosia.

Relationships –
Desco: Good friends, would probably team up.
Gildarts: Faction member and ally, would not willingly attack him unprovoked
Seraph: Familiar with, on friendly terms.
Doomguy: Online friend, on good terms.
Gilgamesh: Rival. Left on peaceful terms last time but would not hesitate to fight back if he strikes.

‘Combat’ Style – To compensate for her lack of defense, she’ll combine Master Acrobat, Malleability, Speed, and Technique to dodge incoming attacks. She often just keeps dodging and waiting for the perfect moment to strike her opponent. If she can get into stealth, she’s not above getting some sneaky stealth shots in.
However, if she can manipulate the opponent out of fighting her, she would. She also prefers to let others to do the fighting if she’s traveling with a group, preferring to give orders or just being support. She usually only takes the front lines when she really needs to.
If she’s ever injured, she can use Paper Cut (see below.)

Eligible Powers – Dissemble, Hive Mind, Malleability, Master Acrobat, Shapeshifting, Stealth, Suppression, Survival

Moves – Full list: <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1308#p21330">viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1308#p21330</a><!-- l -->

Fly Paper Skin Malleability
Guu can make her skin incredibly sticky. It requires focus in order to maintain, so it's impossible to use in a battle situation. However, it could allow Guu to walk on walls or even on the ceiling.
Limitation: She'll need to move at about a quarter of her regular speed if she hopes to be stealthy with this move, as taking steps make more noise than usual.

Paper Cut: Survival, Malleability, Shapeshifting
Whenever Guu gets injured, she can move injuries and replace body parts. She’s not healing herself mind you, simply moving the injury someplace where it’s less of an inconvenience. Like a cut along her arm would be moved to her back. She could even reconstruct bones through shapeshifting her tissue as long as the broken bone is moved somewhere else to heal.
Limitations: This takes 1-3 seconds to do depending on the severity of the injury. She must be standing still or walking at a snails pace while doing it as this ability requires focus.

Geometry Defense - Tier 1 Defensive Super Move Malleability, Shapeshifting, Hive Mind, Disassemble, Master Acrobat
Guu shifts her form into shapes that perfectly dodges the oncoming attack. No matter the shape or size of the attack, she can morph in a way that could dodge it. The more silly the shape, the better. This can be used to dodge super moves.

Spit Take - Tier 1 Offensive Super Move (800 OM) Ranged Proficiency, Stomach of Holding
Inspired by her fight with Gilgamesh, Guu summons from her stomach ten random weapons (battle axes and swords) and then launches them from her mouth in rapid succession at high velocities towards her opponent. Upon injuring the opponent or hitting the ground, they melt into pink goop and evaporate into nothing.

Extra –
Adult Guu - Tier 1 Power-Up
[Image: 3SN3TIu.png]
In moments of crisis, Guu transforms into her more battle competent adult form; a 5'6" woman with knee length hair and dull red eyes. While this form specializes in close quarters combat, she still has access to all of Guu's abilities. Adult Guu is notably more expressive than her default and sometimes will show obvious signs of empathy, but elements of her trickster spirit still remains.
ATK: +2
SPD: +1
TEC: +2

Quotes – *moans annoyed*
“Oh no, Gilgamesh is angry at me for some reason. *Brings arm to forehead*”
“*About to fight a giant beast of a man.* Nice weather we’re having.”
[Image: MUsY55C.jpg]
[Image: sN7AejK.jpg]

Jak looked at Daxter, who was staring through the trees.

Jak turned his head toward Daxter who was listening to something coming from not too far away. Daxter blinked "Hey Jak, look! There's a tent not too far away... Wonder what it's for.?

Jak shrugged, but he actually wasn't too sure... Daxter... WAIT for ME!" Daxter was already on the run throughout the forest to see the tent where it was a sign-up tent with visible people. He stopped and then remembered where that strange little sheet of paper he had gotten a few days ago and studied it again. "Dante's abyss... a tournament survival style.."

Jak thought for a second, a tournament? He could...be famous and get some money here after all... but he had his doubts... He wanted to make sure he wasn't walking into some sort of trap.

"Dax, what do you think?" Jak looked at Daxter for advice and Daxter nodded "These people look...all friendly and it's not like they are goin' to poison us right, Jak?"

Jak nodded, he remembered the last time they signed up for a race, it was a death threat.

He groaned "Fine... Dax... I'll sign up.."

Jak let Daxter hop back on his shoulder and nodded looking at the man sitting at the desk and another holding a camera... "What's your name?"

Jak frowned "My name is Jak. I'd like to bring Daxter too.."

The man frowned and said "Sorry, you can't bring secondaries to the tournament. It's against the rules."

Daxter frowned "WHAT?! I can't help?! That's unfair! I'll show YOU RULES!"

The man screamed for security and Daxter was knocked out rather painlessly.

Jak growled "DAX!"

The man said "He's fine... You focus on winning and then maybe you'll see your friend again..."

Jak squeezed his fist and scribbled down notes about himself and stared at the camera "Name's Jak, I don't know what you guys want with me, but you're going down."

The guy nodded "What makes you so special..?"

Jak frowned and said "I have dark and light powers" "Want an example?"

The guy stepped back "S--Sure"

Jak closed his eyes and growled, a hand to his head and roared. Eco flared from his body. while he calmed down and turned toward the portal.

"Thank you, Mr. Jak, just enter that portal there and you're all set.."

Jak fumed and turned to Daxter "I'll be fine Dax, watch for me on the set and keep cheering." "Thanks, buddy."

Jak entered the strange portal.

Quote:Appearance – [Image: 200_s.gif][img]

Personality – Jak is a jerk with a heart of gold. He is one with the dorky lines but piss him off and things will get very serious fast. Jak is a calm and somewhat mature man but he's purely a jerk.

Possible Reactions –Jak enters for the fame, and the chance at Om. He's been betrayed so many times it's not even funny. He still stands though. Jak is now extremely cautious for those friends hiding a secret betrayal, but his list of enemies is even bigger. It's hard being a hero. At a potential loss of his allies, Jak will get angrier and angrier turning into Dark Jak.

Relationships – Jak has met Seraph for a short time in the Nexus while passing by with Daxter by his side.

‘Combat’ Style – Jak's known for his fiery head first attitude. He won't hesitate to throw the first punch if necessary.

Eligible Powers –Master Acrobat

Moves – Level 0 Super Move - Quick Charge (Requires Physical strength, and quickness) Jak can run and stand to aim a strong punch with a quick boost.

Extra – Jak isn't known to kill somebody but he does leave people to die.

Quotes – "I'm gonna kill Praxis!"
"You look like a reasonably smart man. I want information! Where the hell am I?"
"It's been a tough ride."
"You know what? Do it your way and I'll do it mine. Just don't come crying to me when the walls fall down."
"Kill Metal Heads? Get toys? Sounds good to me."
"Precursor Stone, gun, nest. (Activates gun) HAHA, eat this!
Don't touch it Daxter! Who knows what more Dark Eco will do to you.
I'm through saving the world.
To the end.
Let's go topside and see what kind of trouble we can get into.
Go back to the city Dax.
I thought you said a smart warrior never takes his opponent head on.
Dark? Dirty? Dangerous? I'm beginning to like this war.
(In disgust of Daxter's and Tess's talk) Oh please! Will you two take it outside!
[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' 

The walk back down to the gate had been largely silent, as the night was starting to roll in after the attack in the bar. A glance over to my HUD told me that it was two minutes to midnight, although I think the fact that the stars and moon above my head told me that just as well. Well, maybe they were above my head, or they were just a very detailed picture. Either way, my sight was far more focused on the ground since everything was still very blurry from after the close range rocket shot and not quite sobered up. Still worth it, even if I had to stop from from time to time to lean on a wall or lamp post.

Eventually I'd make it to the tent that was mentioned to be the booth that the website indicated were where I needed to go. As I got closer, the colorful advertisement with "Dante's Abyss" written all over it confirmed that, and the attendant that waited for any more contestants slash worked on her nails. Once I got up to the table, and slapped it to get her attention with the everything on there jumped a few inches. She looked up from her finger work with a fairly annoyed mood as whoever jackass disturbed her "me time" then immediately reeled for the briefest second and put on a obvious fake smile for the new sign up. It took me a second to realized that her sudden shock might have been due to the fact that I still had a great deal of blood on me.

"Ah, another contestant" She gave a practiced flourish and nodded in acknowledgement to me, despite the fact that I was already here was as clear as a plasma bolt. And the only one there in the middle of the night. "Please, right this way" She led me inside the tent itself, where a camera and stage was set up. Before I could ask what that was for, she shoved some paperwork and a pin into my hands "I just need you to fill that out and then we'll need to record an introduction for the audience"

"I thought this was a fight to the death, not a dating show" Despite my displeasure, I filled out the form with a bit of worrying speed. I've got too used to paperwork...

"A game show still needs to know who you are, even the violent ones" She answered with enthusiasm one would normally associate with people who aren't about to put their life and limbs on the line. She took the paperwork, glanced it over, then lead me in front of the camera and handed me a rag to clean the blood of myself. I really should not be pushed around so easily "Alright, Mr. Doomguy, tell us you are and why you're here. And please take the helmet off so we can see your winning face" At least she did give me the raised eyebrows when she said my nickname.

I didn't take the helmet off.

"Hello, I'm Doomguy, and I'm here to prove that I'm the toughest soldier here"

"Hmm, that's... alright," The attendant lied and still had that fake smile. Although it was now hiding an awkward giggle, the type you have when you see a thirty year old still living with his mom. "but lets have something a bit more pzazz, shall we? Something for the market people"

"Why the fuck should I care about your PR?"

"Well you don't have to, but think of it as a chance to be your real self"

I gave it a thought over and decided, what the hell. Why not. I got closer to the camera to make my self look more intimidating, worked up my best Ultimate Warrior voice, and let rip.

"I am Doomguy, the berzerker packing man and a half, 12 on a 10 point scale of badness, Bane of Hell itself. These pussies you call contestants are nothing compared to me, and I'm going to RIP AND TEAR their guts out with my barehands! They can't stand the capacity for violence that is ME, and I'm taking the first prize to show who's the real man around here!" I yelled out, fists pumping with every sentence. Not going to lie, it felt good. The attendant clapped her hand, ecstatic over my verbal throw down.

"Perfect! Now, we just need to show the audience what you can do, and we'll be done"

"I'm carrying seven weapons on my body and about eight pounds of armor and ammo. And I came in here covered in blood" I pointed out, and after a second she shrugged.

"Good enough! You're approved, just walk though the gate and I'll send your sheet"

Now I just had to make my way though some of the toughest, strongest, and most skilled primes in the Omniverse. No big deal, right?

Quote:Appearance – Demon Killer.

Personality – A hyper violent and paranoid soldier who's as abrasive as he is aggressive. His attempts to uphold some kind of moral stature, but is undercut by his own sadism. But despite having the outward personality of a bezerker, inside is a heroic and brave defender who would gladly save others at the expense of his own life. Might possibly be insane...

Possible Reactions –
As he joined Dante's Abyss in order to prove to himself that he is the destroyer of hell, as well as to others that he is capable in order to get their support, DG's first priority is winning rather than making friends. In a fight his instinct is to be the aggressor, trying to get an edge over his foes and then pushing the advantage. If there's a fight he knows he can't win, he'll try to avoid them until he can get the upper hand. While unlikely to team up with others, he would not backstab them but would not trust them to be as honorable

Relationships –
Guu - has talked to a few times before, once in a heated argument and another in order to bury the hatchets. Mostly just acquaintances.

‘Combat’ Style – Doomguy plays a tactical game of finding the upper hand on his opponents then striking hard and fast. He uses whatever he has as a weapon, from real weapons to tools and even the environment. He is also not against getting up close and fighting in hand to hand if need be. Against a group, he will go after the strongest for and then pounds them into submission then clean up the rest.

Eligible Powers – Survival

Moves – The Full Armory

Taunt (debuff):
Doomguy unleashes vulger insult and hand gestures as a means to draw the attention of his opponent and enrage them, in the attempt to get to make a wrong move in order to attack him. Generally draws all attention to himself and announces his presence when he does so, which could very well put him in bad situation.

Tier 1 super move: Plasma Gun:
Super heated globes of plasma rain down on whoever is under the sights of this advance weaponry. It cooks the insides of whoever is hit and leave a nasty gouge in the target as their body is melted. Sustained fire can kill most of anything, but overheating can also harm DG and requires cool down after every burst.

(a second super move will be added at a later date before the game starts)

Extra – Three and a half minutes of Doomguy being a badass (gore). If he's about to go out, he'll try to take his attacker out with him.

Quotes –
"Go fuck yourself!" with complimentary middle fingers
"It'll take more than that to kill me"
"Now we're cooking with gas"
"Rip and Tear! RIP AND TEAR!"

“How did you find this place, anyways?” Gingy asked, mounted on the mercenary’s shoulder again (who was beginning to assume the ‘sore legs’ excuse was more and more bullshit with every passing minute). He looked over at Deadpool with a rounded eye. “You just somehow always know where to go.”

”Not always,” Deadpool responded. [color=red]”Just when it’s the best way to move the story along.”

“Whatever you say.”

Deadpool and Gingy arrived at the town center roughly thirty minutes prior, navigating several narrow cobblestone paths to do so. The bald fat man, though a sloppy drunk, was sober enough still to accurately give directions; by the time the two Primes jumped in line, the cloudy sky had dissipated into a clear night, which showcased a full, luminous moon.

“Next person!” an iron cladded guard exclaimed while his hands gripped a spear standing in front of him; his voice was deep and filled with bass. He removed a hand from his weapon and pulled back the flap to the tent, allowing an awkwardly dressed—futuristic, rifle wielding—woman to exit right.

“What, didn’t make the cut, Ruil?” The voice came from the blond middle-aged man that headed the line into the tent.

“It’s a fucking reality show, based on killing one another,” she grumbled, stomping towards the clock tower’s direction.

The man stared silently at the distancing woman, but soon kneeled down to clench a bag near the left of his feet, and followed her.

“Next person,” the guard bellowed a second time as he noticed the line leader trail off. He held the flap open as the teenage boy in front of Deadpool entered; his body disappeared into the tent’s depths, and the guard allowed the flab to curtain back over its entrance.

”You’re up next, Gingy.” Deadpool murmured as he glanced over at the gingerbread.

“Is this ‘Dante’s Abyss’ really about healthy competition, or killing one another?” The mercenary could hear Gingy’s skepticism like an improperly used snare. But he was right to question. The picture Deadpool painted on the way over to the tent—one of fair competition, involving cunning—omitted the two distinct words the pamphlet mentioned: survival and ruthlessness.

”I mean, from what I read it seemed pretty cool,” Deadpool replied.

“I didn’t like how you said that.”

”What you talking about? Baron didn’t include any type of descriptive words for my dialogue. Now you’re starting to sound crazy.” The mercenary learned enough about the gingerbread in their short time together to know his humor was a propitious way to diffuse Gingy.

“Whatever, man.” Gingy’s words proved Deadpool correct. As the guardsman repeated the word ‘Next’, Gingy dismounted the mercenary’s shoulder and landed on his feet. “Looks like I’m up,” he said, readjusted the lollipop on his back, and entered into the depths of the tent.

* * * * *

Upon entering the tent, flashes of artificial light disorientated the gingerbread. There was a multitude of electronics—all except for a row of monitors were foreign to the pastry—positioned on the left side of the tent. He threw a hand up to shield his visage, but it was futile—the snaps of light shot over and around his hand and arm, still reaching his face.

“Welcome.” Gingy finally lowered his arm to see a redheaded woman to his right—she sat behind a laminated fold-up table, wearing spectacles that shined from all the light. “Your name?”

“Gingy,” the pastry replied. His eyes looked past the churning portal across from him and shifted between a few of the electronics with barrels attached to their fronts. “What’s all this for?”

“The cameras? They are here to record your abilities, when you are requested to present them.” She grabbed one of the stacked clipboards on her table, along with a one of the pens grouped next to it, tucking the pen under the clip and handing it to Gingy as the pastry took cautious steps towards the table.

The gingerbread took the clipboard and mulled over its contents before pulling the pen from the top and filling in the blanks. “Some of these questions are pretty fuckin weird,” he muttered. As he finished the last section, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

Her green eyes became partially visible as her head tilted down to examine the paper. “Alright, all the necessary information is here.” She looked back and pointed an index towards a camera over the left side of the pastry’s head. “Please showcase some of your physical attributes. Then you may go into the portal.

Gingy took a single, confirming nod and stared directly into the barrel of the camera the woman directed him to focus on. With a quick levering of his arm, the Lollipop Staff swung over his shoulder and across his body. The weapon spun in his hand before he clenched it with both, wrapping his nubs around the rod. Immediately, he swiped it right, then left with an upward diagonal swing. “YAH!”

“That will be enough,” the woman interjected. “Thank you.”

Gingy stopped. “You sure?” He slung the staff back over his shoulder. “I don’t feel like you saw all that much.”

“I saw enough,” the woman replied. “You may step through the portal.”

* * * * *

Deadpool peeked over at the face of the clock tower—7pm, the hands translated—as he waited for another ‘next’ to be bellowed by the guardsman. The futuristic woman and middle-aged man conversed on the corner under the tower, but to the mercenary it was inaudible jabbering. Unlike the person that went before Gingy into the tent, the woman—Ruil—had returned back out of it. She was either rejected, or like she said, declined.

”So,” Deadpool began as he turned his attention to the guard, ”what happens if I’m accepted?”

The guard’s brown eyes shifted under the shadow of his helmet. “Upon registering, you will be transported to the Danteverse,” he said in his strong voice. “Accepted or not.”

”Oh, ok.”

As the next couple of minutes passed, the mercenary kept himself entertained with Gingy’s cellphone—a quick browse through OmniTwitter produced more than enough muffled giggles. The online clamoring produced by Dante’s Abyss’ hype was resounding. All over the Omniverse Primes seemed to be tuning in.
If this event is half as good as the hype claims it to be then I’ll be swimming in OM. I’ll have my Healing Factor back to optimal in no time!

“You’re next,” the guardsman said after a command from within the tent. He pulled the flap open for the mercenary to enter.

”Yay,” Deadpool said like a preteen girl, dropping the cellphone into a thigh-belt compartment. ”Finally, after a thousand n some words.”

He slipped through the entrance of the tent and surveyed its interior. Cameras and monitors consumed the entire left side of the tent, along with a table to the right, and a gate ahead, with a swirling belly.

He knew his gingery accomplice awaited him on the other side of the portal. And he liked to imagine, at least, the little guy was missing him already.

“Welcome,” the woman behind the desk said. Her well-groomed appearance dwarfed that of any woman Deadpool had encountered during his stint in the Omniverse thus far. Her red hair was sharply cut at ear-length, just overlapping the sides of her glasses. “Your name?”

Deadpool approached the desk and leaned over it. ”Wade Wilson,” he replied, with raised cheeks. “Most people just call me Deadpool, though.”

“Right.” The woman never brought her eyes up to the mercenary; instead, she took a clipboard from a stack on the table and handed it to him. “I need you to fill this form out. Pens are right here.” She hovered a hand over the pile pens and then returned her attention to a messy mound of inked paperwork.


Deadpool took a pen and began to fill out the form. Some of the questions were peculiar, but the mercenary assumed all of them were somehow necessary. Upon completion, he clamped the pen at the top of the clipboard and handed it back to the woman.

Quote:[Image: DP_Registration_zps9wy3a7zi.jpg]

Her green eyes widened as she analyzed the form. “Well, this is special,” she said, bringing her eyes back up to the mercenary. “There’s a camera next to the portal that will record you as you showcase your talents. Is that alright?”

”Sure.” If it was a talent show the event wanted, a talent show it would receive.

Deadpool turned to face the camera to his left and unsheathed the katana over his right shoulder—shing! With a slanted slash forward, he grabbed the hilt with both hands and rotated the blade towards his own chest.

The woman’s eyes jolted up. “W-what are . . . you doing?!” she yelped, but her voice did nothing to stop the mercenary.

With a thrust backwards, the Deadpool dived the cold blade of his katana midway through his abdomen; a squirt of blood spewed out. As the tip of the blade jutted out near his rear-end, he let out in a gurgling squeal, and pulled the ensanguined blade back out, allowing a pool of blood to usher onto the blanketed ground.

The woman threw her manicured hands over her face in horror, and let out a shriek as a few droplets of blood splattered across the clear cover on the table, just missing her formal attire.

Vertigo reclaimed Deadpool’s senses as his Healing Factor activated; the room went into a spin, twirling around the mercenary as if he were on a carousel. Sinews close to his spine latched back onto fresh muscles, which his Healing Factor exerted to the forefront of his injury. As the wound closed over, skin layered his stomach thrice. He was almost good as new.

Almost was not good enough, however. The mercenary collapsed to one knee, preventing a total fall by slamming his palms into the bed of blood his wound produced.

All the woman could do was rise from her seat and spectate in discomfort. “Are you alright?!” she cried, not knowing exactly how to react.

”Yeah.” With a hand over his gut, the mercenary gingerly rose to his feet. His body wanted to fail him again, but with all the might he could muster, he maintained his balance.”Am I clear to go through the portal?” he groaned, looking up at the woman, with heavy eyelids.

“Y-yes.” The words barely passed through her trembling lips.

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

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

As Mami entered the Nexus once again through the Vasty Deep gate - Or at least what she had thought was the right gate - She found herself in a tent. Strange - She could have sworn she had gone through the right gate... It looked the same, and the beach even reminded her of the one that she had first landed on. Perhaps she was still half-asleep and not seeing properly? She shrugged off just about everything on her mind and looked about; Nothing seemed worth summoning weapons for, as no weapons had been turned on her. "Have you come to sign up for Dante's Abyss?" Mami followed the feminine voice up to its source, a beautiful woman a few inches taller than herself, with long raven hair coloured like Sasuke's, pale skin, bright blue eyes and rounded, soft features. She wore simple clothes - A white blouse and straight black pants, like she had half-finished putting on a suit. It was certainly simple compared to how Mami looked. "We still haven't seen anyone come from that portal, so you were a bit of a surprise. Sorry if it's a bit too quiet around here!" she giggled and covered her mouth with a few fingers on her left hand.

"Dante's Abyss..." Mami repeated. "Sounds interesting. What am I getting into?" the woman looked giddy at that response. "Ooh, it's gonna be great! A bunch of Primes will be fighting each other to the death with nothing but the clothes on their back and what we give them!" Intrigue turned to shock as Mami wondered just how good of an idea this would be. It would give her a reason to be here, above all else, and that was a good thing. "Oh, but you can't just sign up. Show us what you can do," the girl finished and snapped her fingers while stepping back. "First, give us your name." Us? Suddenly flashes of white blinded Mami, though the pint-sized gunslinger quickly adjusted to the brightness. She exhaled gently, shut her eyes and held her arms out directly in front of her. From her sleeves came a pair of ribbons, which spun together in a wide cylinder until suddenly a massive percussion-lock cannon had appeared in between them.

"I'm Mami Tomoe, and this is Tiro," Mami chimed, giving one of Tiro's barrels a gentle pat. "Sorry, but he needs reloading, so I can't fire him. Besides, I'm pretty sure he would level this tent!" Mami laughed a little as she walked along Tiro's left side. Oohs and aahs filled the air alongside the sound of digital cameras going off, and white flashes reflected off Tiro's surface. Mami looked down Tiro's left barrel, where she saw nothing but caked-on gunpowder and some residual flames from when she had dispelled it. "Awwww, poor thing... Don't worry, I'll get you cleaned up soon." With a gentle clap of her hands, Tiro disappeared and a ring of rifles appeared around her. "Of course, I don't just have one gun. I doubt I'd be able to fight on my own without the firepower of an entire army." Mami summoned a little cup of tea on a saucer for herself, which she took a sip from.

"In Dante's Abyss you'll only have one weapon, and it's not guaranteed to be a gun," one voice commented and almost caused Mami to spit-take. The veteran Magical Girl swallowed hard and lowered her teacup. "Well, may the odds be in my favour, then. This should be a fun little challenge!" Mami let a smirk spread across her face as her rifles disappeared. The cameras and the lights seemed to disappear as the woman from earlier approached her again. Maybe she had a similar power to her own, but with cameras instead of rifles. But where did that voice from earlier come from? Mami shrugged it off. The woman was holding a clipboard now, with a cute little fountain pen strapped to it next to a piece of paper - The fountain pen, she noticed, had DANTE'S ABYSS written along its side with a little logo of some kind. "I'm sure you'll be an interesting addition to the Abyss!" she cheered and Mami took the clipboard with a smile that mirrored the woman's. Quickly Mami put down answers for everything on the piece of paper. "Congratulations, Mami! Go ahead and step through that portal over there," the woman finished, and Mami stepped forward toward the portal, which looked like someone had torn open the world, or like someone had taken a container of space down to Earth and spilled some. It nauseated her to look at... But she continued toward it slowly but steadily.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic. Off you go!" Mami heard the woman's voice behind her and she was about to object, but she felt hands on her back pushing her into the portal before she could say anything. Only a weak yelp escaped the girl's lips before she was tumbling through the rip in space-time. As long as it gave her something to do, it was worth it, right?

Quote:[Image: Mami_Tomoe_Anime_Design.jpg?20110119212928]
Say hello to Mami Tomoe~

Personality – The Mami most people see is a gentle, polite and almost motherly persona, used to cover up how she feels for herself and others. The real Mami is much more emotional and frail, though that Mami rarely shows. Typically she observes her surroundings (People, things, etc.) from a very objective and mostly logical standpoint, though she lets her feelings show in her smiles and in how she treats those around her. Though odds are this will not be relevant, Mami adores tea parties.

Possible Reactions – If she were to wind up in a face-to-face with Harry, she would offer a friendly greeting, but treat it as a means to redeem herself and start fighting with everything she's got, possibly even using her Power-Up right at the beginning of the fight. If she were to wind up in a face-to-face with someone she likes or is close to, she would probably play defensive for a while before waiting for the best opening to knock them unconscious and, if she knows the possibility exists, wait until they wake up and set up an alliance. If that wouldn't be possible, then she would just run off. Otherwise, she would probably be nearly unflinching in serious attitude during fights except for perhaps the occasional moment's hesitation before killing if it's necessary.

Mami is going into Dante's Abyss to find a purpose in the Omniverse, even if it means dying while trying to find it.

Relationships – Mami's fight with Harry drives a rivalry stake between the two, to say the least. Mami is (possibly) on good terms with Sasuke, so a possible temporary alliance could be in order if they worked together. She left on good terms with Lubbock, as well, so an alliance between the two of them likely wouldn't hurt.

‘Combat’ Style – Mami fights for others above all else, but if her life is put on the line while others' are not, she'll defend herself where necessary - After all, if she's dead or crippled, who will protect her friends? She typically prefers to face her opponent head-on, firing everything she's got at anything that moves until whatever moves stops moving - But that's when she has the ability to summon as many weapons as she needs. A Mami limited by quantity of weapons would be more likely to find a means of ending the battle as quickly as possible without killing. This could mean shooting a target in the leg so they cannot pursue as she escapes, or using the terrain to prevent a target from getting to her (Squeezing through a relatively small gap to escape from a larger opponent, for example).

Eligible Powers – Master Acrobat, Basic Super Jumping, Foresight

Moves – N/A (None qualify)

Extra – Mami has a Power-Up! (+1 ATK, DEF, TEC, +2 SPD - Or, in other words, 4 ATK, 2 DEF, 5 SPD, 4 TEC while used)
If she started a battle in bad condition compared to her opponent, or if her weapon/equipment was worse than her opponent's, she would use her Power-Up to compensate. However, she would at the very least consider that she might be in a life-or-death situation where it would be smarter to use then. If it already is a life-or-death situation, then ignore the think-about-it point entirely.
Do note, as well, this would be the first time Mami ever uses a Power-Up or anything that uses SP. 'Cause, y'know, I forgot she was Level 2 for a while.

Quotes – "Before you make a wish for someone else, take a moment to think about what you really want. Do you really want the other person's benefit, or the opposite - Their everlasting gratitude?" "Afraid of someone stronger coming along to challenge you? That kind of thinking is only for losers."
Quote:Making this post right now so I don't wait for another week. Yeesh...
[Image: KBSao70.jpg]

Quote:Continuing from In A Flash:
I found a strange tent while running. It was large, with a plain employee, some cameras, and a gate. I have heard of this gate; the gate to the Dante Verse, which I had heard of on the Dataverse.

Taking a pen and a signup sheet, I signed up for Dante's Abyss-I was pretty interested in the idea of winning something. I loved the idea of the Artefact prize, one of my own design, no less.

Quote:Appearance – [Image: Flash1.jpg]

Personality – He is mostly about justice, but he has a normal life, too. He seems to be a different person outside the suit. In the suit, he's serious, and a bit of a commander/leader. He's also a bit of a strategist. Outside the suit, he's a giant nerd, due to him being a forensic scientist in his world, and is actually more about fun.

Possible Reactions – He is here to get an Artefact, hoping it will help him with Darkseid. Nonetheless, he's a friendly competitor, and, seeing as he has no enemies in the Omniverse thus far, will probably try to make some sort of ally in this mess.

Relationships – N/A, he has met no one. NO ONNNE!

‘Combat’ Style – He will defend his allies above all, and if he has none at that point, he will most likely just circle the opponent while running, looking for an oppertunity to strike.

Eligible Powers – N/A

Moves – N/A

Extra – Expect him to be enjoying his time here. ((I can control my character pre-show, right?))

Quotes – N/A

After signing up, I showed up on camera for a few quick seconds, talked about how excited I was to be entering DA, tried to get it settled that my name is The Flash, not the dang "Streak", and entered the Dante's Abyss portal. I wasn't worried about losing and dying a painful death-heavens no-my problem was the crime in Coruscant, and Darkseid...
[Image: life-is-strange-ep-2-banner.png]

Vincent, the brothers Sola and their newest companion Nanaki had crammed in tight aboard their escape vessel, this time motoring at full speed toward the coast. Though they did not much want to be found and captured by the Empire, they had reasoned that by this point it had been a few hours since they had slighted the Empire and they had yet to meet untimely, fiery death. They also did not fear any attacks from the pirates Vincent had assaulted, as the winds had remained largely calm for some time. With this in mind, the Prime had pressured Tal to head due north as fast as their ship would take them.

“Costa del Sol should be around twenty minutes North of here at the rate we are going.” Nanaki spoke over the roaring engine. He sat calmly beside a slightly terrified Ral, looking out over the ocean.

“So...um...friend of yours?” Ral inquired, being careful not to make contact with the newcomer.

Vincent nodded, smiling. “Yes. We have some history.”

Nanaki chuckled. “If you call nearly dying several times a history.”

Ral nodded, finally taking a moment to examine the beast. “So, what's your name?”

“I was born Nanaki, though I have been known as Red XIII recently. Whichever you like is fine with me.”

The younger Sola boy nodded. “Nanaki. I like it,” he mused.

Over the course of the trip, Vincent and Red XIII spoke about their latest escapades. After filling the burgundy quadruped in on his own exploits, the ex-Turk listening intently to his comrade's tale. At some point following the destruction near Edge and Vincent's subsequent journey into the rift, there had been a massive earthquake with the epicenter being at the precise location where he had 'fallen' into the Omniverse. Red, along with Cloud, Barret, Cid, Tifa and Yuffie had managed to get many citizens out of Edge and the surrounding towns during the chaos, though at least a handful of people had gone missing and were presumed dead. Some days later the team had returned to the site of the quake, looking for any survivors. It was at this point that Nanaki had found the rift that Vincent had fallen into.

“I neared the rift, and I thought that I could hear someone speaking,” Nanaki explained. “It sounded like you, Vincent. You had been missing for days and when I heard your voice, I closed in on the rift, only to be dragged in and arrive here.”

The cloaked Prime nodded in recognition. “I assume you saw Him?”

Nanaki nodded in turn. “The one who calls himself Omni, ruler of this 'Omni-verse'.”

Vincent paused to mull this information over. The rifts in his homeworld had persisted, even generating massive earthquakes and causing destruction in Edge. He wasn't sure if things would have been different for the town if he had been there, though he ventured that lives could have been saved. He cursed his current predicament and the people that had needlessly died. To add insult to injury, he had also inadvertently dragged his friend into this universe-sized prison. Though the thought that his friends were alive, concerned, and looking for him did give him some semblance of solace, it also only strengthen his resolve to return home.

“After reaching the Nexus,” Red continued, “I found that I could somehow 'sense' that something familiar was on the horizon, so I headed here, to the Vasty Deep. Upon stepping through the portal and reaching the sands of Costa del Sol, I could clearly sense that it was you. As I attempted to find a vessel with which to reach you, I was captured by the lovely men that you froze back there.”

The ex-Turk did not respond. So, Nanaki had likely sensed the conflict that the gunslinger had had aboard the Imperial ship and headed toward him, only to be ambushed. “I'm sorry, Nanaki.”

“Do not apologize, Vincent.” Nanaki said simply, shaking his beaded mane. “It was not you that brought me here, but my fear for your safety. Now that I find that you are safe, we can work on finding a way back. It is as simple as that.”

“That's gonna be harder than it sounds,” Tal called over his shoulder. “I haven't heard of anyone ever getting out. Hell, you'd probably have to meet the big man himself to even stand a chance.”

Vincent turned to face the helmsman. “That's not a terrible idea.”

“Yeah well, the problem is that no one knows how to find the guy.” Tal snapped, glancing back at the group.

“The men that captured me mentioned being in the employ of someone named Karl,” Red replied, turning to Vincent. “They said that he's powerful enough to control an entire dimension, one that he calls 'The Danteverse' that houses an area called 'Dante's Abyss'”

The cloaked Prime nodded. “Tal mentioned the same thing.”

“Well, that's as good a place as any to start, right?” Ral chimed in. “If he can create a dimension, he probably can get you home, or at least get you to where Omni is!”

“If that's even possible.” Tal added.

The gunslinger furrowed his brow, resting his chin on his armored fist. It did indeed seem like meeting this 'Karl' person would be his best bet. It was his only real lead to go on at this point; whether it lead anywhere or not he'd have to wait and see. “So, what did Karl want with you?”

Nanaki gave his approximation of a shrug. “It seemed like he needed to defend something. The pirates kept mentioning something about needing to bring a fearsome creature back to 'spice up the fights'.”

“The mercenaries were talking about the Abyss like it was some kind of contest. They sounded really excited about watching the bloody battles.” Tal called over the roaring engine. “Also, for those interested: I can see the coast!”

'Spicing up the fights'? 'Bloody battles'? It sounded to Vincent like this Dante's Abyss was some kind of combat competition. With the excitement that the mercenaries displayed, Vincent could only assume that it was some sort of large-scale death-match. He hoped that this was not the case. Whatever it turned out to be, Vincent resolved to make his way to the ringleader of the competition and find the answers he sought.

“Should be there in a few minutes, folks. Get yourselves ready to run if you see any Imperials!”

The quartet pulled in close to the shore, killing the engine. Tal directed the boat behind an outcropping of rocks and wedged the hull between a few large boulders. The crew hopped onto the rocks, staying low to avoid detection. By that point the sun had begun to rise again, pulling back the darkness of the night. Just over the rocks, Vincent could make out the silhouettes of small houses near the shoreline; Costa del Sol.

“There's the city,” Ral muttered, squatting behind a smaller boulder. He paused for a moment before speaking again. “So...that's new.”

Vincent saw at once what the boy had meant. Smack in the middle of the beach stood an enormous white tent, sprawling nearly 50 meters. The prime could barely make out a group of a dozen or so people that appeared to be mulling around the entrance to the tent. A banner stretched across the tent, hung squarely over the opening. The prime could clearly read the message, though he could have guessed that this point what it might say.


“Of course it's right out in the open.” Tal shook his head. “I can't go down there, they'll catch sight of me right away. They've got me on 'THE' list.”

“He's right.” Ral said, nodding. “I can see at least 5 stormtroopers from here. They're standing right at the door, too.”

“You three should be fine, the mercenaries barely even saw Ral and Vincent and they have no reason to pursue Nanaki. They only care about me,” the elder Sola said, taking a seat in the dirt. “Just head over, I'll wait till this calms down and head back to Coruscant or something. I have some contacts in the lower levels that can hide-” His words were cut short as his brother's fist collided with his head.

“Are you stupid?!” Ral snapped, “I'm not just leaving you here after going through the trouble of breaking you out.” He sighed, glancing back at his comrades before taking a seat beside his brother. “Sorry, Vincent. I have to stay with my brother.”

The pale Prime nodded. “Understandable.” He turned once more to examine the growing crowd on the beach. There were indeed a good many Imperial troops on the sands, composed of Stormtroopers as well as a great many figures in identical gray armor. He weighed his options for a moment before turning back to his comrades. “Nanaki, you should stay with the boys. I'll head to Dante's Abyss alone.”

“I cannot let you go alone, Vincent. You may need help in there; who knows what other unsavory entrants may appear.” Red replied, surveying the beach.

“Well, we can't just leave them to find their way home alone,” Vincent replied. “I get the feeling that this sort of competition won't allow for two winners, anyway...” He trailed off, sighing.

After a slight pause, his quadrupedal comrade spoke. “You may be right. Go ahead and enter, if I sense that you are in distress, however, I will have to come in after you.”

The pale Prime nodded, though he doubted his friend would be able to sense him if he left this dimension. He got the impression that Nanaki's arrival in the Omniverse was not by chance; it was likely that he had been lured in by the realm's master as another sick game, perhaps to simply enrich Vincent's “plot”. The ex-Turk would not be able to forgive himself if harm came to Nanaki, especially if by his own hand. The group said their goodbyes, and the gunslinger made his way toward the registration tent.

Vince strode up to the tent, tightening his bandana and the buckles on his mantle. He then stopped for a moment, his right hand falling to his holster, and pulled Cerberus free. He cracked the barrel, spinning the chamber a few times and locked it back in place. The gunslinger than pulled the trigger a few times, ensuring the firing mechanism was not jammed from his recent saltwater bath. It clicked freely and easily, signifying a working mechanism. Following this short routine, he concluded that he was now as ready as he possibly could be for a tournament like this. As he renewed his approach toward the tent, he mulled over the multitude of spells that he thought he may find himself in need of.

“Greetings everyone!” A voice called, echoing from a large loudspeaker near the door of the tent. “I'm glad to see that so many of you have turned up for this event. Please form an orderly line if you wish to register, and those that have already signed up, please head into the main reception hall. Anyone else, please feel free to chat with your fellow combatants before getting in line. Remember: big decision! Lots of glory to be had!”

As the loudspeaker finally died down, the group began to thin out, with about half of the people in the crowd heading toward some smaller booths off to the side of the entrance. The rest neatened up into a single-file line, with some entrants chatting with those in front or behind them. Vincent took his place at the back of the line, barely noticing the entrants around him. Many of them seemed to be the typical muscle-bound tough guy in need of proving themselves, with around half of them already shirtless and making every effort to make themselves look bigger and more menacing than they really were. The ex-Turk kept to himself, contemplating how he would deal with the combat that was to come. Inevitably, he would need to kill many people through the course of this tournament, though the thought did not shake him. He had killed before and, thanks to his Turk training, he was numb to the idea. Indeed, though many would find him cold or even cruel for his thoughts, he would have no regrets about ending the life of someone if it meant returning home. Everyone entering, including Vincent himself, was placing their life on the line by signing up.

The line filed through quickly and the gunslinger soon stepped into the tent, observing the occupants. Vincent's overall impression of the setup was that it all seemed quite bland. Everything seemed very practiced and fast paced, as if this had happened many times before. The employees near the door were all dressed in identical nondescript clothing, a simple black polo and slacks. The majority of the others within the tent looked to be with the press, toting cameras and sound equipment and catching entrants during the registration process. At the far end of the 'room' stood a large glittering schism; what Vincent could only assume was the portal into Karl's dimension.

As Vincent neared the portal, a stern-looking woman stepped into his path. “Name?”

Vincent stopped abruptly, locking eyes with the woman. “Vincent Valentine.”

“And what makes you worthy to enter the Danteverse?”

The gunslinger thought for a moment, having not anticipated needing to display his skills. He look around quickly, glancing over his shoulder at the nearest newscaster. A bored-looking man with a horrible comb-over, he was glancing at the line of entrants and chuckling, shaking his head slowly. Choosing his target, Vincent focused on the man and began muttering an incantation. As he finished the cast, he noticed the almost imperceptible, telltale sheen spread across the man's back.

“What'd you say? I can't hear you when you mutter, dammit,” the Syntex employee snapped.

Vincent turned to face the woman, again meeting her gaze. Without breaking eye-contact, he quickly pulled his revolver from the holster and fired a shot blindly in the newscaster's direction. The registrar's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as the shot pinged uselessly off the man's head, burning a hole in the roof of the tent. The ex-Turk then released his concentration, breaking the spell. He allowed himself a glance in the man's direction, noting the shocked look on the man's face as the shiny aura faded. The newscaster, as well as the rest of the occupants of the tent, stared dumbfounded at the cloaked gunslinger for a few seconds before glancing at each other and back at the attacker. Vincent could feel the cameras focusing, as those anchors that had not just been shot at began to close in on him.

“Well. Um, I think that'll do...” The registrar stammered, handing the Prime a clipboard. “Just fill that out and return it to me and then you can head on through. Welcome to Dante's Abyss and may you do well.”

Quote:Appearance –
[Image: FESaFbK.jpg]

Personality – Quiet, calm and logical, he appears stoic and slightly intimidating to newcomers. He has a very unassuming attitude and does not like to draw attention himself, as this allows him to observe and learn unhindered. Though a man of few words, he is very polite and never overtly rude or mean unless he feels threatened (like, gun to the head, not "You saw I was in line first,"). In a situation like Dante's Abyss, he will have a 'get the job done' attitude toward combat, operating under the assumption that anyone on the island wants him dead. Vincent tends to be somewhat distrusting of the average person, both due to his training in espionage and his own personal experiences. This is only magnified by the nature of the contest; it would take significant development to trust someone in the Abyss.

Possible Reactions – Vincent has entered Dante's Abyss with no false assumptions of what the contest will entail. He is willing to go through whomever he has to in order to win and get what he desires. He is motivated by the thought that winning will get him more information on the Omniverse (and escaping it) from Karl Jak, aiding him in perhaps returning to the 'family' that he left behind in his realm. In this way, it is more of a desperation attitude than a glory-seeking mindset. Though he dislikes manipulating people, he is well-versed in espionage and will do what needs to be done.

Relationships – None.

‘Combat’ Style – When in combat, Vincent prefers to size up his opponent and does not typically throw the first punch. He has a tendancy to put an ally's well-being before his own if he fully trusts the person. Typically he does not desire to kill every person he fights and would rather let them flee, though as he has no choice in this instance he will have killing intent. He is not one to toy with opponents nor does he allow the same of his opponent. To him this is a necessary evil, not a playground.

Eligible Powers – Master Acrobat, Burst Movement, Basic Super Jumping (Reduced from 10 meters to 10 feet), Basic Suppression, Stealth (Can't avoid F2F)

Moves –
Overflow – Tier 1 Super Move

Extra – Whenever possible, Vincent prefers to dodge rather than clash and fight at range. In the face of an opponent rushing him with a sword for example, he is apt to roll out of the way and attack from behind. If he is forced to fight hand-to-hand he will focus more on getting his opponent into a position that he can quickly kill the opponent (drown, snap necks, knock off cliffs etc.) rather than beat their face into the ground.

Chaos Cloak – Tier 1 Power-Up

Quotes –
"Don't toy with me."

"I'll do what I have to do."

"I said I've heard enough. It's time to end this. Right here, right now."
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Dante's Abyss '15
Vincent Valentine

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Dante's Abyss '16
Grand Champion
Nanaki/Red XIII

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(07-16-2018, 06:14 PM)Lord Zedd Wrote: I'm here to kick ass and write compelling stories with Vincent Valentine.

And baby, we're all out of Vincent Valentine.

Okor shambled through the gaudy colours of the tent, moving into the designated area for aspiring competitors. Several strange devices pointed towards him, hovering around, using some strange technology not unlike Loyalist Landspeeders. Was this realm so opulent they could use skimmer technology for entertainment? A man stood at the other end of the tent, swaddled in luxurious garments, embezzled with gaudy jewels, feathers, and swatches of bright cloth. He turned to face Okor, his hair impeccably sculpted, his skin hidden beneath a thick layer of cosmetics. "One moment sir, I'll be right wi- OH GOD!" The man fell back, slamming a hand over his mouth, fighting the urge to vomit. The hovering cameras skimmed through through the air, achieving a full view of the scene. Okor advanced forward, squatting in front of the cowering man, who was having to fight off an offense to his nostrils, his eyes, and his sanity. "Mortal. I wish to..." He paused for a second, a rattling cacophony emerging from his chest as air was sucked into his four lungs, becoming eternally tainted as toxins and plagues infused its very essence. "Enter your contest." The interviewer, significantly relieved that he was not about to be eaten alive, relaxed slightly. "Y-yeah, sure. Just... Just gimme a minute to get it all set up." He passed a small stack of papers to Okor, accompanied by a pen. "Just fill this out, and I'll be ready to interview you when you're done." Interview? This was an arena. Why did he need to be interviewed? This realm played by different rules, he supposed. He would have to follow them.
Quote:Appearance –
[Image: chaos_space_marine_plague_marine_color_b...4fjqdj.jpg]
Okor's armour has long since fused to his flesh after 10 millennia of warfare and exposure to the reality-twisting ways of the warp. It is now more of a chitinous exoskeleton. His abdomen and left arm are exposed, showcasing the blessings that the plaguefather has gifted upon him, and allowing for him to transmit them more easily. Indeed, the sheer quantity of diseases and bacteria contained within his gaunt frame would be enough to rot a planet to the core, were it not for the Omnillium containing it. Unlike most of his bloated Brethern, Okor is almost skeletal, with cracked, yellowing bones, covered in calciferous masses lurking just beneath his pallid skin. A tabard hangs from his waist, stained with grime, filth, blood and pus, and still proudly emblazoned with the mark of Nurgle. A horn juts from the center of his head, a twisted, broken thing. Beneath it lies a single, blood-shot eye. Where he walks, life grows. Fungus and mold grows in his footsteps, marking the earth with his passing.

Personality – Okor is genial, generous, extremely patient, and positive. He is an ardent devotee of Nurgle, and will correct any misinterpretations of his motives. He believes that all things end, and should be savoured for as long as they last. The worship of Nurgle should be spread, in order to speed the universe towards its inevitable gentle rebirth. He's always happy to stop and chat, although he does try to bring the conversation towards his faith.

Possible Reactions – Okor is an infantryman, and a blessed warrior of the god of plague. If there is an advantage to be had in a fight, he will take it. Spreading disease, endurance hunting, fear, sheer stamina, whatever it takes to defeat the enemy, Okor will do it. However, he's not wont to make enemies recklessly. He happily invites fellow to a seat around the fire, and shares some tales, riddles, undoubtedly unhealthy stew, and life lessons. He does not intend on betraying anyone, although when the pool of competitors drops, he will have no compunctions against fighting his one-time enemies.

Relationships – Okor dueled Victor Wolfe upon his arrival to the Omniverse, a battle that ended with Okor heavily wounded, and Victor unconscious and rethinking his life choices.
He has also met Carn, who introduced him to DA, and gave him an inkling that this realm is not what it seems.
He has sworn to ally with Galel Baraz and Tartaros, two fellow veterans of the long war.

‘Combat’ Style – Okor is well aware of his durability and endurance, and uses them as his main weapons. He will gladly take hits for his smaller compatriots, and is able to endure his foe's blows until they run out of stamina, or he has the perfect chance to strike. If impaled, he is more likely to slide along the weapon to strike at his foe, than scream.

Eligible Powers – Survival.

Moves – Necrotic Touch?

Extra – Okor is absolutely incapable of feeling pain, which is a double-edged sword. While it allows him to fight on past injuries that would leave a lesser being crying in pain, it means he does not notice his injuries until he sees them. He will walk on broken legs, unaware that shattered bones are tearing at his flesh, attempt to strike the death blow with a useless arm, and will happily walk away from a fight with weaponry digging into his back, leaving an exploitable opportunity for any other foes. In short, he takes damage, but he simply does not notice it.

Quotes –
"You cannot stand, as you... stand for nothing."
"I am Okor Paleblood, son of the blessed fourteenth legion. I have left my.... Tread upon a thousand worlds, and helped raise an Empire spanning a million stars. I intend to watch it crumble, and to put my blade through the heart of its... God Emperor. But of course, where are my.... Manners?"
"In every rotting corpse, in every fly, in every leper. In every child, in every forest, in every ocean, in every beating heart. Everywhere, he exists. The universe itself will one day cease, and when it does, Nurgle will be there. When the last maggot, in the carcass of the last beast, on the last planet, orbiting the last star finally succumbs to entropy, Nurgle will be there. When reality itself falls apart, when all that is left is the primordial sludge of raw potential, he will raise it again, and we will be reborn. There will be no more war. No more pain. No more want. And until then, we will fight. We defy the doom of reality, by embracing it."
"Speak your... lies, spit your empty, meaningless defiance. Scream your... nihilistic hatred of reality. Know that all of your skill, your speed, your... sadism, was nothing. Know that you failed. You threw yourself against the faithful, and broke upon their power."

Okor settled into a reinforced seat, attempting to refrain from oozing into the red leather. He would hate to be a poor guest. He scanned his surroundings, taking in the opulence. A small table was positioned between himself and the interviewer (who's name was Scott, as conversation evidenced), which was laden with small felt pine trees. A local custom? How curious. The interviewer leaned back in his chair, as cameras orbited them. "So, Okor, was it? Why don't you give us a little introduction for the audience?" He leaned back, steepling his hands, gazing into the camera with his eye. "I am... Okor Paleblood. I have left a million dead on a thousand worlds, wrested an empire from the claws of an uncaring galaxy, and... have spent ten millennia tearing it apart, piece by piece." The interviewer clapped his hands, evidently quite pleased to have found a suitable champion. "Well then, Okor, why don't you show us what you can do?"

He stood, the seat groaning in relief that his massive weight had been lifted. A droid shambled out of a tent flap, its hands replaced with blades. It's optical array scanned over Okor, seeking weaknesses in his armour. He drew his Plague blade, keeping the corroded sword loose at his side, waiting for the droid to make the first move. Suddenly, the machine surged forward, sliding twinned blades of steel between his malformed abdominal ribs, causing a small amount of clear vitae to adorn its blades. Scott sighed, and marked off a box on his paper. "Well, looks like another jumped-up-" That was when Okor moved.

Okor slowly advanced on the droid, the blades sinking deeper into his atrophied organs. The machine stammered error codes, obviously operating beyond standard parameters. As the blades burst from Okor's back, his hands clasped the drone's head, gazing deep into its multifaceted cameras with his cyclopean eye. The protests quickly devolved into binaric shrieks, as Okor began to crush. Sparks and oil flew as he compressed its steel skull into a fraction of its size, ceramite and diseased skin making a mockery of the metal being. Its synthetic cries ceased, and it sagged to the ground, blades slowly sliding out from Okor's stomach. It twitched on the ground, sparking from its critically damaged processors. He turned, facing the pathetic, tiny being of Scott, who was currently attempting to sink back into his chair. "Was that... satisfactory, Mortal?" Scott nodded vigorously, his mouth hanging open. A hidden door slid open in the back of the tent, white light pouring from the entrance. Stabbing his blade into the machine, ensuring its demise, before sliding it back into its loop. He shambled forward, stepping through the light, and into the Abyss.
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"I am Galel Baraz." He began, his third eye staring at the Syntex Employee like a laser sight, unnerving the middle-aged man. The Sorcerer tapped one of the papers with his large gauntleted finger, which was easily twice as large as that of the clerk. "I wish to register for this 'Dante's Abyss' tournament, as is evident by my presence." He withdrew the massive hand, staring at the Clerk. "Ask your questions, and fill out the forms as I command." Galel spoke, his voice booming through the vox-speaker on his helmet. The clerk nodded, grabbing a pen nervously and writing Galel's name at the top of one of the papers in front of him.

"What is your reason for applying, sir?" The clerk asked, moving on to the first question on the list.

If he must ask a question like that, then he must be a prisoner in this warp-realm as I am. Galel reasoned, then scowled beneath his helmet. "I have nothing better to do." Galel answered. It wasn't a lie, but neither was it the truth. As far as Galel could tell, Dante's Abyss was the whole reason that he was here. If it was not, then Galel probably had more important things to accomplish, but Dante's Abyss could be a good way to gauge the strengths and weaknesses of any adversaries that managed to survive it. Plus, if Omni was speaking the truth about being reborn from death, then Galel had nothing to lose in fighting. Finally, the ever mysterious prize was one that Galel would not allow any but one of the Astartes to claim.

While Galel pondered, the Clerk hastily jotted down his answer, fearful of angering such an imposing figure. Once he had completed that, he moved on to the second question. "Do you have a problem with being recorded and interviewed?" the man said, his nerves calming somewhat.

"What is the purpose of that question?" Galel replied, narrowing his mortal eyes even as his third eye widened to take in more details. He did not wish for potential enemies to know his method of combat, nor what equipment and powers he could manifest. If it meant he could not compete, then he would just have to be smart and avoid using showing a pattern during combat.

"The whole thing is televised." The Clerk explained. "And the Interviews are available publicly to the contestants and viewers."

Galel mulled the idea over. So long as he did not reveal anything important, then he could work with this. "Very well. I consent to being recorded." He answered.

The Clerk nodded, and then pressed a button on a camera that was on a tripod beside him. "Introductory Interview of Contestant P-42, Galel Baraz." He said, moving back to his papers. "Please repeat for the camera your reason for applying to this contest."

Galel scowled beneath his armour, his third eye glaring at the camera lens. "I require no reason. It is the will of my lord that I am here." He said, clenching a ceramite-gauntleted fist. "I intend to bring glory to the name of Chaos." He seethed, choosing his answer carefully. One slip up was all it would take to reveal too much about his nature and plans, and he couldn't have that.

"What do you think qualifies you to participate in Dante's Abyss, Galel?" The clerk asked, his pen hovering above the paper, ready to write down everything that Galel said.

"You require combatants. There is no greater combatant than one of the Adeptus Astartes." He answered, somewhat offended.

The Clerk looked as if he was waiting for a longer answer. He waited a few moments, then tilted his head. "Aaaand... can you tell our viewers what that means?" He asked in a slightly insulting tone.

Galel clenched a fist, his Third eye glaring straight at the interviewer. Who are you who do not know the Astartes? Galel thought, angry at the prospect of not being recognized for what he was. Even in the Warp they know of my kind. None in the galaxy can say they have not heard of the Astartes, whether the Angels of Death, or the Scourge of a Billion Worlds. Galel stayed silent for several seconds, contemplating his answer and the implications of the Clerk's question. Finally, he spoke. "We are the sons of the Primarchs and grandchildren of the Corpse-Emperor of Mankind. Those who witness our passing are blessed, and those who face us are doomed. We are greater than a mortal in every way imaginable, and our weapons are the finest ever forged by human, xeno, or daemonic hands." Galel turned to face the Camera, his third eye staring into the lens with an almost unnatural stillness. "None who stand against an Astartes can be considered sane. It is not courage that might drive you to face us, but stupidity." He said, his words dripping with malice and spite.

The Clerk, obviously unimpressed by his speech, stared at Galel. "Well then, mister 'Astartes'... why don't you show us what you can do?"

Galel scowled, standing and drawing his Force Sword from its ornate azure scabard. Hefting it, he glared at the Clerk. "Find someone who would deign to attack me." He ordered, and the Clerk nodded, pressing a button. Moments later, a man dressed in heavy riot gear strode into the tent with a riot shield and stun baton. "Lay your weapon upon my flesh and I shall leave." He barked, opening his arms wide. The guard looked to the Clerk, confused. The Clerk nodded, motioning for the guard to attack.

Galel chuckled as the Guard rushed towards him, stun baton poised to stab Galel in his third eye. Four feet away, and still, Galel stood with arms wide. Three feet, and Galel smirked. Two feet, and he moved. Even as the baton came within a foot of his face, Galel's blade swung upward. Mere inches from his eye, and the Force Sword connected. Arcs of sorcerous energy leaped along the baton even as it was severed in two. The Guard stumbled back, clutching his now burned hand. He only had a moment to contemplate the pain before Galel's blade was thrust into his skull, and sorcerous energy coursed throughout his body, causing his head to explode. Galel grinned, withdrawing the blade and looking to the Clerk.

The Clerk swallowed, terrified of the man before him. He turned the Camera off, then finished his notes. "Y-you qualify, Mister Baraz. Please, go on through and enter the portal." He said, handing Galel the filled out form. "G-give this to the first Syntex Employee you see when you arrive."

Galel stood, taking the piece of paper gently in one hand. He nodded to the Clerk, and made his way out of the back of the tent. The glowing rift in the skin of the verse crackled with energy before him, reminding him of the warp he was so familiar with. "Am I truly no longer in the universe I knew? Is Omni no Daemon, but a god? Questions pounded against his mind, unnerving him. Galel glanced back to the tents, seeing Okor, Carn, and Tartaros finishing their interviews. They would be along soon, he knew. The Sorcerer turned back to the whirling vortex, his third eye flitting about and examining every minute detail even as it shifted and changed. "This, is art." He muttered as he stepped into the blinding light to the Dante Verse.

Quote:Appearance – Galel is a large man, as is typical of Astartes. His head is shaved bald, including his facial hair. Standing roughly seven and a half feet tall in his Power Armour, he has a light brown complexion and a pair of dark brown eyes. His teeth are sharp and pointed, the result of a mutation given to him by his dark god, and he has a third eye squarely in the middle of his forehead. This third eye is a light blue orb with a lizard-like yellow pupil, and constantly flits about examining every detail it possibly can.
Galel's Power Armour is a scavenged amalgam of parts, only the helmet and pauldrons of which dates back to the days of the Great Crusade. His helmet is a battered MK V Heresy-Pattern Power Helmet, while his Pauldrons are MK III Iron-Pattern. The left Pauldron proudly displays the symbol of Tzeentch, while the right displays the symbol of the pre-heresy Thousand Sons. His armour is painted in the iridescent blue and gold of the post-heresy Thousand Sons, and tattered robe bottoms are worn over top of his greaves.

Personality – Calculating and Manipulative, Galel is quick to make acquaintances but incredibly slow to make friends. While he finds it easy to get to know someone and forge relationships and bonds; he rarely, if ever, tells the truth about himself and his history. He does not trust anyone, least of all those closest to him, and is vigilant to the point of paranoia. On the surface, he is almost always calm and collected, while in truth he is highly emotional. Quick to take offence and to forgive it, those who truly know him would describe him as volatile and unsteady.

Possible Reactions – Galel first and foremost looks out for himself and his closest allies: Okor and Tartaros. He will not hesitate to sacrifice any other acquaintances if it would better their chances of success. When meeting others, especially those that are completely unknown to him, he acts friendly at first, so as to gauge them and their disposition. If he believes that someone cannot be of better use to them alive, he will attempt to kill or cripple them. When faced with a downed but not killed opponent, Galel will finish them off, sometimes quickly and sometimes slowly.

Relationships – While Galel has no true Friendships, he considers Okor and Tartaros to be his closest allies. Carn is considered an unknown element, one to be watched and studied instead of relied upon.

‘Combat’ Style – When confronted, Galel delivers a swift and brutal alpha strike to his foe. If his foe survives, he fights on the defensive in order to gauge their capabilities. Once he has determined a weakness, Galel will strike again with lethal efficiency and ruthlessness, exploiting his foe's weakness as best he can. If confronted by an enemy he knows he cannot defeat in a fair fight, Galel will retreat and prepare an ambush for his foe, in order to maximize his chances of quickly dispatching his opponent.

Eligible Powers – Galel currently has no powers at all.

Moves – Last I heard, no moves were allowed, but one move could be upgraded to a level 0 Super-Move. I am nominating Warp-Energy Barrier as a level 0 defensive Super-Move.

Extra – Galel is a liar through and through. Even when speaking about mundane matters, he must resist the urge to lie. When he does tell the truth, he twists it into half-truths and perverts its meaning. Galel is also utterly devoted to Tzeentch, his dark god of change, fate, and black magic. He will never defy the will of his dark God, nor will he defy the will of the other three gods of chaos unless it would contradict the will of Tzeentch.

Quotes – "Nagnaresh Vi'ral! Change is near! Let all who resist its coming be cast down and reborn as mewling spawn!"
"Who are you who resists the will of fate?"
"I hate blanks."


Jon let out a quiet, inaudible grumble as the people stood in front of him took a small shuffle forward, his place in the queue upped by one spot when another stepped out and towards one of the many booths scattered around. Was this line ever going to end?

Jon predicted he'd pass on from some old-age related cause before he could even get a chance to reach the front of the queue and sign up for this 'Dante's Abyss'. Snow's mood was fairly sour and dampened, just a bit more than usual; Commander Hammond decreed that Jon go along with the ninja boy to the Abyss. His punishment and repayment for whatever crimes he had committed back in Corucsant, Jon assumed. But the bastard didn't care to mull any further on that at this time.

He'd exchanged few words with Sasuke since they'd got here. Arnold had ordered a small platoon escort them here, and the trip was mostly silent. Jon was far too wary of their forced alliance - what if he that strange toxin kicked in again and he turned once more? Jon inhaled sharply. The silence was growing somewhat awkward now, and Jon had decided he'd have to be the one to break the ice.

"What happened back there?" he posed the question with his harsh, deep Northen tones. He arched his head slightly to look back at the shinobi youth. He looked young - almost the age of Jon when had rode from Winterfell and joined the Watch - but the kid was not all that far off from his height, either.

Not as short as Crona had been compared to him, at least...

"My back was turned and I got stabbed with... something..." the ninja sighed, head turning away slightly. He almost look disappointed and angry to have been thrown off of his guard so easily. Jon squinted.

"I need to be able to trust you won't turn like that, again. I can't- "No, don't worry" the shinobi cut him short. "It's all out of my system now, and even if it isn't, activating the cursed seal seems to... negate it's effects somehow. the ninja shrugged loosely. Jon inhaled sharply through his nose, turning back. Even if Jon still had shreds of doubts, he couldn't find an argument to combat that one. He'd witnessed the sudden change unfold right before his very eyes, after all. How he'd gone from a rampaging weapon of carnage, mowing down Stormtroopers with his bare fists and bolts of electricity to a young man confused by what had all just unravelled and happened.

It took some minutes for the line to grow shorter and shorter. Jon and his newly-found companion kept taking small steps forward each time before Snow finally found himself at the forefront of the queue.

"Who's next? Anyone?!" a perky feminine sounding voice sounded out from one of the booths, a youngish looking girl glancing around frantically from behind her small table, moving two fingers to push up her glasses.

Jon took a last, quiet glance back at Sasuke as he strolled out toward the booth, though he could of sworn he paled a bit more than his usual skin tone when he caught a glimpse of who he'd be talking too.

He could tell the girl wasn't very old already, but at a closer distance she looked even younger. About ten-and-nine or two-and-ten, Jon predicted. She wore weird glass lenses that rested at the bridge of her nose. Faint freckles dashed across her cheeks. Fiery orange hair hung down low past her back and waist...

That was what made it ten times harder for Jon. Her hair was kissed by fire, the Wildlings would say. It was just like hers...


"Hi there!" the bubbly girl greeted Jon as he paced over to the booth, speaking with enthusiasm, optimism and a certain apparent giddiness for her work ethic. She lacked the the Northern hinge of an accent and dull and playful toning to her voice that Ygritte had had. She bared little resemblance to Ygritte, however, aside from the freckles and the flowing, orange hair he have loved so much. And that was enough.

Enough to remind him of what he'd had to do.

Jon's lips formed into a tight line. His words hung around in his throat, and just as Snow had regained some composure and re-arranged his thoughts, the lady behind the both spoke for him with a slight raised brow. "Are you... looking to participate, perhaps?" she questioned him. The brightness in her tones had vanished a little, but a warming, welcoming smile was still spread across her lips. "...Aye. That, I am" Jon replied simply and bluntly. "Alright!" the woman exclaimed as she rose from her seat. The bright enthusiasm had returned to her pattern of speech almost immediately now. She moved to the other side of the booth, rummaging through a stack of papers before bringing a single sheet back over, laying it before Jon as she seated herself once more, and reclined back in her chair in a relaxed fashion.

"We just need you to do a bit of paperwork. Nothing much, just... name, age... all that jazz. You can read, right?" she tilted his head up at him. Jon gave a silent nod in response, his expression stern, solid and guarded, just as always. On the inside he felt a shred of annoyance and degradation from her questioning, though. What was he to her, some kind of simpleton?

The lady smiled, reaching into her pocket as she pulled free some... strange, short, thin object. A writing tool, Jon picked up quickly, but it was a make of which Jon had never seen nor touched before. It was no ink pot and quill, that was for sure...

"Urhh..." Jon stared at the pen being offered to him with a slight look of concern and disray. The staffer blinked a couple times, before he pupils dilated. "Oh! Right! You're from Camelot... heh, sorry." she gulped, leaning down to the side slightly as she slid the narrow table drawer open carefully. She began fishing through it for... something.

Jon stood in a puzzled silence for some seconds, before speaking up once more. "I don't know where that is" he stated, simply and coolly. The woman looked back up at him slightly, giving him a puzzled glance. "Ahh, Camelot. I don't know where tha-" "Wait, whaaaaa?" he was cut off almost immediately. 'What kind of heavy rock have you been living under? How can anyone NOT know what the Kingdom is? Jesus, I almost took you for the kind of guy who'd fit right in there, with that sword and fancy get-up you got going there" she quipped him a sweet smirk. Jon couldn't help but just return the gesture, the hint of a smile present upon his lips.

A few moments of searching through the drawers later, and the woman had located what she was looking for; a feather quill resting in a small pot of ink. Scooping it up, the lady plopped it onto the table in front of her and slid it over to Jon, alongside the sheet to be filled. "It's all yours" she said with a slight smile, leaning back in her chair as she folded her arms across his chest patiently. Snow bent down slightly, retrieving the quill as he dabbed it into the watery ink, coating the ends of the feather with the black substance. He promptly put pen to paper (or quill to sheet, as he'd be more comfortable calling it) and began jotting away.

Quote:Appearance – [Image: tumblr_mq399nmiWu1sb1bqro1_500.jpg]

Personality – Sullen, solemn and honourable to a fault, Jon follows his fathers example greatly in being a man of reason and selflessness. He grew up soaked in justice; he'll always try to do what he considers the right thing and the morally good thing to do. Jon's not a man who takes his own words with a grain of salt, either. Nine times out of ten when he says he'll do something, he'll do it without question. Being a bastard child, he largely grew up under the shadow of his true born siblings, most notably his older brother Robb, and this left him sheltered, quiet and shy. He's not socially inept by any means, but he much prefers his own company, making him appear as something of a lone wolf or a distant outsider to others.

Possible Reactions – Jon, along with Sasuke, is entering Dante's Abyss to clear his name from the apparent crimes he'd committed under Imperial law. Jon's not going to purposely go out of his way to make the contest a misery for the other players, but he's not completely clueless about it, either. He know's Dante's Abyss is a contest of survival more than anything else, and that he'll probably have to do things he wouldn't like or usually think of doing. He understands it kill or be killed. He'll attack and slay anyone who provokes him first with little mental doubt about it, and whilst he'd try and stay out of the way of others for the duration of the game, if killing another would be a benefit to him or solidify his longevity, he'd attack someone first. The only thing Jon will struggle majorly with, however, is killing women and children. Since he's come across numerous child primes, however, he's mental preparing himself for the worst already.

Relationships –
Sasuke Uchiha - Jon's been forced into a unlikely partnership with this kid for Dante's Abyss, since they both now have debts to work off to repay the Empire. Though Jon's still slightly wary of their alliance, since he doesn't know much about the young shinobi as of yet, they'll undoubtedly grow closer and get to know one-another and where they both came from as the competition progresses.

Crona - The first other Prime Jon encountered when he was pulled into the Omniverse. They travelled into Corucsant together, and when the purple-haired boy was about to be attacked by the maniacal robot Sivo, Jon was the first to step in and protect him. Jon likens the shy youth to his late brother Bran, and was quite protective of him whilst they travelled together. Meeting again and finding out he's alive, that strive and desire to protect Crona would probably re-emerge in Jon.

‘Combat’ Style – Jon's an extremely patient and tactical fighter. Rather than go in with his sword swinging, Jon adapts a much more defensive kind of style and fighting, parrying blows from his opponents, waiting for them to make a slip-up of any sort so he can swiftly exploit it and gain the upper-hand. Jon's loyalty to his friends and those who he considers a friend is undying, and Jon would do anything his power to protect someone he cares about, even dying for them if needs be.

Eligible Powers – Foresight, Telepathy.

Moves –
Fist of Wun- Tier 1 Super Move
Warging - RP fodder

Extra – Nada, I think you'll do just fine.

Quotes –
"Winter is coming."
"What in Seven Hells?!"
"Different roads sometimes leads to the same castles."
"There's no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it."
"Some men want whores on the eve of battle, and some want gods."
"We look up at the same stars, and see such different things"
"I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men."

As Jon concluded the form, he plopped the quill back into the ink pot, carefully sliding it back across the table to the woman along with the sheet itself. Shoving the quill and ink pot carelessly back into the drawer, she plucked up the Jon's sign-up form, eyes scanning over it quickly from behind her glasses with a slow nod. "Mrmmhmmm... uh-huh... alright!" the ginger haired girl smiled with optimism, casting the letter aside into her "to mail" pile.

"What happens now, then?" Jon question her promptly, head tilting to the side a little. "Well, now... we get your interview done, and the you can head through the portal and enjoy the remainder of the pre-show!" she responded giddily. Jon's eyes narrowed a tad. "Interview..?" he shot back the question almost straight after. The staffers smile vanished a little at his lack of mutual enthusiasm.

"Oh, don't worry... it's nothing big like that. They just want to know your name, why you're here, all the jazz the lady paused, glancing about to make sure nobody was looking before she leant over the table slightly and spoke quieter. "It's all for the fan appeal, you know...?

Jon blinked silently a few times in response. "Right..." he stammered out after a few awkward seconds of bewilderment. "Good!" the staffer exhaled sharply with a slight laugh as she reclined back into her seat. "Just head... that way" she peered over her shoulder, motioning to a camera set and green screen set up for the recording part of the process behind the registration booths. "I'm sure the cameras are ready for you, just walk on in. Remember to smile him!" she flashed him a wide grin, Jon grinning back faintly as he flicked his palm as a farewell kind of gesture. He spun on his heel, swiftly moving off.

He must have looked like a fool, doing that.

He didn't spare a glance back for Sasuke as he walked, but rather the red-haired beauty whom he was leaving behind. Jon sighed briskly. There were select times, not many, but a few, where he really did miss girls.

But that was the price you had to pay to become a man of the Nights Watch, though, he recalled.

Getting to the interview area was simple enough. He just followed the direction he'd be pointed in and slipped past a few of the other booths. Soon enough, he found himself walking "on set". A thin, green wall that looked like someone could bust through it with a single punch was mounted up high behind him. The cameras stood on their own, pointing right at him with an occasional red flash. Snow did a good job at hiding his discomfort at that.

"Take a seat" one of the men positioned behind the cameras commanded. Jon glanced behind him, setting himself down onto a small wooden stool. He slipped his black gloves from his fingers, resting his hand wear in his lap. Faint burn scars still were still etched into his right hand.

"And... roll the cameras" the same guy who had told him to sit balked another command. The cameras began recording, focusing in onto Jon's face. Jon didn't know which camera he was meant to be looking at, so he diverted his gaze between the three that stood active before him.

"Tell us your name..." the man pulled up a script. Jon glanced over the camera toward him, exhaling sharply through his nostrils. "Jon Snow..." he murmured, loud enough so he was still audible. "And why are you entering Dante's Abyss, mister Snow?" the interviewer glanced over the checkboard he was clutching in front of him toward Jon, still well out of sight from the camera's view. Jon hesitated in his answer at first, pupils dilating. What was he supposed to tell them? Arnold hadn't covered this.

"To represent the Empire, and win myself glory, honour and fame" Jon craftily lied through his teeth. A half-lie, at least. Jon was here on behalf of the damned Empire, indeed, but if he'd had it his own way and hadn't gotten himself ravelled all up in this mess, he'd be back in Westeros and at the Wall by no short timing at all.

"Hrmmph..." the interview glanced back down at his check board, flicking through his script. One of the other men standing beside him wiggled his brows, stepping forward to peer over Jon. "Wait, hold on..." he spoke up before the guy interviewing Jon in the first place had a chance to continue. Jon diverted his attention over to the intruder.

"I've seen you before... you were on the Omniverse News Network the other night" Jon squinted. What?

"I wasn't" Jon snapped back quickly in response, but the man shook his head. "No, but you were. You and that... purple headed-demon child fought that robot in Corucsant... they covered it last night." Jon's expression soured a bit at that. But of course...

"Is there any insight you could... give to the fans on that note, Jon?" the interview, who had gone momentarily silent, spoke up once more. Jon inhaled ruggedly, staring straight into the camera's eye. "I was protecting a frightened and confused child from being murdered. That's all you need to know." Jon shot a glare at the interview men, rising from his stool, carrying his gloves with him. "And we're done here" Jon stated coldly, bringing the short interview to an abrupt end. He stormed off the set, making his way towards the portal.

He didn't bother to wait for his ninja companion to catch up. Sliding his gloves back on, Snow stepped into the portal, a luminous array of shining, bright light masking his departure into the Danteverse.
[Image: tumblr_nzzfidB5IX1tcnpluo4_1280.png]

Vehicle and traveling companion all but forgotten, Erza strutted forwards toward the crowd of rougher-looking mostly-humanoids. Those who had fled upon her arrival didn't interest her at all - it was those who stood unflinchingly in her path, or who hadn't even taken the time to notice her yet, who she wanted to meet. That, and the fried chicken and Pepsi at an adjacent booth appealed greatly to the fact that she hadn't eaten since arriving in this increasingly-intriguing place.

She approached the food stand, where a surprisingly smartly-dressed young man was calling into the crowd, loudly showing off his wares as though the surrounding crowd somehow couldn't smell them. When his gaze fell on her, he continued yelling, but more excitedly. "Ah haa! Another fresh prime, ready for the chop-show! Keep yer energy up with my delicious, nutritious, ooold country fried chicken! Just a couple Omnillium a pop!" By the time those words were fully out of his mouth, however, a bubbling pink-and-yellow puddle of pure energy was already seeping into the rinky-dink wooden tabletop, and Erza was comfortably leaning up against the corner, the shifted weight of most of her body and armor causing the booth to wobble precariously as the attendant scooped the raw Omnillium into a cash register, seemingly oblivious to the plight of his stand.

"Chicken leg, Bubble juice, keep the change if you tell me what you meant by "Chop-show?"

The man snorted, amused. "REALLY new prime. Yeah, we're a Pepsi-only stand, ya got that? And, you don't know? That over there's the signup for Dante's Abyss, big battle arena dealio. Doubt you'd do all that well, you obviously have no fighting experience if you've just arrived here." He gave another condescending smirk, handing over the chicken Erza had ordered.

She began to chew as the man continued to explain the imminent event, letting off a very quiet sigh. Not bad. Delicious crust. Too bad... "Mmf. Just give me water then." Accepting the offered cup, she stepped to the side as a large brute of a man, almost as well-armored as she, stepped forward and made his own order.

"What is UP with these people?" She wondered aloud. "So snide. And this Abyss thing, it sounds a whole lot like the Grand Magic Games. I was fantastic there, why shouldn't I get a shot here? And I totally look like a battle-hardened warrior." She flipped her hair to the side and maintained a derisive frown.

"What's to stop you from signing up then?" Erza turned to the side to find that she'd managed to float her way over to the central booth, the one actually set up by the competition's official personnel. "You certainly look capable enough to me!" A perky, almost pixie-esque young woman, no older than Erza, grinned up at the disheveled warrior from her stool in the booth. "Signups are right here! Go on, take a form!"

"I bet you say that to all the hot chicks." A light smile made its way up Erza's face. The girl seemed sincere enough, and an ego boost was always welcome. "But, I think I will."

Quote:Appearance – [Image: 4502523-4153286559-42536.jpg]

Personality – Erza enjoys difficult and strenuous tasks, such as harsh training, construction work, and keeping goobers like Natsu in line, just to name a few. She is rarely completely off her guard, and tends to sport her Heart Kreuz Armor as casual wear. Furthermore, she has a tendency to become irrationally irritated with the slightest disturbance from her will - For example, her slice of cake was smooshed, or her first ever picnic was rained out. Erza lacks a number of social graces, being used to the ability to knock down anyone who gets on her nerves. She is somewhat obsessed with a number of rather silly things - She absolutely loves singing and acting, though she's terrible at both, and any opportunity for a picnic (which she's never experienced, and has highly romanticized) becomes the first priority over any other pressing matters. She also is secretly a huge fan of smut, though getting to know her tends to reveal this plainly enough after a time.

Regardless of these... Quirks, Erza has a very strong moral code when things get serious. She will fight to the end for her friends and those she deems worthy of protecting, putting them even before herself, and will not back down when something she believes in is on the line.

Possible Reactions – Erza is entering in an attempt to show that she is just as worthy of praise in terms of battle prowess as she was before coming to the Omniverse. By extension, she is also representing Fairy Tail to some degree, and will do her best not to bring her guild shame, be it through simply performing poorly or taking morally grey paths to victory (e.g. manipulation, backstabbing). As such, any such actions of others as observed by her will be treated with utmost severity - She is more likely to try and keep things clean (unlikely though that may be) than to actively try to win against other players she deems worthy.

Relationships – Gildarts - The two know eachother from their home world, and were allies and solid friends there, but have not yet met in the Omniverse.
Emerald - Recent travel partner. Probably won't be participating, but eh, it's all I've got.

‘Combat’ Style – Will react violently towards rebuffs and sabotage, and will actively protect her friends and allies above herself most of the time. More offensive than defensive in terms of combat, especially when wearing armors specifically attuned to that purpose.

Eligible Powers – Super Jumping (Basic), Burst Movement

Moves – Only Flame Slash, which will be my Tier 0 Super Move, and Flight Armor (Tier 1 Powered-up form) If I can buy it in time for the start of the event.

Extra – Super stubborn, almost 'tsun' in how she interacts with certain characters and very overbearing when trying to get her way, but has a soft heart for good people when it comes down to it. Her favorite foods are cheesecake and souffle.

Quotes – "All I need is the power to be able to protect my comrades. So long as I have the strength to do that, I don't care if I'm weaker than everyone in the world."

"Always trying to make myself look strong, so I locked my own heart in a suit of armor and cried."

"As long as you laugh at people's suffering, your goal will always be out of reach."

"I don't care if you're the strongest or the top guild in Fiore, but I will tell you this. You've made enemies of the worst possible guild to piss off."

Erza dropped the pen back on the counter, her chickenscratch covering the page (and incidentally, the clipboard as well) that had been given to her. "Aalright! Is that it?"

The woman at the counter again turned back to Scarlet, eyes widening as the horror that was Erza's handwriting came into her view. She did, however, maintain her cheery demeanor. S'pose it's not the WORST I've seen all day. At least she's literate. "Aaalright I'll get that processed for you right quick! Oh, we also need to do this thing with a camera... Jone? Jone, get up here!"

The counter jolted upwards with a dull *thud*, sending the pen skittering off to the floor and Erza's joining form fluttering up into the cautious hands of the representative. Out from below the desk crawled a disheveled boy, no older than 13, dressed fashionably but coattails covered in mud and hair full of sticks. "Got it!" He yelled, voice muffled by a fancy shirt pulled up too high as his hand made its way up to the counter, depositing a state-of-the-art video camera, battered and muddied it seemed sheerly from contact with the little rascal. Jone crawled to his feet beside the helpful girl, rubbing his head and quietly agonizing over his recently-acquired injury. "Sorry about that." It was the girl again, and Erza turned to face her. "He's... A mess. Anyway! Promotional video time!"

The sprite of a woman lifted the video camera and began to roll.

"Huh? Wait! I'm not ready, turn it off!" A scratchy and out-of-tune series of warm-up arpeggios came hurdling out of the redhead's throat, and the two underpaid employees made eye contact while sporting identical cringes. The camera was still rolling. Erza struck a pose, giving the camera an angled, solid stance, feet apart, face serious and sword in hand. "Alright, I'm ready, let's do this! I'm Erza Scarlet, otherwise known as Titania!" She lifted her arm, pointing her sword directly at the camera. "And I'll be showing YOU my strength, and the power of Fairy Tail!" She held the pose for a moment, then allowed her newfound excitement to flood her face, giving her childlike energy as she rushed up again to the girl holding the camera. "Ha haa! Did you like my performance? Ooh, that was fun, do we need to try another take or is that one-"

The woman chuckled, held up her hand to Erza's face to cut her off, and turned off the camera. "That'll do quite nicely. Aaalright, in ya go!" She pulled back a curtain behind her, making an opening in the booth-front and pointing towards a wonky-looking rift in the back of the tent. Erza took two hesitant steps forward, then one back. Wait, am I actually nervous now? No way... I can't let the chicken guy be right. I'm totally suited for this. And with that, she steeled her nerves for the coming journey and strode briskly onwards through the portal.
[Image: Erza_kicks_Happy.gif]

The preteen machine didn’t know how to feel about the events swirling around him. There was something strange going on in Darkshire, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. With Whirda away and Mireya injured, he knew he shouldn’t stray too far from the town in case things suddenly boiled over. There was no telling if any of the other primes from the Tarrasque fight would come to try and claim the weird little trinket Whirda had claimed from the monster.

As he walked down one of the larger streets in the town, Proto Man’s eyes caught the small assortment of tents that stood where there had once been a park. When Whirda had expressed some interest in exploring what the tents were, the machine had laughed her off, but now a few days had passed in which the crowd never seemed to fully diffuse.

“What is this?” Proto Man asked as he walked over to the park and turned to the nearest person he could spot—an older man dressed like a semi-successful merchant.

“Dante’s Abyss…” the man replied, his tone making it seem like the robotic child was an ingrate for being unaware of the tents’ purpose. “Have you not been paying attention to the Dataverse or any other source of news?”

“Humor me,” the robot replied with a scowl as he glanced into the largest tent and saw that there was what seemed to be a large portal tucked beneath the tarp structure.

“They say it’s some sort of survival contest in some new verse ruled by some guy in fancy suits… They say the contestants will all get great prizes, and the top people will be made into demigods or something. It’s hard to tell what the truth is and what is just sensationalizing, but everyone wants a piece of the pie. The people running it are doling out cold, hard omnilium to local vendors and offering up spots to advertise at their facility. I’m here to try and get some booth space, and I know a lot of the other people here just want to be able to go and visit the facility. If you saw any of the pictures, you’d know why… it’s some sort of giant palace.”

“What about the actual competition?”

The merchant shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just for primes. Secondaries are just there to try and get some of that delicious trickle-down,” he said with a grin. “The big tent over there is for registration for the actual competition.”

“Thanks,” Proto Man muttered as he started over toward the central tent. With a smile, the red robot passed under the flap and found his attention immediately drawn to the portal he’d spotted earlier. As he took a closer look at it, he saw that it was wreathed by some strange machines that were probably responsible for keeping it open. Whatever it was for, the machines in the room were being attended by a few men in overalls.

“Can I help you?”

The preteen machine turned to see a young woman standing behind a small counter. “Is this the place where primes register for the competition?”

“You bet’cha,” she replied with a smile as she went to go grab some documents from under the counter. “Do you know what the competition is all about? You seem a little young to be interested in something like this.”

“I heard it was a survival thing,” Proto Man replied, prompting a few of the tech men to look over and flash grins at the registration girl. “Was I mistaken?”

“No,” the attendant replied. “That’s technically what it is, but it’s going to be pretty violent. You’ve got a really cool outfit on, but a lot of the people they have signing up for Dante’s Abyss are pretty vicious. I’m talking egotistical sociopaths…”

I wonder if Whirda was privy to that information before she left…

“I can handle myself,” Proto Man fought back as he lifted a hand and transformed it into the Proto Buster. “You hear about the Tarrasque?” The girl nodded her head. “I was there to help bring it back to earth.”

“I see,” the woman said with a smile as she started to jot down information on her sheet. “Then I just need to take down some informa—”

The horrible rattle of automatic rifle fire cut the woman off mid-sentence. It took a few seconds for Proto Man to realize why everyone around him looked extra terrified. How many citizens of Darkshire own machineguns? Before he could answer the question for himself, a pair of bloodied corpses was flung into the tent, prompting the tech guys and the registration girl to let out shrill yelps and duck for cover.

Turning his attention to the entry way, Proto Man winced as a few more bursts of gunfire filled the air. A second later, a bipedal turtle wielding assault rifles stepped into the tent and flashed a mouthful of jagged teeth at the preteen machine. “Afternoon, Homo sapiens,” the creature snickered as he took a silent moment to size up the space. “If I can offer some advice? You may want to do a little more about those walls.”

“You can’t be here! “ The attendant’s attempt to sound strong did little to impress the turtle, who sneered over at the cowering woman.

“Shut up,” he muttered before casually shooting her with a few bursts of gunfire. A second later, the entire tent was full of bullets. It was only instinct that let Proto Man summon his shield in enough time to defend himself. When the rifles fell silent, the android relaxed and lowered the bulwark to see that the turtle was grinning at him.

“Prime? It’s okay… I have something for you too.” Before Proto Man could object, the turtle clicked a switch on the front of his guns and pulled the trigger. A beat later, there was a massive flash of orange that stole away the android’s vision as his feet left the ground.

With a dull thud, Proto Man hit the ground and punched his hands into the earth in an effort to prevent the momentum from carrying him any further. Lifting his head, he watched as the bipedal turtle slipped his guns into holders on his back and stepped through the gate into the Dante Verse.

“What was that?” The android groaned as he stood up off the ground and walked over to the gate. A look around revealed a park lined with more than a handful of corpses. The fact that a few of them were children struck a chord with the robotic preteen, who turned his focus onto the entrance to the Dante Verse. “Someone needs to teach that sadist a lesson.”

With that, Proto Man charged through the gate.
[Image: proto.jpg][Image: DAHost.png]
Dante's Abyss 2015

"Finally! It is now my turn to go inside. It has been an extremly long wait," about 6-7 minutes really, I hate waiting. Looking at the receptionist at the open tent, she,yes a female humanform with nice cuts and curves, leads me into the larger, closed tent. As soon as I pulled up the tent cover, metal orbs kept buzzing aroung me like insects, annoying. I grab one which was a little bigger than my grip and start to crush the whirring hardware, cracking it as it belches smoke, sparks flying out of the now scrap heap. All the other floating balls back away, keeping a good distance from me but never stopped staring. Throwing off the crumpled ball on my hand, I step inside the rather spacious tent.
Inside, there was nothing more than a desk, a man in painfully colorful clothing sitting behind the desk and some chairs between us. Walking slowly towards the man who obviously saw what I just did, he tries to talk to me in idle chatter.

"I see you look stronger than what you seem," he grabs a piece of paper with some sort of scribblings on it.
"What are you trying to say? I look weak?" I stare at him with my white, glowing eyes.
"Oh no no no, it's just that the men before you were really huge and imposing. I actual feel better this way," he makes excuses. Did he mean those walking shields I brought here?
"Ah! So you are saying that I am harmless? I understand now! Thanks for clarifying," smiling at him with teeth sharp enough to cut through air with a hum. His face contorts.
"Oh...uhm....okay. Please fill in the necessary information on the spaces provided and after that we'll proceed to the interview." The man explains as he hands me a pen. Interview, what's that?
"Okay so....name is Carn *scribble scribble* age huh? Hmm...oh that. "
"After you're done, please proceed to the center of the tent so we can start the interview. I'll pretty much ask you the same questions on that paper as we record it for television. You can- oh, are you having trouble with the questions?" he asks.
"Time?! Why should I fill in the time?? I can't tell if it's night or day in this blank world!" I got upset from the lack of common sense this paper has.
"I can tell you what time it is," the Syntex employee offers
"No! I'll figure it out myself."
"You can use your phone if you have one."
"Phones can do that?? Right then!...hmm" I swipe the screen to unlock it.
"What...are you kidding me? It says 50:12, what kind of time do you use?"
"It's 12:05, you had it upside down."

Quote:Appearance –
[Image: xqgsk.jpg]

Personality – Carn is a kind and gentle soul, in the eyes of another Anomaly, and will attempt to befriend anyone for knowledge and insight on the current world. Carn will also use these so called 'friends' for personal gain although betrayal is not one of them. Being a showman in the Midnight Carnival, Carn tends to show off to a crowd of people once fed with attention, the very reason as to why Carn tries to 'act' professonal to gain fans. Carn also gets bored pretty quickly, causing Carn to look for things that catches interest or in some cases where no objects of interest is present, attacks the next closest thing that moves. No matter the situation, Carn never fails to smile, displaying a set of dangerous, razor-sharp teeth.

Possible Reactions – Carn's main reason in joining Dante's Abyss is to gain the necessary resources required to search for any stray Anomalies scattered or created inside the Omniverse and providing a place for them similar to Carn's residence, the Event Horizon. Anyone is merely considered a stepping stone for progress, good or bad. Simply talking to Carn is enough to guarantee hesitation from attacking, friends get the benefit of the doubt and strangers will be classified as "edible" or "waste". Edible ones gets eaten, waste gets the chance to be part of the soil/earth immediately.

Relationships –" I met a guy named Renji and made pleasant greetings, parting as soon as we got in a little chat about the Omniverse. A few hours later, I woke up to some shouting, grunting and clashing of metal to metal. I intervened (without knowing it was a spar session) and met Victor and Okor. Once I did know what they were doing I was so understanding that I sat down and watched them, playing with my phone in which I met this nice person named Agnès who seems nice enough to present herself to questioning. Victor lost and I felt bad for him so I called in some help to patch him up. Okor met some similarly dressed men, named uhm... Galel and, and...Tartaros, yes Tartsies!. I got them interested in joining DA and brought them here in this tent. I hope I get some help from them in some way. "

‘Combat’ Style – Carn will not attack unless annoyed, ordered to, bored or hungry. Carn operates best when given a clear objective and is most dangerous when hungry or annoyed. When hungry, everyone and everything is edible. When annoyed, everyone and everything is waste.

Eligible Powers – Burst Movement, Master Acrobat, Hivemind.

Moves – Razor Trap- "I bite with style!"

Extra – Being an Anomaly, Carn has no organs to worry about and obviously no bleeding. Being a performer for high-speed acrobatics, thousand-men swordplays that lasts for days, sword-swallowing Tremor(the giant cleaver), dancing on spikes and whatever madness , Carn has quick and enduring feet and has no problem dodging anything thrown, lobbed, shot or swung at the Anomaly. Due to the change in abilities in the Omniverse, Carn can only dodge 3 attacks but do not gaurantee a miss, before slowing down to catch breath, forcing the Anomaly to block instead.
When Carn suffer injuries that cut some 'skin', a misty cloud of black dust that can enter respiratory systems spray outwards from the 'wound'. Carn can feel the pain but the experience is obviously different, usually feeling the opposite temperature effect of a bleeding wound. eg. Feels warmer as the cold mist escapes the Anomaly.
Severing limbs causes such limbs to result to violence, once known to claim hundreds of souls after Carn lost a hand from Carnival practice.
Carn dislikes sweets since it reminds Carn of Anomaly saliva, filling thoughts of exchanging body fluids with another Anomaly.
Carn talks normally with everyone, including his narrator(occasionally sparking a conversation), writer and currently chose to talk in first-person.
In terms of speech, Carn never swears or curses but, in rare situations that demands some sort of cursing, usually from making a mistake, Carn mumbles "Darn, Carn."

Quotes –
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen!"
"I am Carn. Carn is an Anomaly."
"What are you?" -when facing something unusual and catches Carn's interest, which may result in the object of interest being covered in thick, sticky and sweet Anomaly saliva
"I'm hungry..."
"I am NOT a clown!"
"Can I eat it?"

"Okay, now go to the center so we can start"

I never knew how deceitful these people are, I was almost at the end of my wits facing a piece of paper, I'm sure the competition itself will be harder.
"Okay, what is your reason for joining Dante's Abyss? What got you interested?" he grabs the pen and awaits my answer.
"I want food," answering as short and as quickly as I could.
"Aside from food since you can eat anything you want inside, what else?"he continues.
"Food and Fame! Right! I wanna be seen!"
"Good enough." he writes it on paper. "Now show the world your combat potential. Make a good show for the audience."
As soon as he said that, more of the floating metal balls appear in front of me, each ball revealing extension arms with sharp objects carried around. One of the orbs starts spinning its arms rapidly and every other ball follows, causing the still air inside the tent to move. "Oh my..." the ball dashes forward to attack, its fellow behind its trail. With a short step back, I lean back to avoid the bladed ball from cutting my head off. As it overshoots, I grab the ball from the back and use itself to block the other incoming orbs. Funny how slow every single one of them is, probably because the weapons they carry are heavier than they are. Oh well, I need to take advantage of that. "Wahahaha. Too slow." taunting the rest of the gang as I keep on holding their brethren ball hostage. They look at each other and start charging in unison. Like a screen of electric fans, buffeting winds can be felt as they charge at me. Without waisting a second, I throw the ball in my hand at them, causing a tiny explosion of circuits and shrapnel as pieces started falling to the floor. The explosion seems to have distracted the remaining sentry orbs which gives me the chance to maul them. In a matter of seconds, the swarm was reduced to three individuals zipping around the tent border. As I lead one in a corner, the little orb shaking its bolts off, the Syntex employee claps his hands "Well done, that's good enough. You may proceed."
"I didn't get to use my weapons yet..."
"Good enough, you won't be able to use them anyways."

I turn my back from the little ball and face the rift that seems to have been torn from the air. As I walk towards the rift, the man taps on the desk with a pen pointing at my paper. I suddenly feel pain as cold metal strikes my sides, only to see it was two of the remaining balls that snuck up on me. Pulling out their weapons causes black mist to envelope the whole tent. The very thought of their did annoys me, grabbing their heads as I bite a good chunk off of each one, spitting hardware at the table. Under poor visibility, the man tries to apologize "Sorry about that, they didn't seem to settle." Patching my shallow gashes with some bandage, I grab the remaining little ball as my companion. "Don't do what your other pals did, ok? It's bad," I scold the little metal ball. With a little jump, I dive into the rift, surrounding me with bright blue colors swirling around like a waterspout as the end of the warp becomes closer. In a few seconds, I can almost see the other side...

"Oops, I forgot something," swimming back up to the tent rift. I pop out to see the Syntex employee interviewing another contestant. Using my scythe as an extension, I stab it at the paper I believe to be mine as I get sucked back into the warp, with the table stuck on my scythe. I read the paper and smile when I see my name on it, falling fast into the portal with a table and a little orb companion.

Blee-da-bweep deet!

Blee-da-bweep deet!

Blee-da-bweep deet!

"Ah? Wuzzat? Anyone else hear that?" Straw Hat queried, gobbling remnants of scarcely-chewed meat down his elastic gullet. Extending a gloved digit, Bubble Man pointed at his daffy cohort's cardigan. Probing his crum-glittered garments, the rubber pirate brandished a mobile dataverse device. In that very instance, a legion of flatscreen monitors scattered about the bazaar flickered alight, a shadow-veiled unknown seated with his back to the camera.


"Oi, Luffy here! Who is it?" The young buccaneer declared after tapping the confirmation key blinking upon the console's central hub. There was ill reply from the opposing line aside from deafened atonal fuzz, soliciting Luffy to lightly bat the screen with his knuckle, assuming the apparatus defective. Moments thereafter, the partition sprung to life with a visual display mimicking that of all encircling telecasts.

* * * * * * *

"Are you a Prime? Enticed by survival games? Do you enjoy blood-soaked, carnage-laden, bomb-bustling island retreats? Come one, come all, but come only those blessed with a death wish. Think you wield what it takes to persevere against impossible odds? Do you? Are you irrefutably certain?"

"If the answer is yes, then I herald you into the critically acclaimed, no-holds-barred campaign of havoc and betrayal. Sounds too good to be true, right?! I assure you this is no hoax, nor a chummy competition to test your mettle."


"Recognize the name? If so, you've no doubt already made your decision one way or another, based upon panic-induced fear of failure or the avidity of moxie-fueled triumph! We've no tolerance for dastardly do-gooders or meek pantywaists who're soft around the edges. If the mere notion of termination makes you wet your nickers, stay your pansy ass home."


"Whatever your fancy, surely a victorious fate shall lavish you in whichever recompense you seek. Some participate for spoils, others for information only high level big-wigs can acquire, and then there're those whom simply crave the thrill of the hunt."

"Ask yourself, first and foremost, does what you desire warrant a life-risking gamble? I'm willing to bet it does! If you concur, search out any of our myriad registry tents located near you. I look forward to your attendance!"

* * * * * * *


In unison, the screens dimmed to black, no doubt marooning viewers trapped within a fuddled state of ambivalence, spattered by unstifled quandaries. "The flashy hell was that?!" Buggy sprung the question vexing everyone in proximity, throwing both hands out to emphasize his duress. "That cheeky bastard really expects a turnout from some shady broadcast? You'd have to be a total idiot to partic–"

"YOSHHH!! LET'S GO THERE!!" Luffy thunderously interjected, frantically scanning the area for an aforementioned enrollment booth. Spotting a distinctively haughty marquee, he prepped to jet forth toward the prospecting attendant, however the rubber pirate's imbecilic elation was quelled by a hearty bonk to the head.

"Can it, rubber brain! Your idiocy is boundless, I swear! We know next to nothing of this flashy event and ya' just want to storm into some fishy island like moths to a flame?! We got other engagements to consider!" An irate Red Nose comically scolded with repeated, albeit ineffectual conks to the captain's dome. Though his tirade was hampered by an embracing palm to the shoulder.

"It's futile, you know better than any other when he's made up his mind it's impossible to talk him out of it, sensibly or otherwise," Bubble Man counseled, sighing deeply. His swashbuckling time with the group thus far had proven fruitful; the aquabot surmised it better to just go with the flow, wherever the tide may wash them.

"B-but Luffy, the festival! We vowed to compete as a team did we not? Surely you don't want to abandon everything we've accomplished? And in case you forgot, Emboar would never just let us 'up and at 'em' to some far-off land . . ." Lopunny petitioned in blighted hopes of Straw Hat thinking rationally, clasping both mitts at her chest to pantomime prayer.

"Loplop is right, Lulu! Let's all calm down and pretend we never even saw that message, 'kay?" Flabébé appended the crew's incessant pleading, perched upon the youth's cherished headwear. Even the socially reticent Kilaka poked her noggin' out from Buggy's cap to snarl in protest.

"You guys . . . you heard what the mystery man said, right?" Luffy urged to quash the onslaught of gripe n' grouse. "Information. We can all, just maybe, find answers. What is this loopy world? Why the heck were we all brought here? Most importantly, what the frick happened to my damn crew?!" Straw Hat reproached with inquisition, sharpening both eyes with liberal resolve that pierced his comrades' hearts.

Caressing his chin, Slowking hypothesized an expansive moment while the others squabbled amongst themselves. Arriving at infallible credence, the royal advisor stepped forward, jolting the crew at attention. "Enough bellyaching, you louts. Rubberneck poses a point of reason, for once, that mustn't be cast to the wayside. Even considering my copious knowledge, I've yet to stumble upon merited affirmation regarding this wondrous macrocosm. A sparse occasion such as this may provide significant cognizance."

"Kahaha, see? I've got this! Everyone else stay here and continue without me, I'll come back in time to finish the competition, and then we'll see where the wind takes us!" Straw Hat ordained, stroking a saddened Flabébé on the chin as solace. While hesitant, the gang couldn't help but agree with Slowking's consultation, unanimously conceding with a reluctant nod.

"Splendid, it is settled. Be warned, Luffy, as this event will surely attract miscreants of the most dangerous kind. If you harbor any hopes of survival, come closer," The shell-crowned Pokemon gestured with an inviting wave. Ever curios, Straw Hat complied, trekking over to close the distance as Slowking stepped behind the rubber pirate and swiftly struck him at the rear of his neck with a shimmering paw.


"Oi! What was that helmet head?! Don't just . . . Wha? I . . . feel fuzzy . . . You, what'd you do?" Suddenly Luffy's visage flushed with a spectrum of saturated energy, thickening the surrounding air as luminous omnilium gushed through his bulging veins before ultimately subsiding.

Clearing his throat, the pink psionic offered a lengthy exposé, "By eroding the sealed 'cork' of your neural network via psionic stimulation, I've awakened a lattice of abilities held dormant by untapped Omnilium. I believe you referred to it earlier as "Haki." You should now possess the efficacy to . . . invoke . . . awwwnnn . . ."


"Wake up bafoon!" Buggy comically swatted the crowned narcoleptic across the back of his conch, whom alarmingly snapped back from a brief slumber and purged an audible fart in shock. ". . . You filthy bastard."

Sated by mutual agreement and galvanized spirit, Luffy shuffled over to the gaudy sign-up tent after parting from the group with pleasant graces. This would make for the second instance in a matter of days that the pirate captain brashly enlisted in a random, potentially perilous endeavor.

Peering around the corner of a scantily-lit corridor, Zoroark scouted from the shadows. Acting out espionage in secrecy, he loosed a menacing snarl sprinkled with zeal.

Kekekeke, a fortuitous opportunity has presented itself. Fortunate for me, unlucky for you, little homo-sapien, the lupine pokemon chuckled with bated breath as he gazed into an extravagant bottle housing eerily clouded, ebony fluid. Tearing away the restrictive layers of your mind was a bonehead move on that shithead advisor's part, but I'll be sure to thank him for it later.

Flicking away the cap with a clawed finger, Zoroark tilted it bottom-side-up, allowing the murky ooze to spill out upon the ground, congregating into a pool of bizarre goop as black as diablo's feces. Unbeknownst to Straw Hat, it slimily crept over near the youth's planted sandals and snaked up his rubbery legs.

There, I've done as requested sir Delphox. Finding a suitable candidate for the leeching fragment of Darkrai's essence to possess is a confirmed success. Kekeke, now we wait . . .

"Well hello there, young man!" A perky female welcomed with balmy pitch, wielding a clipboard in front of her globular bust. "First thing's first. By signing these documents, you rescind the company from any and all harm that may, and by the looks of it, will befall you during proceeding events. I just need your name and a few personal details about yourself! Teehee!" Handing off a thicket of papers, the bootylicious pencil-pusher dawdled quietly with bogus hospitality. Shrugging apathetically, Luffy scribbled down what he assumed to make sense.

After dotting his last line, the woman escorted him into the ritzy tent, beyond which hovered a radiant eddy of dazzling light held afloat by an encompassing golden frame. Taking one last moment to turn and wave farewell to his nakama, Luffy leapt through, unfazed by the mystery of what may await him on the other side . . .

IC Form
Quote:Appearance – Uhmmm, just look at me I guess?

Personality – Kishishi, you be the judge of that!

Possible Reactions – Touch my lunch or my crew and get Gomu Gomu Pistol-whipped!

Relationships – My pirate crew, both ones and new! They're my nakama, my family!

'Combat' Style – Just beat the bad guys up! Then steal their gold!

Eligible Powers – Devil Fruit, Gear Second and Haki. My two years of training sure paid off!

Moves – Stretchy Attacks!

Extra – Extra meat? Please!


"GOMU GOMU NO . . . !!"

OOC Form
[Image: RP1zIRg.jpg]
Luffy has donned a slightly altered outfit specifically for Dante's Abyss. His red cardigan has lost its wavy base, gaining tattered sleeves and an upright collar, draped over by a thin yellow vest. His previously yellow sash is now burgundy and his shorts now black.

Darkrai Possessed Luffy
[Image: jeRkxCl.jpg]
While under the influence of Darkrai's full possession, Luffy's sclera become wholly blackened with dotted yellow pupils and his skin fades to an ashy gray.

Personality – Luffy's personality is akin to a child's in the sense that he tends to go to extremes. He can either be incredibly greedy, especially in cases of food, or extraordinarily selfless, going so far as to sacrifice himself to avenge or protect his friends. While goofy and reckless, he grows quite serious when anyone is in danger, notably his crew. Luffy also has the tendency to unwittingly poke fun at an opponent's most sensitive trait, giving them a nickname to further emphasize their oddity or defects.

When Darkrai's essence takes over, Luffy acquires sinister traits such as finding pleasure in dolling out pain and provoking the enemy. He will not hesitate to fight dirty and becomes a proverbial sociopath.

Possible Reactions – Luffy decided to participate in hopes of gaining knowledge about his former crew. He is friendly to a fault, but will only ally with those he deems worthy, he's a pirate after all. If you harm him or his allies, he's going to make you hurt. If you intentionally get in his way, he's going to bulldoze through you. If you do something genuine and kind for him, friend for life.

Relationships – None currently participating, but likely to change.

'Combat' Style – Though quite the bruiser, Luffy only fights when he wants to. He rarely attacks first unless he's already aware of the enemy's misdeeds or detrimental plots, and boy is he persistent. Surprisingly, Luffy is a tactical mastermind and can quickly devise a strategy based around the enemy's primary weakness.

While Darkrai is possessing him at any point, he becomes ruthless and will attack on sight, but very strategically as opposed to his typical head-on style.

Eligible Powers
• Elasticity
• Basic Super Jumping
• Burst Movement
• Foresight

(Descriptions Here!)
• Gomu Gomu Rocket
• Gomu Gomu Fūsen

Super Moves
• Gomu Gomu Bazooka (Tier 0)
• Gomu Gomu Storm (Tier 1)
• Gomu Gomu Red Hawk (Tier 1)

Powered-Up Forms
• Gear Second (Tier 1)
• Armament Haki: Hardening (Tier 1)
• Nightmare Luffy (Tier 1)

Extra – Luffy cherishes his Straw Hat. If anybody attempts to touch, damage, or steal it, they're dead meat. Mmm, meat!

• "I'm going to be King of the Pirates!"
• "Yosh!" (Exclamation of excitement)
• "Being alone is more painful than getting hurt."
• "You want to keep everyone from dying? That's naive. It's war. People die."
• "It's not like 'thanks' are something I can eat."
• "I am going to save you even if it kills me."
[Image: giphy.gif]

Desco passed through the gate in Coruscant to the Nexus where Desco could immediately see a booth for Dante's Abyss. DesX appeared next to her as well. "Ohhh, DesX! Are you coming with Desco to Dante's Abyss?" "It is a competition for Primes so I cannot join you Desco. But I thought I'd tag along and take a in person look at who was participating in the competition, Daddy wants to know." "Okay! Desco is going to sign up now."

The pair, who looked like virtual twins with different colors, walked up to the line and casually looked around as they slowly waited in line. The line slowly moved along but it was fairly short now, Dante's Abyss would be starting soon and most people that were signed up were already inside. Cameras filmed the crowd and a mobile camera crew was walking the line. They stopped a couple times up ahead and when they got to Desco and DesX, the female reporter took one up and down look at them and motioned to the camera guy to get ready and shoot them. "Hello there, I'm Janna with action 4 news, everyone's favorite news service in the Empire! May I ask you ladies who you are and are you here to sign up for DA?" Desco hesitated for a moment, embarrassed at suddenly being put on camera. "I... I'm Desco! Desco is here to win! Daddy wants Desco to compete in this competition." "I am DesX, I just came here to watch." The news reporter smiled at the pair of demon girls. "I hope you do well in there!"

As the news reporter cut the interview and moved on down the line, DesX spotted a mobile vendor nearby. "I'll be right back Desco" She walked over and handed the vendor some money and brought back to Desco a can of Pepsi and one for herself. Soon enough they were standing in front of the registration booth. "Okay, please show that you are a Prime by using Omnilium." "I'm not signing up, just Desco here."Desco pulled out a little Omnilium and turned it into a candy bar. "Good. Now fill out this form and sign the waiver." Desco filled out the paperwork as best she could, though she didn't have a home address or contact information. "Now you can go through the gate and wait there. We'll let you know if you are chosen to be a competitor. Next." Desco's Tail stretched out and touched the ground, then she jumped back onto it and flung her hands above her head. "Yay! Desco is in! Come on DesX, let's see what is inside the gate!"

Quote:Appearance – My Avatar

Personality – Desco is a young, playful, and curious little demon girl who usually finds her attention and interests wandering when she isn't focused on a particular goal. What really focuses her is her love for her big sister Fuka, a function built right into her thought programming as the basis for her entire thought process. Designed for it, Desco knows that daddy created her in an effort to help Fuka take over the world so taught her that the path to get there was to become a Final Boss. Because of this, Desco attempts to emulate the aspects of a final boss in all things, however Desco is also made to be a little sister to Fuka so retains her innocence and naivety defaulting to a good girl when she doesn't feel the need to fulfill her demonic nature.

Desco generally speaks in third person when not using her 'final boss voice' and tends towards cowardice when big scary things show up despite herself hiding behind her big sister if she can even as she says she'll defend her. What actually scares her varies on the situation but big creepy things, others showing bloodlust and ripping people to bloody bits, and huge powerful monsters can all get her shaking until she works up the courage to show that she is a final boss.

She is very trusting of others and often takes things at face value, though she isn't stupid. In large part to Valvatorez as her mentor, Desco will try to keep promises that she has made unless it pushed her into a decision to violate her Final Boss ideals. Desco will also form strong attachments to her friends and will do almost anything to help a friend in need.

Possible Reactions – Desco is curious about everything. She generally defaults to a good little girl in normal situations, but when she goes into combat she is an excitable and happy combatant who will kill without hesitation. She is against Heros and Heroic things and when she is faced with a decision to do something she thinks is Heroic she'll only do it for her friends as it isn't 'Final Boss-like'. While she will do anything to prove that she is a Final Boss. Desco would also show her cowardice against anyone scary (though they have to be trying to be scary, as she is used to demonic appearances but they need to have a Demonic, Scary presence) but at the same time if they go over the top she might turn into a fan of them being a magnificent Final Boss like she wants to be.

Relationships – Desco and Guu are friends. Enemies of Guu beware!

‘Combat’ Style – Desco will be cowardly against particularly scary, or creepy, opponents but once she has started fighting she'll go all out. Desco moves slowly but she prefers melee combat and will fling her powers out at enemies that she isn't close to. She will also defend to the death her friends and will sacrifice herself to save friends.

Eligible Powers –Malleability (NOTE Desco only exhibits this power through her Tail and Yogsothoth, she does not stretch her normal body.)

Moves – Roster Move List Link
Bodypart Yogsothoth (600) - Levitate (300) - Instinct (300) (Also Upgraded to T0 Super Move, but has utility usage outside that and its a summonable/dismissable extension of her body)
Yogsothothian Tail Natural Weapon
A Final Boss Arises Offensive T1 Super Move
Sphere Defense Defensive T1 Super Move
Battle Aura T1 Transformation

Extra – Desco always speaks in third person when not using her Final Boss voice. She only uses her Final Boss voice when she thinks she is about to fight heroes or otherwise needs to show off that she is a Final Boss.

Quotes – "Desco Attacks!"
"Complete Annihilation!"
"Desco is a Final Boss!"
"Only a Hero can beat a Final Boss!"

Victor Wolfe waited for his turn in the spotlight, there were many strong contestants here, and Victor did not want to be killed before the contest had even begun. As he waited he noticed moving posters, he assumed it was some type of magic, making the pictures move. What a great idea, a good new way to transfer information. The moving posters were asking rhetorical questions designed to entice would be combatants into joining. This was something Wolfe was all too familiar with, his homeland and the empire that destroyed it both used this line of thinking when trying to bolter their armies before a big campaign. Questions like, do you want to become a knight ?, or do you want to be the saviour of the land ?, Then join the army. These pieces of propaganda where spreading a message that Victor himself could get behind,

"Do you want to take part in glorious combat in a survival game so brutal it makes a crusade feel like a light workout? Do you want to become well known throughout the land as an amazing survivor and fighter? Do you want to gain a powerful reward just for spilling the blood of others ? Then Join Dantes Abyss and get to the killing!" What he at first thought was simply a moving poster announced, not knowing that what he would later be informed was a television, could not speak back he said " Yes, yes, yes and I intend to do just that my bloodthirsty friend."

Finally it was time for Victor to enter the tent, there was an interviewer with a strange device that he had never seen before. he decided to ask about it, " Hello sir may I ask what that strange contraption you are pointing at me is? I would not like for me to mistake it as some sort of weapon, and thus spill your guts over the floor, in self defence of course" Victor Wolfe said with a grin. The interviewer responded " It is a camera, it will broadcast this interview and send it out to all of the fans watching, a good way for our viewers to get to know the competitors before they set foot on the island, it helps the gamblers out too as they can get a glimpse of the strength of each competitor."

Victor was amazed at this new technology, how far behind was his world? Perhaps after this tournament Victor would need to get more acquainted with this new tech perhaps even find out if he could use it as a weapon. The interviewer clearly not wanting to hold up the line proceed with the questions " What is your name" Victor Wolfe responded happily looking at the camera " my name is Victor Wolfe trained assassin, bodyguard and gentleman, of what I now i now imagine is probably a smoldering wasteland due to rebellions, but now I fill my time with exploring, discussing philosophy and theology, and trying to murderer over zealous giants with superiority complexes. That last one is a pretty recent hobby though." The interviewer jotted down some notes onto a clipboard. The voice in Victor's head spoke out " Do you think this is a psyche evaluation ?" Victor thought back " Oh no, the only kind of test I tend to fail, i always answer blood and gore rather than sunshine and rainbows, I really hate that question!" Victors inner voice sarcastically remarked " The, what are your favorite things to watch and enjoy one?" Victor thought " Yes that one, it beats me every time".

The interviewer continued with the next question " What can you bring to this tournament.? any special skills, interesting personality traits, or abilities that would interest an audience" She asked.

" That is a very good question, you see I enjoy what I do, my work is my life, and I tend to find that people enjoy watching others enjoy themselves, and what I enjoy doing is killing strong opponents, or people who get in my way, so what I want to do and this tournament's end goal coincide, pragmatism at its best, I also enjoy conversing with people and sharing new ideas, thus I feel I can create interesting conversations for the audience to watch, when I an not tearing apart my opponents. I am proficient in survival often having to do long missions in enemy territory with very little to sustain me, and I am trained in had to hand combat and most forms of melee weaponry. may I ask, are there any restrictions on weaponry?" The interviewer responded with " Yes, you will not be able to bring those daggers with you,and some abilities will be restricted"

Victor Wolfe thought about this and enchanted a small incantation he learned whilst training, the dagger disappeared into thin air, the incantation was a way of storing his daggers without having them vulnerable to being stolen, a real problem with such well crafted weapons.

"Well looks like it is time for me to show of my physical skills, don't worry about the bandages, at this point they are merely for an aesthetic purpose" Victor turned to what appeared to be an automaton a living statue made of metal and brought to life my magic, although he suspected it was just another example of how far this universe was ahead of his own. " why don't we have that try and hit me first, I tend to find that is the best way to show my particular skill set" The interviewer nodded setting up the training robot, it lunged for Wolfe a bit faster than Okor had but still way to slow , Wolfe kept calm , staying out of the way of its punches whilst speaking, " you see , I may not be physically the strongest" Victor dodged a low sweep to his legs by using his increased jumping ability to leapfrog over the robot, " But what I am, is very fast, I dont need great heavy armour as I don't tend to get hit" As Wolfe said this an arm came at him trying to knock him away, he used it as a platform thanks to his mastering of acrobatics, allowing him to flip onto the machines shoulder, there he spotted a small wire leading to its left arm. " But speed is not my only trick, I am also a very capable technical fighter and thus I notice things, like this little thing, i wonder what it does " Victor pulled the wire causing the robot left arm to fall apart into rubble " Just like that, although there tends to be more blood on an actual opponent, looks like it is time for this automaton to say good night." With that Victor jumped off from the machines back, and rushed forward with a burst of movement reaching between the hard plating into the chest area, Victor had spotted what almost looked like a heart, he very quickly but carefully grasped onto it and squeezed, causing the machine to fall apart around his arm. " Next time maybe don't make it have easy to exploit weak points" Victor smiled " I take it that will be all?" The interviewer handed Wolfe a form and a pen, " fill that in and join that line, welcome to the Dante Verse" Victor walked towards the next cue and started to fill in the form.

Quote:Appearance – [Image: Haru.Shikazumi.240.1022186.jpg]

Personality – Polite but deadly, Victor will alway keep good manners and pleasantries but once he starts to disagree and argue he can very quickly turn violent , however if he feels he owes something to someone he will stick by them until the debt is paid. He was raised as a gentleman but behind that facade is murderous intent and unlimited ambition.

Possible Reactions – Victor Wolfe would kill anyone he sees as a threat but is diplomacy is not a foreign concept to him as long as others do not interfere with his own plans he will work as part of a team, until it threatens his own survival , He does not believe that he will win the tournament but does not plan to be the first to die, he wants to use it as a way of learning about new people in the land and testing out his own skill.
Relationships – Victor and Okor fought almost as soon as they appeared in the world and the fight ended with Okor winning something Wolfe may want revenge for. He also views Carn as a potential ally as he helped to mend Wolfe's wounds after the fight with Okor.He also feels that he owes Carn a favour and thus would not attempt to kill or harm him.

‘Combat’ Style – Victor Wolfe will sit at mid range until he figures out weapon reach and then will close the distance, he uses his technical ability to spot weak points and then his speed to hit them and get away before his opponent can react, a cautious but tactical fighting style, when he has an ally he will watch their back unless it would lead to his own death.

Eligible Powers –Burst Movement, Super Jumping, Master Acrobat, Suppression.

Moves – nominating Twin Daggers ,Heaven and Hell as a level zero offensive special move, as Victor could summon them temporarily. <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=30&t=2348#p19994">viewtopic.php?f=30&t=2348#p19994</a><!-- l -->

Quotes – " time to say good bye, it was a pleasure killing you"
"saying all I do is kill is like saying all omni does is some landscaping, I make art!"
" Too slow "
[Image: LMLzBQ4.gif][Image: psgGbSy.png]                                                                                                                                [Image: 2lvxt0w.gif]

Tartaros stares back towards Carn, surprised at the... odd comments that their apparent allies had made before departing, "Well then... I suppose we should meet again on the other side, aye?", before heading out towards the recruitment tent.

The marine trudged through the crowd of participants, an odd mix, beings off all sorts from plate-clad warriors to unknown xenos, before finally being called into a large brown leather tent. It was rather plain, with a singular desk and two seats across its entirety, inside was a man, of the aging sort, dressed in a suit and hunched over in one of the chairs, holding a clipboard. Muttering something as Tartaros entered, he pointed to the second seat, some kind of simple stone-like stool. The marine sat cautiously on the reinforced seat, resting his arms on his lap.

"Wot's yer name?", the man grumbled in a disinterested tone.

"Tartaros Castus."

"Bloody odd name that is...", the man replied. "Anyways, what are ya here for, an' what qualifies ya fer this 'ere competition?"

"Hrm? Ah... the omnilium, of course, also glory, honour, blah blah you know the rest... As for what qualifies me, I like to consider myself an... experienced fighter."

The man, who at this point had had his face buried in his clipboard, looked up at the marine. "Oh... right then, yer one a' those types. Tell you what lad, you're in. Take a step outside."

Tartaros followed the man out through an entrance, into a small room with a camera placed in the middle. The man pointed towards a spot in front of the camera.

"Over there."

While the marine trundled over towards the spot, the man fiddled with the camera desperately grumbling.

"Bloody thing..."

Finally, the man shoved something into place and the camera clicked, printing out a small photograph, which the man proceeded to scribble something on with a pen.

"There we go...", the man pointed towards a large dark door, "Right through there, that's where you need ta go."

The marine stepped through, into the tournament.


[Image: latest?cb=20121012183008]

Tartaros is rather large and as bulky as any other Astartes, standing a few inches shy of eight feet tall when armoured. His body is covered throughout with scars and other marks, as well as specks of dirt and muck. His hair and unkempt facial hair are rather thick, if very short, and obviously graying.

His powered armour is rather obviously scavenged, though it still bears the traditional Luna Wolves scheme of dark grey and red, the materials bear the mark of various slapdash replacements and high levels of damage along all parts of it, some areas of the arms, pauldrons and torso are even torn open or missing altogether. The helmet in particular is a mark 4 "Maximus" pattern, though the normally recognizable respirator is almost impossible to notice under the plethora of bullet holes and slashes, even the left eyepiece seems to be utterly broken.


Tartaros is, slightly uncharacteristically for his notoriously headstrong legion-of-origin, rather level-headed and calm most of the time, though in combat this tends to be a whole other story. Though still a somewhat loyal devotee of what he perceives to be his leader, the Emperor of Mankind, Tartaros' faded memory often fails him on what exactly the Emperor stood for.

Possible Reactions

Tartaros is calm a majority of the time, though if injured or provoked, will oftentimes fly into a short fit of anger, hacking through with anything possible.

The marine is adept at survival, often even preferring to hunt over taking processed foods, and if trapped outdoors will attempt to make some kind of shelter and fire.

Tartaros is also rather loyal to his allies, almost never betraying them unless they turn on him first (though, what constitutes "turning" is of course subjective), or if utterly necessary.


Tartaros is still very new to the Omniverse, only really knowing Carn, Okor Paleblood and Galel Baraz, and would likely be able to recognize Victor Wolfe. He is not too trusting of any of them, Baraz in particular, though not planning against them either.

‘Combat’ Style

Tartaros is a very seasoned fighter and survivalist, living from place to place for millennia. He reacts rather well to combat and typically remains calm, if aggressive. He prefers to fight within close-to-mid range, but is competent in most types of combat from sniping to, to trapping, to melee.

Eligible Powers

Survival (2000 OM)


None eligible.

Chainsword /w Exterminator Cartridge (600 OM, requires Physical Proficiency and Ranged Proficiency)
A somewhat poorly maintained weapon, its scavenged nature is apparent. Along one of its two sides is an affixed set of intimidating, sharp and bone-like teeth, ready to begin tearing foes at the push of a trigger. Attached to the blades basket guard is a small Exterminator Cartridge, a flamer-like device ready to spit forth a torrent of flame with a single motion by the wielder. The cartridge is heavily limited, with a very short range and inability to store more than a shots worth of promethium at a time.

Tigrus-Pattern Bolter (300 OM, requires Ranged Proficiency)
An old semi-automatic rifle design of Tartaros' universe, firing roughly 2 rounds each second, utilized to effectively penetrate armour and blow through tough targets, in the right hands it can be very intimidating indeed. Somewhat heavy and very sturdy, its recoil is considerable, though ultimately manageable by most strong humans. Tartaros, accustomed to assaults, tends to fire ranged weapons while moving, at least in close-quarters, ultimately sacrificing a level of accuracy while keeping mobility. Due to this weapon's ancient nature and numerous, almost schizophrenic ways it has been repaired over the years, it has a tendency to jam often in the absence of frequent maintenance.


Nothing, really.


"I'm no son of that... bloody monstrosity."
"Just like old times."

After one final tweet, the tribesman tucked the phone under his kimono belt and returned his attention forward. The line to register into Dante’s Abyss was an abyss all itself, with countless heads swaying in front of him like a row of different colored Trufalla treetops. From his position, the registration tent appeared as a mere spec in an otherwise pure hinterland of whiteness, void of anything other than the countless people that roamed around the line.

But it was worth the wait.

Memories of his last experience in Dante’s Abyss projected in his mind more vividly than bold red letters, taunting him like a negative reputation he just couldn’t shake off. Most viewers of that ‘Abyss’ considered him an underdog, but his display of skill refuted those beliefs, and helped carry him all the way to the finale; it ended with a nail driven into the back of his cranium, courtesy of the same blonde that ended the competition hoisting the title of champion.

Which brought Aero to the line he stood in now: revenge—the opportunity to right a past wrong. He thought it would be sweet irony if he could end the woman’s life in the same fashion she ended his; but any means of death by his hands would suffice . . . as long as her death was by his hands.

Thoughts of revenge overwhelmed the tribesman so much he never even took a moment to gaze at the tight buns, belonging to the brown-haired woman ahead of him in line. A normal acting Aero would have scaled her up and down, from her slender waist and wide hips to her overall lack of height.

The line gradually progressed forward, but the supposedly forthcoming tent remained just as distant. If not against better judgment, Aero would have sworn that some of the roaming people were skipping forward in line, latching onto the loyalty of their comrades and jumping ahead of them.

“Ice cold refreshments!” a voice loudly proclaimed from the tribesman’s right. As Aero’s eyes navigated through the bystanders he determined the words originated from a fifty-something year old vendor man, dressed in a collared shirt/navy-blue slacks uniform, towing a wheeled cooler—PespiCo. was scripted on the side, in thick blue letters across its white surface. “Ice cold refreshments here!”

“Yo!” Aero hollered, throwing a hand up. “Right here.” He remembered the man twittering him—Pepsi-man?—about some Pepsi shit; he figured he would give it a try.

The wheels to the vendor’s cooler squeaked along as man scuttled over to the tribesman “Need a cold beverage?” he inquired, parking next to his potential customer. Sweat trickled down his temples from under the logoed newsboy cap he wore, and glossed his salt n’ pepper muttonchops before dripping off his jaw and onto the pinstripe button-down shirt he wore; thankfully, the vendor remembered his Speed-Stick this morning.

Aero looked down at the man with mildly interested eyes. “What ya got?” he asked as he folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head.

“Only the best—Pepsi products,” the vendor replied in a jubilant tone. He must have been one of those rare individuals that truly enjoyed their jobs, or he was really skilled at displaying the façade.

“Sure. What’re my options?” Why not try something new? If its taste lived up to the ‘Pepsi-man’s’ efforts of promoting it, then the tribesman wagered it worth trying.

A large grin spread below the vendors snout as he bent over, unclamped the cooler, and flipped the top open. “I have Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Mountain Dew, Diet Mountain Dew, Aquafina, and Lipton lemon ice tea.”

“Gimme the Pepsi,” Aero replied. “I wanna know what all the fuss is about.”

The vendor sank his hand into the cooler’s bath of ice and retrieved a dripping blue can of Pepsi. “Here you go, sir!” he replied, extending the can to Aero. “On the house!”

“Cool. I’ve been in this goddamn line forever.” He took the wet can from the vendor’s hand and located the tab at the top. With a snap!, he forced the tab into the perforated aluminum adjacent to it., and before the first crackle of liquid could jump out of the can, he took a conservative gulp. The taste was sweet, yet controlled. “Damn,” he said, rearing his head away from the can. “This is some pretty good shit.” He brought the can back to his lips and chugged the rest.

The man responded with a fragile smile. His mouth eased open as if to speak, but halted when the tribesman handed the can back to him, crushed into a bent mess of itself.

Perhaps Aero was thirsty, after all—as soon as he finished the beverage an idea sparked in his head. He was embarrassed the thought hadn’t arrived sooner. He could just teleport to the front of the line!

The tribesman raised took the index and middle fingers of his right hand and pulled them up to his forehead. “See ya, vendor dude. Thanks for the drink.” In an instant, Aero’s body disappeared. The vendor’s eyes popped as the gap in the line slowly filled with the person who stood behind Aero.

* * * * *

“Hello, welcome to Dante’s Abyss!” A pizza-faced, young man said as his eyes descended down the honeycomb shelves to his left until he found one of the last available clipboards, and grabbed it, placing it on the desk that separated him from the next person in line. “Please fill out this short form, then you can stare into the camera behind my right shoulder and showcase your sk—“

“Hi,” Aero said, with a growing smile.

Jerry looked up at the tall, slender man opposite of him. Before pulling his attention away to retrieve another clipboard, he remembered the next person in line being a chubby man with thinning hair. “What happened to the guy in front of you?”

“Said something about going to the bathroom. Might as well get me out the way though, while I’m here.”

Jerry doubted the words the tall man spoke, but Syntex’s wages were low and there was no health insurance, so he minded his own damn business. “Ok,” he replied.

* * * * *

Fuck yes, DA here I come.
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

Delsin continued to walk across the Nexus, bored beyond belief at this point. He'd been walking for at least twenty whole minutes now, and it was getting frustrating that this was leading him to almost nowhere.

It was then an idea popped in Delsin's head to get out his smartphone, to see if it worked or not. Turning it on, Delsin realized he had no connection whatsoever. Delsin looked around, surprised that he didn't expect that to happen. Delsin looked at his phone, and the unfilled bars signaling he had no internet service, before he instinctively got the interest to try this Omnilium given to him to change this.

How this would even work, Delsin didn't know. Delsin didn't even know why he thought of this in the first place, but he figured it would be worth a shot to try. He held his still working phone into the air, closing his eyes, before channeling a small amount of Omnilium to his palms. The concept of this Omnilium got to Delsin surprisingly quickly, although that might have been his previous experience with superpowers beforehand.

Delsin looked at the phone he had above him, and the strange energy flowing from his hands and into the smartphone. Every ten seconds, Delsin could see the bars filling up one by one, until he had a full 5 bars connected to...whatever he was connected to. Delsin tapped back, checking his wi-fi connections. There was only one signal, to which he was connected to. It simply read "The Dataverse".

"Nice," Delsin smiled, speaking to himself, "Hopefully this'll help..."

Delsin continued to walk, looking at his phone, knowing he didn't need to pay attention to wherever he was walking at this point. Popping open his internet browser, it automatically opened up one URL, which titled "Dataverse Messageboards". Delsin guessed that this Dataverse thing was quite popular wherever this was.

Reading through some posts, Delsin kept seeing ads scattered throughout the pages about this "Dante's Abyss." He paid no mind to it, simply dismissing it to read whatever these other people were writing up. Before Delsin could read anything, however, he heard a voice in the distance, seeming to call out to him.

Delsin blinked, lowering his phone to look at whoever was yelling so loudly. It definitely echoed, considering he was walking in a white void with no sound to bounce off of, making it easy to find the source of the sound itself. Delsin squinted, and saw somebody in the distance waving in front of a tent, and inside, Delsin could see a strange light coming out of the tent itself.

As Delsin began to walk towards the tent for examination, he saw the figure waving towards him to be a woman in somewhat formal attire. Delsin couldn't help but raise his eyebrow at the strangeness of the situation at hand. Not as if it mattered now, Delsin figured he'd be up for anything with all that's happened just moments ago with Omni. When the woman got into earshot of Delsin, she yelled out to him.

"Hey, you! You must be a new Prime, fresh outta the water, too!" The lady continued to wave at Delsin as she spoke, Delsin still a bit confused at the whole thing, especially the "Prime" part of it. Delsin opened his mouth to speak, before being interrupted by the woman continuing with her showy introduction.

"Would you like to sign up for Dante's Abyss, sir?" Upon asking Delsin this, he immediately went wide-eyed for a single second, remembering the advertisements on his phone. Shaking his head, Delsin smiled as widely as he could.

"Well, I mean... Sure! I'll be up for anything in this... Uh... Omniverse, yeah, Omniverse, that'll get me around places!" Delsin turned around upon finishing his claim of consent, wincing at how awkward that was.

"If that's the case, then get in here, or else you'll be late, come on!" The woman spoke, emphasizing the 'come on' by pulling on Delsin's jacket, right into the tent. Delsin barely cared at how comical the situation seemed, more worried about how he just accepted to jump into something named "Dante's Abyss" of all places he could have gone.

"Yep... This is gonna be fun..." Delsin mumbled, before signing up for whatever this Abyss had in store for him.


[Image: f349ad876e.jpg]


'Delsin is a well-mannered young adult, although still quite the troublemaker. Although generally good-willed, Delsin sometimes doubts himself and his choices, letting his anger and generally rebellious attitude consume him sometimes, but never really letting it push him to the edge. Normally, Delsin acts cool, calm and collected, with lots of sarcasm put into the mix, very evident with the conversations he has with his peers.'

Possible Reactions

Delsin's curiosity and his need to explore leads him to the Dante's Abyss to learn more about the Omniverse and how it works. Delsin also favors the idea of getting his old powers back and gaining new ones. If anyone were to team up with him, Delsin would eagerly accept. Betrayal of his allies would be the last thing he'd want to do, although if he had to, Delsin would clearly state it would have been nothing personal in the slightest.


None at the moment, being fresh out of the Fountain of Infinity.

‘Combat’ Style

Delsin would generally go around exploring, waiting for somebody to strike at him first. If somebody told him that they'd have to fight, then Delsin would keep it as fair as possible, making sure it would be even, not wanting to win with anything lower than those standards.

Eligible Powers

N/A at the moment.


N/A at the moment.




"You are not in control."

"Yeah, this is Delsin. Rowe. Do your worst."

"I'm gonna be different, Okay? I'm not there doing what they do, I'm there to save lives, I'm gonna be like Superman!"

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