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Day Two

The glass gave way as I dove for safety. I hit the ground and inadvertently started to tumble down into a ditch. My broken arm smacked against the moist ground as I came to a stop at the bottom of the valley. Not wanting to draw attention to myself from the mob in the diner I bit my tongue and stifled a scream of pain. Slowly I managed to crawl to my knees. My back was in agonizing pain and I reached back to try and find the wound. A large metal nail was plugged deep into my lower back. With a deep breath I ripped the nail from my flesh and through it to the side.

“Fuck. FUCK he shot me with a fucking nail!? Are you kidding me? I’ll make a fucking soup out of that goddamned turtle and use his shell as a bowl!” I raged and punched the soft ground with my good arm. It took every scrap of self control to not charge back into the diner and paint its walls red. All you ever do is make enemies, you won’t get very far being that abrasive. Valerie’s advice seemed to taunt me in a dark hour. Under my breath I cursed him and stood up.

The worst of the storm seemed to have past, but that didn’t mean the rain wasn’t still vicious. Traveling would be arduous, but I certainly couldn’t stay out here for them to find me. With a deep rage still boiling in my chest I turned my back on the diner and began to hike. With no map and only a rough idea of my location it would be damn near impossible to find any of those care packages that Karl had so generously dropped on the island. Plus it seemed that most of the primes had huddled together into groups. Gilgamesh probably had a small boy band carrying him everywhere he went. Although, Crona was dead.

“Crona...” I muttered, thinking back to our meeting in New Babylon. The poor kid didn’t seem cut out for a death match like the abyss. But, if Crona was dead than that means maybe Gil and crew ran into some hardships. A slight feeling of schadenfreude overtook me and I grinned at the potential misfortune of the arrogant king. All I had to do was outlast him and I would be happy at this point. It was a game of survival and there was no way I would lose to that arrogant bastard.

Fuck alliances I thought to spite Valerie I’m not here to make friends. Mara had been the only person I had ever thought of as a companion. We were on the same level, we both had the same goal and we were both very very angry. And you even betrayed her I winced as the unwanted thought crept into my mind. Now was not the time to think of the past, but yet I couldn’t shake the thought of Mara being excommunicated and slashed across the throat.

My mind went blank as I tried to push everything away. All that mattered was putting one step in front of the other and surviving this rainstorm. All I needed to do was to move forward like I always did. For a while I walked like that, mind blank only focused on the next step. The rain served well as white noise and let me clear my head and focus on the competition. Eventually I came to a road and decided to follow it. My boots were caked with mud and muck and I left a trail of boot prints in the rain. Hopefully the oppressive downpour would clear away my tracks and offer me some cover.
[Image: StrazSig.png]

[Image: DarkshireBadge.png][Image: DarkshireDefenseBadge.png][Image: SecondarySaga.png][Image: HerosGraveyardBadge.png]

"Rise and shine, Survivors! It's been another six hours, and we had to say goodbye to two more primes...

#08 Crona
#28 Mami Tomoe

"Today we'll have only a couple of danger zones...


"We've bid farewell to a quarter of our original population... How many more of you will bid adieu before the noon sun rises?"

Quote:You may move 3 spaces for this phase (Please PM your movements, any new allies, and F2F queue-ups with the title 'Day 2 Morning.' This phase will last until tomorrow, May 31st at 8 or 8:30 PM CDT, depending on commute times.

Weather - The worst of the storm has passed, and all that is left is some light to heavy rain across all parts of the island. Flooding is still present.
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

Hello! Greetings to you all ladies, gentlemen, singularities, anomalies, gods, royalties, creatures of the dark and light and anything in between, this is Carn, your most irresistable anomaly. Before any of you bust a fuse trying to understand me or even try to wonder what I am doing, I deny any responsibility for whatever side-effects you experience after reading this wall of text. Side-effects may include one, some kind of combination or all of the following: Nausea( motion sickness and/or dizziness), massive Intellectual Quotient reduction( idiocy), severed synapse connections, multiple personality disorder, massive internal bleeding, breaking down of lipids, temporay loss of bladder and rectal controls, numbness, paralysis, hysterical laughter, mood swings and smiling.

If you accept, simply click the spoiler below and read everything you see downwards, the other option is to scroll down to the very bottom of this very long post which will most likely cause finger cramps and total discomfort in your supposedly enjoyable reading experience. Have a nice day.

"Thank you for accepting. Now suffer the same fate, only slower since you'll be reading it all instead of just skimming through. No rest for the wicked. " -Carn

It has been quite a while before my last storytelling. Any timestamp I make may have been made up in this made up world. Fictional in a fictional, flora-filled, fantasy world. Again, read it all. Enjoy.

_DA 2015 Day 1 Afternoon, 1538 hours

After going through a little bit of self-aid using aircraft metal parts to mend broken bones and fill in the lack of weapons, I, Carn have decided to look for a way to ease my mode of transportation. Traversing this landmass by foot is a pain, literally. I mean I have a bad leg. The metal support I wrapped on it doesn't help numb the pain, just makes it easier to move the leg and not the fractured bone itself. So, as I prance around so graciously( I tried to drag the dumb leg as gentle as possible), I eventually reach a tiny, seriously tiny, wooden shack that seems too small to house a person in for days. It's more like a toolshed of sort. A toolshed that has been covered in what seems to be weeds and vines, green and thick ones at that.

Pulling off as much as I can and chomping off the rest with my jagged set of teeth, I open the door, revealing what seems to be a toolbox. Said toolbox is grey and heavy, looks like a case too so, a toolcase. Checking inside, my eyes reveal a set of wrenches and screwdrivers, some sandpaper and boltcutter as well as a shiny multi-tool. Ofcourse, all of this is useless to an anomaly like me so I just close the toolcase, planning to keep it with since its own weight is enough to break someone's day.

Moving on, I notice the toolcase seems to be resting on some kind of thick tarpauline, a greyish one as well. I pull the heavy sheet of parafabric polymer off to check what it was hiding underneath. Seeing it made my broken smile wider as more fun ideas surge into my humble head. Slapping the toolcase and strapping it behind the loading rack, I look for the necessary key to start the thing. With a little swish here and swoosh there, I sweep the whole area with the look like a kid excited to try out his new toy, spotting the shiny item and pushing it in its designated hole. A satisfying roar followed by an idle engine hum fills my ears as I grip on its handlebars, firing it up on full throttle.

I feel better as the smooth, humming sound indicates a well maintained engine. Odd, considering I just cleared through about several months worth of overgrowth. Some kind of hidden sponsorship scheme perhaps? It does say -insert mainstream engine manufacturer- on it. Excited to test it out, I roll the contraption out of the shed and taxi it in place with its thick, ribbed wheels. With a little snicker, gripping the handlebars like a boss and ready to hit the high road, I step on the gas pedal and my head gets pushed back by the force. I am on my way! Beware, fellow contestants, Carn's kicking! "Woohoo!" I jeer, leaving grass flying out from its wake.

_DA 2015 Day 1 Afternoon, 1622 hours

A few minutes in the zipping powerhouse, I seem to have progressed a considerable distance than I would on foot. 12 meters more to be exact. Why the number though, you ask? Well, for one thing, I have found out the thing I'm sitting on wasn't really designed for speed, although the sound of its engine made it seem like one. Also that, aside from its ridiculous noise pollution, it left a beautiful pathway of cut grass on my trail. A lawnmower. Dissapointing but It'll do for now.

Soon, I meet a path of concrete, a road! Finally! Heading west, prompting the petrol-powered packmule, I step on the gas, every press on the pedal giving boost.

God( in this case, "Omni" would have been appropriate), I love this whole 'make sounds with your mouth' thing. Makes me alive again. Thank you rubber man!

I wipe my lips from all that made up sound as the engine dies.

It won't start.

Well, I guess I'm out of fuel, might have had a tiny portion of the tank filled when I found this thing...wait a minute. There are some conveniently placed 'abandoned' vehicles lying around on the side of the road. Three of them. Judging from the outside, all three cars seem to be in bad shape, still I walk off my lawnmower as I check the conditions of each one. As expected, they were all totalled but something caught my attention. The cars' paintjobs may have faded but the caps on the fueltanks left signs of excess fuel dripped out during a rough onsite refuelling like somehow, someone decided to fill the fueltanks at the last minute before dropping us on this little forest park in the middle of the sea. I wonder if I can syphon some for my ride? I walk back to the lobster red lawnmower, digging out from the toolcase I brought in with the mower's loading rack, I see a bendable straw! Perfect!

Now I'll need to suck out the fuel from one of the tanks and transfer the rest to my lawnmower's tank, entrusting omniphysics and fluid dynamics. I'm a genius. All I have to do now is move the ride close to the cars and I mean really close since I only have a straw for a syphoning hose, such a great day. Pushing the little stuntwagon, It eventually gets parked beside one of the cars. I rest the bendable straw at the lip of the fueltank's cap as I suck out as hard and as fast as I can, spitting any fuel that got in my mouth as the straw showers a little stream of red orange liquid from one tank to another. "This'll take a while. Better do something while I wait."

Walking a few feet into the side of the road, my right foot accidentally kicks something hard, a rock. Now, I wonder what this rock would serve in my current situation? Aside from being a brief RP fodder, nothing. I did carry it with me back into the wagon for no particular reason. I mean my writer here wouldn't have bothered to have me kick it if it doesn't have a plot purpose, am I right? I am so smart.

Going back to the car and my lawnmower, I find that the straw had fallen off and now I just wasted my time waiting for something that didn't work. I would be cursing right now. Annoyed, I tear the trunk off of the degraded sedan , ripping off the annoyong metal flooring that seperates trunkroom flooring with the fueltank. Now that the fueltank is exposed, I tear that darned tank out of its confinement, pouring out its contents into my own ride's fueltank, bolts and strips of steel flying out from the sudden assault I did. I should be making made up noises of the tiny metal pieces landing into hard concrete but I'm so annoyed, I didn't bother. Problem? Remember you agreed to read the whole thing. Now, wity a fuel tank, I kickstart my serious ride into the setting sun. It was turning 5 already, I guess the sun sets early. Watch out! Here I come!

Happy that I succeeded, I casually throw the dumb piece of rock since I think it won't help me anymore. It drops on the side of the road with a 'click' followed by an explosion. As I look back, I see that the three cars were in flames as a giant fireball engulfed the vehicles as it rises into the air, heating the wind. So, this means it was a trap and I went the opposite way. I guess this is what my writer wanted to show me. Good.

_DA 2015 Day 1 Evening, 1940 hours

Soaking wet, I tread the unlit hills on my lawnmower, clearing a beautiful path of cut grass along the way. I wasn't told there will be rain. A storm's brewing too... With only moonshine to guide me from this nighttime darkness and the thin waterscreen of drizzle, I am forced to follow a lightsource from a structure about a mile away. With a little more push into the ride's gas pedal, I reach the building as soon as the rain started picking up, winds blowing off ever so coldly, a seabreeze?

I park the red lawnmower behind the building as I walk in. To my surprise, I find a headless corpse lying around the grass. Dressed in some type of black robe, I lift it up to try and identify the remains. "Awww, it's a boy! A kid? I don't know," I think to myself as I put back his trousers. Are kids even allowed in this game? Right, I met little children before I crashed here so that could be possible.

WARNING: Carn is about to get a bit creepy a couple of lines below. Please skip to the next thick paragraph for the love of everything vanilla.

*sniff sniff* Oh well, this body doesn't smell bad, slightly cooked too! Been a while since I had meat. I have been eating wood since coming here. Thank you and bless all that is tasty.

Ah, lovely. I love my steak medium rare. A bit bone-y though. After that hearty little meal, the rain starts pouring harder.

I go inside the building to seek shelter, shaking the droplets off of me. Inside looks pretty neat and tidy, apart from the spiral staircase, everything looks edgy. One side has a fridge and table counters, the other has some wooden benches to loiter in. The place looks nice enough to dwell as I feel sleepy again. Looking for a room, I don't find anything that resembles one on the ground floor. I climb the stairs to check the other doors. The moment I spot a nice place to slumber in, I walk back down, close the main door and barricade it with the wooden benches, turning the lights off in the process. If anyone planned to get in, they either had to break into the barred door or make their own hole quickly, both cases will cause a lot of noise and I'm pretty sure it'll wake me up. The lack of windows also help.

Trudging my mishapped form, I drop my makeshift scythe and the rotor blade beside the bed. Locking the door and shutting the lamp, I lay down on a warm, cozy bed. The first time ever upon arrival to the Omniverse. The very feeling of being in one works wonders to a fatigued being. This'll be memmorable. A few blinks later, I doze off with a muffled snore.

_DA 2015 Day 2 Dawn, 0??? hours (I can do that too)

Somehow, I wake up earlier than I expected. Odd. With nothing to do, I walk back down, patched leg burning up from the feverish pain. I remove the barricade and go behind the building. Checking for whatever I could do to make my ride sweeter, I fiddle around with whatever was available. Using the toolcase, I look for a screwdriver and slowly unscrew the cover that hides the blades on the belly of the mower. "Anyone stupid enough to get close would lose an ankle, ohohoho. Well, that could be me too."

Looking out of the little window inside the hut I hid my lawnmower in, the storm looks like it's kicking, waving debris at me with a swoosh. Pushing the mower towards the front door, shoving its compact shape into the door frame, I barricade the door with the wooden bench again. Now I have time to fiddle while the storm's beating up everyone. If all goes well, people will have to die from it too. Please let it happen.

Well now, I'm getting bored with this pouring rain. A depressing sight, fitting this probably artificial tropical depression. Since I habe nothing to do, I prepare myself for battle. Clutching my makeshift scythe with my makeshift braced arm, I march downstairs and guard the buildng, dragging the rotor blade behind me. "Ready for battle," I smile at the wall, thinking maybe someone's watching me.

“If you say so.” As Vincent brought his attention away from the window and back to group, his face held conserved skepticism. “Where, though?”

”Yeah, I’m sure. And who the fuck cares?! We stay too long and we’ll be beat up by a rubber pirate, Stretch Luffy; or a secretly racist mouse,” (OH!!!! A Mickey roast!) Deadpool assured. Dante’s Abyss was new to him, but survival was not; moving was the key to survival—stay somewhere too long and become the scraps for a superior survivalist. ”Doesn’t matter where we do, as long as we leave here. Everyone agree?”

“Let’s fuck shit up,” Wartortle replied. His face held the same brashness that Deadpool had remembered from their last meeting. The Pokèmon never let an opportunity slip to be aggressive, and now was no different.

“We’re gonna make motherfuckers pay while we’re out there,” Sasuke included. His ebony eyes held deep, thrashing flames. His time in the diner had been hectic, but enthralling. The boy was ready for blood.

”Wassup, Mr. Enix?” Deadpool asked Vincent. ”You coming with us?” He needed everyone.

The gunslinger hesitated, looked at the ground, but slowly brought his eyes back up to the makeshift crew. “Yeah,” he affirmed, and then nodded.

Deadpool exhumed a large sigh, and let a faint smile show through his mangled mask. If this Vincent was anywhere near as powerful as the game’s, he would be a great ally in battle. ”Good. We’re leaving then. Deadpool and the Japanese-based characters, away!” He proclaimed, pumping his fist.

The group of Primes scavenged the diner before leaving. Not much was left, but what remained was useful nonetheless--cans of vegetables, some pastes, and water—and they snatched them up quick, as if gold. The storm outside still crackled against the island with great strength, but after brief meal the group headed out into the awaiting torrents.

I also found the Uno card Neal threw at Wartortle!!—a yellow draw two!

The strong push of gusts and diagonal downpour lasted only part of their travel, and as the Diner became only a spec in the distance, the torrential attack had deceased to a persistent drizzle. Over yonder, right before land became see, trees sprawled across the land; part of the forest was gone. Vincent hesitation had been good fortune. It kept them from leaving too early, and into nature’s wrath.

Wartortle headed the group as they traveled the beaten path. Deadpool figured it was a good way to feed his need to lead, as he put it. Vincent tailed the line, swaying his head side to side, constantly checking for a theat.

The mercenary watched Sasuke from behind, examining his subtleties. The ninja was a fiery lad, whose motives were driven by revenge. But for now, he was focused on the turtle ahead of him. His eyes never shifted, not even to the sound of shaking tree branches.

”What’s up, man,” Deadpool whispered. He had jumped a few steps ahead to catch the black-haired ninja from behind, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders. He was incredibly fatigued, but surprisingly still nimble (praise the collar, perhaps?) ”You’ve been eyeing Warts (Lol, Warts. . .) since we left the Diner.”

“Just don’t entirely trust him yet, that’s all.” Sasuke’s stare did not break. “Do you?”

Probably because Warts nailed him . . . ;D

”I trust him enough to know that I can’t fully trust him,” Deadpool replied, ”If that makes sense.”

“Makes enough, I suppose.”

Wartortle was a very complex Pokèmon (the most Deadpool had ever heard of). He talked like a Meowth, had the wit of a Alakazam, but still maintained the power of his particular species. All while being almost as insane as the mercenary. And it was the last part that made Deadpool trust Wartortle the most—their few similarities were strong ones.

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

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

The group of unlikely companions trekked across the lush greenery of the island, leaving the Diner at their backs. With the worst of the storm having dissipated, they had decided leaving the building to be in their best interests, as the shelter had thus far proved to be a beacon for battle-ravaged contestants. With the weather now being manageable but not altogether clear, there were sure to be opportunistic Primes crawling toward the structures, searching for supplies not yet claimed and combatants not yet slain.

The ex-Turk had laid his safety in the hands of the cracked mercenary, the brooding shinobi and the wounded mage child previously (not one of his best decisions, but it was necessary), their trek having lead all but Crona to the Diner in an attempt to not be prematurely killed by flying debris in the gale-force winds of Hurricane Karl. In an admittedly fool-hardy/brave attempt to heal his wounds, Crona had wandered into the storm toward the promise of medical assistance. The remainder of the group sought their solace among the pop-culture relics and the smell of old gravy. Still nursing his deadened senses, the pale Prime could do naught but take cover upon the arrival of Jason and Wartortle. Cowardice was not his MO, though neither was dying.

Having put the biggest issues behind them for the moment, the group directed their attention toward their next goal. Vincent tailed the pack, playing lookout to ensure they were not jumped from behind. His senses had more or less returned, save for the occasional flare-up of audio or visual static. The homicidal tortoise had elected himself wordlessly as their leader, with the hot-headed shinobi and lunatic mercenary bobbing somewhere in the middle. Whether or not he trusted the reptile was immaterial; he did not truly trust any of them. The pale gunslinger's anxiety had now vanished entirely, replaced with a simple drive to keep his feet moving. His nerves were shot, owing to the few days of constant tension (though the lightning strike had likely played some part) on the island and utter lack of rest. The night at the Diner had been anything but a respite, the ex-Turk and his comrades having witnessed the gorey death of a young woman; one who it seemed was quite dear to their Sasuke. 'No rest for the wicked', the saying went.

“Hey, will you assholes try and keep up? How am I faster than all of you when I'm half your fucking size?” The terrorist terrapin snarled, spitting a surprisingly strong torrent of water over his shoulder at the group.

Deadpool snickered loudly at the remark, striding forward comically. “Easy little one,” He cooed, bending to pat the little beast on its head. “We'll get to daddy soon.”

The raven-haired gunslinger turned his watch to the east, ignoring the stream of obscenities pouring from the front of their patrol. He had not intended to find himself among the company of other contestants, as he was sure the others had not either. After all, there could be only one person escaping the Abyss with most of their body intact. When the time came, each knew that they would need to slay the others; whether they chose to acknowledge it or not. Vincent was sure that just like he now was, the other members of their rag-tag squad were considering how they might off the others.

“Don't you dare disrespect the Uchiha name! I'll kill you!” The preteen shinobi roared, his fists clenched into tight balls at his sides. The fire so often attributed to his slaughtered clan burned in his eyes.

“Yeah, good luck. Water beats fire you emo fuck.” Wartortle cackled darkly, resting his nailgun on the crest of his shell. “And hey, I was just asking if they were all as mopey as you. No need to get all pissy about it.”

“As much as I'd love to see a crossover clash between two of my favorite Japanese franchises, we should probably not kill each other JUST yet. Not to get all Freud on ya', but maybe aim that hostility at the ones that want us dead? Like, more than we want each other dead. You know what I mean.”

Whether he liked it or not, the ex-Turk's odds were better with these deeply damaged disputants. In a way, this group seemed somewhat...familiar to the pale Prime. Valentine's thoughts shot back to years past, to his adventures with AVALANCHE; the people that had changed his life. Wartortle, the foul-mouthed gun-toting terrorist reminded the pale Prime very much of Barret in his younger years (as much as a 3 foot talking turtle could remind one of an 8-foot black man), intent on his cause, everyone else be damned. Deadpool, with his incessant jabbering and borderline nonsensical riffing reminded the Prime somewhat of Cait Sith (as much as a katana-weilding mercenary could remind one of a robotic feline astride an enormous stuffed Moogle), his constant harassment and infallibly upbeat attitude somehow bringing the group closer together. Sasuke, the constantly brooding avenger, reminded Vincent strongly of Cloud (this was less of a stretch than the others), his pride and power pushing through anything that obstructed his path. Tension had been a constant throughout the competition, but this brief moment of nostalgic unity quelled the Prime's fear for the moment.

“Step it up, Captain Bondage. We need to keep a quick pace if we want to not be dead.” Deadpool quipped, trotting backward in front of Vincent.

The ex-Turk smirked. “Lead the way.”
[Image: G3vODOp.png]
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.

With Link over his shoulder, Ganondorf powered through the forest away from Gilgamesh and his cronies. Pain shot through his arm at every step, causing spots to dance in front of his eyes and threatening to send him spiraling into unconsciousness. But, he would not, could not, stop running. To stop would be to die. And the Gerudo King was not yet ready to leave this game.

As he ran, Ganon thought about what had happened in that building behind him. He remembered Karl’s voice coming over the speakers, warning of the storm. He remembered seeing the building, and watching dark shadows pass by the windows and concocting the scheme to use that strange ball as a diversion. Everything was going so well too, in the beginning. Until… Gilgamesh. Ganondorf cursed himself for a fool for ever provoking the man. If not for the Gerudo’s pre-game taunting, he may have been able to convince the golden-armored man and his lackey to join forces with himself and Link. And because of his foolishness, they were both in a bad way.

Even over the din of the pelting rain, the thunder, and his own heavy footsteps and breathing, the Demon King could hear the scraping of bone against metal at his left. Blood, both his and Link’s, splattered his armor and the ground, briefly turning the puddles a pink color before the torrential downpour washed it away. Ganondorf knew he couldn’t keep up this pace. That he couldn’t run forever and that he would eventually succumb to his wounds and bloodloss without proper treatment. Yet, no safe haven had yet presented itself to the Gerudo King, and he could not allow Gilgamesh an opportunity to finish him off. The behemoth of a man stumbled in the dark and rain, his wounds beginning to take their toll. First once… then again. Finally, the man fell to his knees, Link slumping off of his shoulder and into the muddy leaves flooring the forest. Ganondorf’s breath was ragged and heavy, his eyes dragging down as his body began to shut down. Yet, through the haze and the downpour, the Gerudo could see, in the canopy, a blinking red light. He had seen many during this event and had been able to deduce that they were what Karl Jak was using to broadcast this event.

Rage flared within his breast, Ganondorf’s lips curling into a snarl. He fought against his body, forcing it to remain kneeling rather than to fall to the forest floor like his companion. To Karl, this was all but a game. A twisted entertainment designed to placate the masses. And so, with eyes full of hate and malice, he shouted at Karl’s device, letting loose his frustrations and fury.


Water splattered incessantly on Link's skin, cooling the skin where it was intact and stinging where it wasn't. The pain wasn't receding, but at least the bleeding had reduced. Light headed and weak, he forced himself into a sitting position, flinging one of his backpacks to his lap with his good arm, being mindful to dodge the arrow wound. Ganondorf lay on the muddied ground beside him, throwing his anger at the Dante's Abyss organiser. How the Gerudo king thought that he could actually speak with Karl Jak was beyond Link, but he hadn't a mind to ponder it.

His working arm dived into his satchel and scurried about for sustenance. Finding the container, he yanked it out and tossed it to Ganondorf before finding another for himself.

"Eat," Link said. "And stop being so angry. We've got to conserve energy. Yelling into the sky isn't going to help that."

Ganondorf seethed at his companion, but must have seen the logic in his statement. He struggled onto his arse, and still with a furrowed brow and an upturned lip, dug into his meal.

The rain made the food less palatable than it already was. Link was used to fresh, steaming food, not this prepackaged imitation. Still it calmed the stomach and gave him energy. In this situation, he had to look for every and any silver lining he could find, because there was one hell of a storm cloud looming overhead.

"This is ridiculous!" Ganondorf suddenly shouted. "How can we be reduced to this? I am Ganondorf, and I am broken and sitting in the rain!"

Link finished chewing his last bite and threw away the container. After everything they'd been through together and even just himself mentally, he was surprised to find how much clarity he had. He grabbed the arrow still sticking through his thigh, twisted it and pulled. The projectile came whizzing out, a fresh oozing of blood in its wake. The pain sizzled inside his limb, but he ignored it, throwing the arrow away.

"Ganondorf," Link said. The dark lord turned to face him, his face tortured by fury and embarrassment. When the lighting crashed, it lit up his face in just the right way as to remind Link of when he defeated him in his castle, his self righteous rage bringing him to collapse his entire fortress just to have a chance at killing the Hylian. "Calm down. This isn't over yet."

Ganondorf's anger simmered down, but he still clutched it tightly. "What are we to do now, boy? Between us, we barely have a functional body."

Link gazed into the sky, droplets of rain slinking down his long blonde hair and dripping onto the ground. "Do you have any idea how many times I could've given up when I walked out of Kokiri Forest? I was punched, kicked, slashed, thrown, hit with arrows, burned with fire, frozen, electrocuted ... there were even times where I fell and couldn't get back up. But you know what? I never gave up. I had Navi, I had the help of the Great Fairies, and I had my courage. That's all I needed, and that's what I brought with me when we finally squared off in your tower."

"Nice pep talk kid, but I don't see how -"

"Just shut up and listen to me, will you?" Link said. "My point is ... we aren't done yet. I might have a broken arm and a wounded leg, you in a similar state ... but we are powerful. We are the two who decided the fate of Hyrule. We are the two who have defeated opponent after opponent, our strength and determination unbreakable. As long as we still have breath in our bodies ... we are not done. Our wills are stronger than any injury. Do you hear me? We are not done!"

Ganondorf opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. A faint grin spread over his lips, though the sharpness didn't leave his eyes. "Impressive, boy. Hard to fathom such a saccharine speech would have a modicum of merit to it."

Link laughed despite the throbbing heat in his thigh. "Like you said, you've got your skills ... I've got mine."
[Image: illidansig2.jpg]

"Yea but I don't like to hold back." Gildart's fiddled with his collar a little, aware that too much bothering with it would kill him. He felt that he should put his all into everything and without his magic he was uncomfortable in this world. "Desco didn't like it either. But Desco's daddy helped make them, so she likes to wear it!" There was a tone of pride in Desco's voice and she puffed out her chest a little with her hands on her hips. She loved doing things to help her daddy. "Is that right kid." "Yes! Desco doesn't like being so weak, she's a Final Boss! Desco used to be able to shoot big beams of energy and destroy cities in one shot!" Desco flung out her hands in a wide gesture then settled down. "But Omni took all that away.." "You aren't the only one kid, I had a few tricks before I got here too."

Luffy devoured the MRE, while Guu took the time to check outside. It's been some time and the winds were already calming down out there. She looked around the house that they were in, some kind of residential apartment that only had dust and no furniture. She sighed and started to go through her pack and then called out to the others. "We are probably running low on water now, so I'm going to put the bottles outside." Guu went outside with all of the empty water bottles, everyone drinking their fill and emptying the last of them, going out to find some pieces of scrap wood to keep them standing up outside. "I'll help!" Luffy followed Guu and helped her collect what she needed. Then Guu shapeshifted one of her arms into a funnel to collect water filling into each bottle. "Woah, that is so wierd! Even I can't stretch like that
! Ha ha ha.."
Luffy tried to stretch into different shapes, but his efforts did little so he watched the dark sky.

As Guu and Luffy got back Gildarts was already dozing off standing against the wall and Desco had set up Yogsothoth as a bed. "It is late isn't it. I'll take first watch this time, you go to sleep Luffy." Luffy stretched his arms and yawned. "Yea I guess so, thanks Bubblegum." Luffy felt flat on the floor, able to sleep pretty much anywhere, while Guu stood and watched over them in the light of the small fire that Gildarts had set up long before they got there.

It was daybreak and Gildarts was on watch as he solemnly contemplated his situation. He had to kill everyone on this island in the end, and here were three kids that just instantly trusted him with their lives. If he finished them off right here and now he'd have less competition. But he certainly couldn't do that, not with Guu or her friends. What would happen if it were only him and them in the end? He let them sleep as he looked out the window, until eventually Luffy stretched out an arm in his sleep and knocked into one of Yog's tentacles. Gildarts watched, surprised as the thing started to tilt but caught itself and used its tentacles to prevent Guu and Desco from moving , floating slightly off the ground. As it set back down into the bed position, Desco sat up and looked around, wondering what had woken her up."Good morning." "Morning!" Desco shook Guu awake and Luffy.

"It's time we get going." "I agree. It is good to have shelter but we can't stay in one area for too long or we'll get caught by the enemy." "Let's Go!" The four gathered up their things and set out to leave behind the urban area and go out into less developed areas.

Face to Face
#15 Violet, #03 Blink, and #39 Victor Wolfe vs #05 Gilgamesh, #33 Jon Snow ,& #26 Doomyguy

The newly forged trio of Victor, Violet, and Blink made their way up to the top of the mountain. Unlike a natural mountain, this one terminated with a little plateau that they figured had been cut deliberately. With the storm essentially a done deal, they had some time to try and let their clothes dry before continuing on to whatever awaited them next in the Abyss. Aside from run-ins that resulted in nothing more than acquiring some neat gear, the trio had run into no hiccups thus far, and with a day behind them already, they were all starting to feel a little confidence booster.

“I think I see something,” Victor suddenly whispered as he waved over the two women. “Down there,” he muttered as he pointed to two men gingerly making their way up a cramped path in the mountain. One of them was dressed in dark colors, but the other was clad in golden armor that reflected every minute ray of sunlight that managed to break through the thinning layer of clouds overhead.

From the other side of the clearing, the trio heard the sound of heavy boots crunching against rock. “That could be someone else,” Blink spoke as she crouched and took a few steps over to try and get a better look.

“We have the high ground… This should be easy pickings,” Violet whispered back as she retrieved the Lancer. “We’ll just pick them off before they get a chance to r—” Before the woman could finish her plan, Victor Wolfe slammed the syringe into her neck and smashed down on the plunger. Violet Uzamaki’s eyes went wide as her elbow found the former assassin’s face. As Victor stumbled, he heard the whir of the Lancer, and he felt the first few bursts of automatic fire tear through him.

The gun fell quiet though, as its owner—the area around the needle wound a spreading black pestilence—let out a whimper and collapsed. Even as her body twitched against her will, the mixture of shock and anger never left her eyes until her body collapsed into black ashes that were scooped up into the wind.


Victor turned faintly and watched as Blink rushed at him. The mutant lashed out with a heavy kick that threw her friend’s killer to the ground.

A thousand thoughts burned through her mind as she raced to retrieve the rifle still resting a few yards away. She managed to scoop it up just as the gold-plated man and his ally made their arrival. Blink swung the rifle and mashed the trigger as the arrow sank into her shoulder and threw her to the ground. The burst went wide of its intended target, but the mutant didn’t let the ringing in her head stop her from trying to line up another shot. Before she could, the Power Pole smacked the barrel of the gun and knocked it from her grasp. Blink turned to see its wielder, Victor, wearing the same smirk as the other two men.

“You played us.” Blink muttered.

“All’s fair in this place,” Victor replied as Gilgamesh walked over and hooked an arm around the man.

“It’s not over,” Blink replied as a wave of pink energy flared up beneath her. The woman dropped through, leaving behind some glowing pink residue.

The mutant appeared on the far end of the plateau and turned to make her escape, but her intended path brought her right into the chest of a man in elegant armor. A gauntleted fist crushed around Blink’s throat as the oxygen stopped reaching her brain. She heard the sound of approaching boots and knew that the others were coming to finish the job.

With all the desperation the mutant could muster, she used a free hand to create another portal beneath the marine. He let out a grunt as he toppled down through the portal, his grip weakening enough that Blink was tear it away before Doomguy vanished.

The marine dropped out of another portal and crashed atop the other three men. Before any bullets or arrows could follow her, Blink was over the edge and down the mountain.

#15 Violet Dead
33 Primes Remain

Violet has been banished to the Underverse.
Victor has been shot all up the side – Major Injury (+8 Damage)
Blink has been shot in the shoulder with an arrow and suffered some scrapes and bruises on the way down the mountain -- Major Injury and Minor Injury (+10 Damage)

Blink used Tier 0 Super Move Teleportation Energy (-1 SP)

The Banishment Serum has been used.
The Lancer and the PEELs are there for the winners.
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

Face to Face
#19 Ganondorf & #18 Link vs #31 Okor

Karl Jak and the boardroom shook their heads as they watched the next scene play out.

“This fucking clinic,” the Executive Producer mumbled.


Okor had secured his fallen allies’ legacies.

The plague marine felt nothing, even though his body had literally fallen apart around him. With nothing to defend himself but an improvised blade clutched in his remaining hand, he stood silently and waited for the next invaders. This building had once been something mundane and unimportant.

Now it was the graveyard of two space marines, and that made it the most important landmark on this pitiful island.

The plague marine stood watch over the refrigeration unit even as he heard the wet smack of boots in the muddy grass outside the clinic. Looking forward, he watched as the dark-skinned Xeno and his smaller ally made their way through the debris field outside the structure and entered.

“Look who it is,” Ganondorf muttered as he stared at the plague marine. Although the Gerudo was grinning, it was obvious that he had suffered nearly as much as Okor had.

This was the moment.

Okor ran forward, his eyes burning with rage as he clutched the blade in his hand. The plague marine lumbered nearly half the distance before the rocket struck him in the chest. Thrown by the impact, he crashed flew backwards and crashed with a dull thud against the ground. He tried to pull himself up, but his body wouldn’t listen. A glance down revealed that his legs were both gone.

With the blade still in his hands, Okor smashed it into the ground in an attempt to leverage his body into a more upright position. He wanted to look them in the eye as they struck him down. He wanted them to know that they hadn’t broken him. As the plague marine lifted his head, his eyes met with Link as the second rocket left the launcher with a whoosh.

#31 Okor Dead
32 Primes Remain
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

Face to Face
#23 Guu, #37 Luffy, #38 Desco & #21 Gildarts vs #44 Negi Springfield

The last few hours had been quiet for the newly formed quartet of Ambrosians (regardless of semantics, everyone would continue to just refer to the group as Ambrosia because of the shield-totting monster-girl-creature-thing).

When they entered the school hoping to shake off the wetness and relax for a little bit, they were taken aback to see a young man had already claimed the place. Negi Springfield held up an oversized hammer as the quartet entered the lobby of the school. “Hey, this is my place… please leave,” he said, even though his tone was rife with uncertainty as his opponents glanced around to see if anyone else was hiding within eyeshot.

“Better head out,” Gildarts said as Guu stepped forward and nodded her head.

“Back out there? You heard all those people dying… I ain’t doin that,” he said as he fumbled for something at his feet. The quartet noticed that it was some sort of wire that ran into a nearby room.

“Don’t do that,” Luffy said as Negi yanked the cord.

All at once, the fire alarms throughout the school started to scream, and every single sprinkler activated, dosing the Ambrosians in water as they all winced at the blasting sound.

Negi took his moment.

Power flushed over the man as he rushed at them. His hammer crashed against the head of the creature with the tentacles and threw her for a loop as the man spun and swung at pink-haired midget. Guu had recovered quicker from the sensory barrage and deflected the hammer blow with her shield, leaving Negi wide-open as Luffy’s hand crashed into his skull. As he stumbled backwards, Negi was struck in the face by the Vibranium shield, obliterating his jawbone and causing him to spew up a mixture of blood, saliva, and teeth.

Guu stepped forward after checking to make sure Desco hadn’t been injured too much. The pink-haired leader of Ambrosia then returned her focus to Negi, who had dropped to a knee. Guu sucked in a deep breath until her cheeks were puffy with air, and when she blew out, the result was a barrage of medieval weaponry that hurtled across the school lobby. The collection of swords and axes slammed into Negi’s body, tearing straight through him or cleaving away chunks of flesh and muscle in a gorish display that caused even Karl Jak to wince once or twice.

When the tenth weapon—a giant hammer much like the one he had once held—hit Negi, the impact threw him back through the door that led to the school office. The assortment of bloodstained weapons that hadn’t impaled themselves into the man turned into pink goop and faded away.

#44 Negi Springfield DEAD
31 Primes Remain

Desco has a big ole bruise on her head and a mild concussion, ouch! – Minor Injury (+4 Damage)
Guu has used Tier 1 Super Move Spit Take (-2 SP)

The Hammer is there for Ambrosia
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

She could hear her own heaving breathing over the rain coming down on her as she trekked down the mountain. Her collar was practically buzzing with every portal she spawned, zooming in and out of them and fighting the limitations of the metal device on her neck. She stumbled her way down the steep hill until finally she hit flat land, practically jumping into a bustle of bushes to get behind them. This was the first time she had a chance to relax and just catch her breath since the craziness near the top of the mountain. Violet had allowed a sniveling rodent into their group and she paid for it. She was dead and Blink was left with a painful reminder of what happens when you trust too easier. Her fingers curled around the arrow in her shoulder, hissing as she gently nudged it. It hurt.

You have to trust me. That's what she said. That's what Violet had told Blink. So Blink did; she did everything in power to suppress the bad feeling in her gut and went with the lavender-haired warrior. Violet had a lot of good experience in this game and she made a good case for needing to team up with somebody. But what Blink didn't take into account was...maybe Violet wasn't a good player in the game. It made sense, considering she had played twice - three times, now - and hadn't won. But despite her concerns, Blink trusted Violet.

And now Violet was dead.

Blink didn't like this Victor Wolfe character when he first showed up. It was different then when Violet had teamed up with her. He had a rat-like face and was almost seemed too eager for the alliance. Violet had earned her way into a group with Blink - this guy just walked in and practically begged on his hands and knees for one and got it? Something was fishy, and Blink knew it. But Violet said: You have to trust me. Blink let her guard down. They both did. It was a mistake.

Blink shifted so she was leaning back against a tree trunk with he green duffel bag at her right side. She looked over at the wound that was left. She had an arrow sticking out of her shoulder. There were other smaller wounds along her pink body, but this was by far the only one with real consequences. She growled as she remembered when the projectile stabbed into her. Anger was good. She knew that anger was going to get her through this pain. Her fingers curled around the arrow again. It was going to have to come out. She pulled up the fabric on her green robe and bit into it, groaning as her little fingers pulled harshly on the arrow.

The sound of skin breaking further hit her pointy ears. Her groan turned into a scream, which she muffled with her free hand as the arrow slowly came out of it's bloody pocket. Once she felt it loosen enough, she surprised herself by yanking it clean out, causing blood to immediately spurt from her open wound. The scream devolved down into a squeak as she dropped the arrow onto the grass. Thinking fast, she ripped off some of the emerald fabric near her slender ankle and wrapped it under her armpit and over the wound. It wasn't the prettiest bandage in the world, given the thinness of the cloth, but it would do. She let out a relieved sigh, happy that ordeal was over.

Claire moved onto her knees, her breath starting to return to normal. She put a hand on her bag and opened a small pocket on it; big enough to pull out her Super Barbie. She looked down at it. It was useless as a weapon, but it was brought her comfort. Warmth. It reminded her of herself a bit, when she was younger and innocent. Before life forced her into a road of violence. It also reminded her of Violet. As foolish as her strategy was, Violet was optimistic and full of charm. She didn't deserve her fate, even though she asked for it. She stroked the blonde hair of the cute barbie doll, taking a moment to admire it. Then she squeezed her small hand around it tightly. Anger started to soak back into her.

Blink was a lot of things, but a graceful loser was not one of them. She was competitive and reckless. Violet had talked her into playing it safe; going with the numbers. This was a tournament and Blink wanted to fight. Now she could. Now she had a purpose. To win this game.

She was an underdog now. But she would prove them all wrong.

Glowing with rage over her pink hue, Claire Ferguson stood up, duffel bag in one hand and Super Barbie in the other. The teleporting prime looked up, as if she was staring directly into a camera. "I am no longer a passive space-waster on this island! I will not stand here and be hunted!" She declared, as if anybody on this desolate battleground could hear her. But it made her feel good. "If I'm going to die here, I'm going to take as many of you fuckers with me! You should be very, very afraid! I am in this to win this now."

The magenta mutant gripped with her fingers around the handle of the duffel and turned to walk away. She had a Plan B and now it was time to act on it. It felt good to have a purpose now - a reason she was here in this place. It made her feel whole. She couldn't help but think of a certain purple-topped martial artist that had led her this way. It was an ugly stumble to get Blink to this comfortable, violent place. But it was a fact that Blink could not have gotten there without her. So above all else...this was for her.

For Violet.
[Image: blink2k15.png]

Delsin had to wonder how long it's already been into the night at that moment in time. The three Primes had already made it to the Mill, although the Doc woke up with nightmares much longer before Delsin even opened his eyes. Jak was simply waiting for the two to get up so that they could get moving sometime soon.

As Delsin finally opened his eyes, and seated himself upright, Jak looked back at Delsin whilst he was sitting.

"Finally..." Jak mumbled to himself, seemingly in relief. Delsin shook his head a bit, looking around for McNinja, only seeing him leaning against a tree. Delsin really didn't like how eerily silent and dark it was at that moment, knowing it wasn't safe in the slightest. It did give them an upper hand in the whole stealth department though, although Delsin was never admittedly good at that.

"Man, it's late..." Delsin groaned, stretching his arms outwards, before standing up again.

Jak almost immediately responded, "Exactly, which is why we should probably get moving now that we've rested somewhat."

McNinja blinked, not seeming to care about Delsin's wake, simply in deep thought. Clicking his tongue, Delsin reached behind him to grab his duffel bag, before unzipping it. Jak looked on for a second, before staring off into the forests again as Delsin shuffled around for the map. When Delsin finally got the large piece of paper out of his bag, the three then saw a flash in the distance, and the sound of thunder soon following. Dangerously soon.

"I forgot to mention, the weather's getting bad soon. Real bad. More of a reason we need to get to someplace before we're hunted down." Jak spoke up, before standing himself. He watched as Delsin unfolded the map, staring at it intensely.

"No kidding..." Delsin muttered, scratching at his chin. After a while of mental planning, Delsin looked up to Jak, explaining, "The closest place I can see we can go to is that Mill... E7, I think. If the weather's gonna hit us, then that'll be the only area we can get to, since the Clinic's overrun..."

To both Jak and Delsin's surprise, McNinja raised his hand slightly, speaking suddenly, "I agree. I just want to get as far away from that Clinic as possible..."

Delsin blinked, responding, "Y'know, it's not that far away-"

"HUSH! Can a man dream anymore without somebody popping their bubble?!" McNinja yelped, interrupting Delsin, who shrugged at the Doctor afterwards.

Jak sighed, shaking his head. "Might as well get going, then," Jak said to his two comrades, before grabbing at his bag and putting it on his back.

Zipping up his own bag, Delsin got himself standing, before nodding at Jak.

Delsin scratched at his head, mumbling in frustration, "Why'd I ever sign up for this..."

Face to Face
#13 Strazio Rockwell vs #46 Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson

Strazio Rockwell was having the worst of luck as of late. His attempt to find shelter at the diner had led to him being thrust into the middle of some very unpleasant drama, and he’d managed to get nailed for all his troubles. As he made his way from the scene of yet another unfortunate scuffle, the Defender of Darkshire kept walking as the storm faded away to a heavy rain. Despite how wet he was, he didn’t mind too much—the rain washed away all of the grime and sweat and dried blood from his beleaguered body.

“Well look at this,” a voice called out from a few yards away. Strazio turned to see a hulking man in short tights sitting on a weightlifting bench. The wrestler was doing curls with a set of dumbbell that read ‘400 kgs’ on both sides. “Who in the blue hell are you?” Dwayne replied as he dropped the dumbbell and stood up to look over at Strazio.

“Excuse me?” Strazio barked as he limped over to confront the Rock. “I am Strazio Roc—”

“It doesn’t matter who you are!” The Rock interrupted as a grin spread across his face. “You waltz up here, into the People’s gym, confronting the People’s Champ, and expecting to spit-spatter in my face without having me layeth the smacketh down on your candy ass?”

Strazio grit his teeth as he threw down his scant possessions and held up his fists. “Shut up and fight me then… just fucking bring it.”

With that, the Rock lifted a single eyebrow and grinned. “The Rock likes your spirit, Kid. He’ll like it even more when it stomps it out of you.”

Before Strazio had a chance to retaliate, the ground beneath him started to shudder. The Defender of Darkshire looked down and realized that a wrestling ring had somehow been summoned up underneath him and the Rock. The white-haired man tapped his foot on the surface and noted that it was indeed some sort of canvas. The whole elevated platform was surrounded by three red ropes, and in each corner, there were posts with padded turnbuckles. “What the hell is this?” Strazio demanded as he turned to glare at the Rock.

“The People’s ring,” the Rock replied nonchalantly as he gestured around them. “Can’t you feel it? The millions.” The man paused for dramatic purposed. “And millionsssss of the Rock’s fans?”


Dwayne scowled as he cracked his neck. “Well then it’s time for you to go one-on-one with the Great One!” With a burst of speed, the Rock sprung forward and clotheslined Strazio. The impact threw the Defender of Darkshire into the air and spun him head-over-heels before he crashed down onto the ring floor. Still smiling, the Rock jiggled one of his giant legs before bringing it crashing down onto his foe’s ribs. Strazio rolled before the boot fell onto him a second time, and with a grunt, the white-haired warrior rose to his feet and threw his good arm at the Rock’s face, catching the man in the jaw.

Laughing now, the Rock spit onto the floor and grabbed Strazio by the shoulder and arm. The wrestler then threw the man toward the side of the ring, and unable to stop his own momentum, Strazio hit the ring ropes and was bounced back toward his opponent. Before he could stop himself, he was horizontal atop the Rock’s shoulders and being driven back into the canvas. A groan escaped the man’s throat as his opponent grabbed him by the ankles and lifted them off the ground.

The Rock proceeded to step through Strazio’s legs and fold his ankles across one another. With some smack that Strazio couldn’t hear through the ringing in his head, the wrestler took another step forward, turning the Defender of Darkshire over onto his belly before wrenching back on his captured legs. Almost immediately, Strazio felt the pain shoot through his legs as Rock crouched down and leaned back with all his awesome might.

“Tap out!” The Rock shouted as Strazio writhed in pain on the canvas. The man refused to relent as he leveraged his broken arm under his own body to give him some elevation off the mat. Looking forward, he saw the ropes and realized that if he could just crawl to them, he might be able to slip through them to the ground outside the ring.

Screaming out in pain, Strazio slammed his only good elbow into the mat and used all his might to try and drag himself toward the ropes. Through some sort of miracle, the Defender of Darkshire managed to pull himself a few inches closer, and before the Rock could drag him forward, he threw out his hand and closed it around the rope. After four agonizing seconds, his opponent suddenly released the hold, and Strazio’s agonized legs thudded to the mat. A beat later, two hands clenched around his ankles, and the man was hoisted up into the air and slammed down once more.

“Been a long time since someone managed not to tap out to that,” the Rock replied as Strazio rolled over onto his back. “You might not be a jabroni after all… what did you say your name was?”

“Strazio… Strazio Rockwell,” the winded prime muttered.

“Rockwell?” The Rock asked, his face an expression of amusement as he reached out with a hand. “What do you say we team up? We can call ourselves the Rock n’ Rock Connection.”

“Deal,” Strazio muttered as he reached up and accepted the man’s hand. As he was lifted to his feet, the ring sank back into the ground and was soon only a memory.

[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

Jak nodded "Come on, you two.. Let's get inside... we can talk in a bit."

Jak was used to the whole nights with little sleep thing, considering he had struggled sleeping on a hard cot in the Underground with Daxter on his belly. Once Jak and the other primes made it inside, Jak took a breath of relief and forced himself to relax.

This death tournament had taught him more things then he ever cared to know about his life and others as well. He also realized he had wanted to keep his allies safe more than ever.

He looked over at the experienced man near them and nodded over at him and tried to force his tenseness down.

Even Jak's collar had kept some of his worst nightmares at bay...

which was a good thing.
[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' 

Despite all the murders he'd managed to commit within the last day and how much he'd sinned, the Old Gods still seemed to hold some favour in Jon Snow.

Enough faith to keep him alive, at least. As he'd awoke from his rest, he was greeted with the grinning face of Gilgamesh, as well as the news that he was going to survive. The man they'd come across, Victor, had gone to good lengths to mend Jon's body and mind with his stimpacks, all of them. Jon was grateful for his life, of course, but the bastard was beginning to wonder; was this really all worth it? The only way out of this torture and massacre now was the sweet release of death. Jon wanted out from here, he just wished there was another way; any other than death.

Snow wouldn't get to meet the man who healed him - not until some hours later, anyway. All a part of Gilgameshes's unspoken plan. They saw him against whilst scaling Mount Blair, and he walked with two women - one had violet hair, the other purple skin and pointed ears. And when their backs were turned, that's when Victor strikes out. Stabbing the purple-headed woman in the back with some injection, she (quite literally) dispersed into thin air and ash, her body evaporating with little trace to leave behind. As her pointy-eared acquainted caught what was going on and rushed for Victor, Gilgamesh sprung into action, and Jon only followed. A short stand-off occurred before, from behind the rocks and stone, another emerged. A tall, bulky man wearing fine, elegant armour. Something that offered him protection? The hulk of a man was close to finishing the job of killing the purple woman, anyway, though she narrowly escaped. Quite the victory had been won for their group today, and the King was in quite high spirits because of it.

Yet Jon grew restless as his thoughts and inner-being ate away at him. What was that? What did Victor use?

The death he'd witnessed back there atop the mountain had been unlike any other death he'd seen here so far. That woman... she just dispersed... poof, and she was gone. It was just about beginning to baffle Jon. Was there more too it than that?

He grew so restless from it, in fact, that had decided to question Gilgamesh about it, before anything else.

The King of the Sands had seated himself under a tree, taking some time to regain his energy and strength as well as admire his new weapon - the one he'd scooped up after the violet-haired woman had perished into nothingness. Jon made quick haste to approach him, his long, dark fur-cloak swaying slightly with his movements. The King anticipated his footsteps, glancing up slightly so their eyes met, hazel-brown against drained red. "Jon?" Gilgameshs's eyebrow raised slightly as his Knight of Honour approached.

"Your grace" The Bastard of Winterfell gave a bow of courtesy and respect. The King's already-present grin widened slightly, as he turned back to look down at his new weapon. "I'm glad you're still with us, Snow. For despite that wound in your chest, you still prove... of high value, and of high use". Jon's facial expression twisted and turned at that. He wasn't sure to be offended or flattered. Uses? He did not wish to be some tool, but then again, isn't that what he's been this whole time?

"'Thank you, your grace" Jon spoke out in response, glancing behind him momentarily and clearing his throat before continuing. "But... I wanted to ask you something..." the bastard let the words trail from tongue as the King's eyes widened a bit, his interests clearly perked. "What was it Victor used on that woman? The thing that made her just... melt away like that?". The King's grin broadened into a sadistic sneer at that. "Ahh... the banishment serum..." Gilgamesh let out a slight laugh, resting further back against the tree. Jon's head tilted to the side somewhat. "Banishment serum?" he spoke with confusion. The King squinted a bit for a few moments, before his eyes lit up.

"You've never heard of banishment? Huh..." the King closed his eyes, inhaling through his nostrils as he took in some fresh air before going on to explain. "When you're banished, you're sent to the Underverse... the deepest hell of the Omniverse" the King's already wide smile became larger as he explained, and Jon went just a little bit pale. "Not many have been there; I certainly haven't. But it's rumoured to contain all manner of... horrifying beasts and creatures" the King shrugged his shoulders simply. "We all know one thing for certain, though; when you're sent to the Underverse, there's no coming back. I'd say it's a shame, but it really isn't" the King guffawed. "Foolish, naive and ignorant mongrels like her only belong in a place such as that... I'm just saddened we couldn't bring the other bitch to heel".

And it was at that moment that the loose tower of respect and camaraderie Jon had had for and with Gilgamesh collapsed completely.

Jon spun around, storming off angrily with no words. He could have swore he heard the King call after him, but Jon didn't care. He was a monster, a beast in human skin. He had this planned all along. And now that Jon had helped them, he was no better than a wild animal or a savage, either. He was condemned, just as much as they were.

Snow spotted Victor re-emerge from the woods as he walked, and he felt his gloved fists ball, his anger immediately transitioning to him. The bastard's boots smacked against the ground as he bolted for him, and Victor barely had any time to spin around and say anything before Jon had grabbed at his collar, holding him by the scruff of his neck.

"You piece of shit" Jon spoke through bared teeth. He brought a clenched fist up as if to punch Victor, but before he cough, Gilgamesh had charged him down, pinning him against the tree with his hands around his neck.

"Jon Snow!" the King yelled into his face. Jon struggled against the mans grip for some moments, staring him deafeningly in the eyes. Gilgamesh took a deep breath inward and closed his eyes before he continued. "...Do you wish to live?" he inquired with a much more calm and collected tone. Jon also took the time to barely compose himself, before nodding slowly. "Then... forsake your honour" the King sighed. "Forsake your morals. They'll do you no good out here. Not in this place. Here, you must fight for yourself and your friends, and nobody else. You cannot afford to. Do you understand?".

Jon glared at him darkly for a few more seconds before his expression loosened, and he nodded once again. The King's hands steadily slipped from Jon's throat, and the golden-armoured royal turned around, silently walking off.

Jon took a deep breath inward as he watched him go, clutching at his chest. He shook his head. He was an animal, a monster, a vile creature...

But he was right.

Jon may be his father's son, but he didn't want to die as his father did. Being betrayed and beheaded as though he were a common brigand or rogue outlaw. No. He had come too far now to die. His whole life he had persevered against rough odds, and he would not stop here. He will make it out of this alive, no matter what the cost.

Snow's head tilted up as he hopelessly stared up at shifting morning sky.

Father, brother... forgive me. I have dishonoured myself in the sights of gods and men, and I must continue doing so if I want to live.
[Image: tumblr_nzzfidB5IX1tcnpluo4_1280.png]

Harry's dreams on this island were far from calm. The problem with, and the point to, shoving away Winter until he needed it was that he still felt all his guilt. Samus having to execute that kid, weird powers and aggression or not, dredged up some unpleasant memories. His dream didn't have a narrative; he was just reliving everything he'd ever done wrong. DuMorne's ruined form stumbling out of the burning house that had been Harry's home for years, watching Victor Sells devoured by the demon he'd summoned, Bianca's mansion burning down with all those innocent victims still trapped inside. Aurora torn to bits by a swarm of tiny fairies armed with box cutters. Executing the Corpsetaker in Luccio's body. The memories were accompanied by fears that had yet to be realized; Molly being executed because of him vanishing, Murphy being slaughtered by something he hadn't been there to save her from, Michael and his family murdered at the hands of Nicodemus Archelone.

Harry Dresden slept, but he did not rest well.

When he awoke, it was to Samus nudging him awake, clad in her bright orange armor. "We need to move, Harry." If he'd given any indication as to the type of dream he had, she didn't comment on it. The wizard was grateful for that. He didn't want to talk about that dream. Harry stood up and grabbed his gun and bag, and the group set off, leaving the cave behind for the damp terrain outside. They traveled in silence, mostly, until they found a defensible position; a clearing just a few minutes from the road, an old campsite from the looks of it. There were the remains of a small storage shed on the outskirts of the campsite, torn to shreds by the hurricane and scattered throughout the treeline; the impromptu team grabbed the sheet metal pieces that had made up its roof and propped it up against a few trees, creating some sort of shelter that they'd be able to sleep in later.

The wizard excused himself to go gather some wood together, a skill honed through years on Ebenezar's farm. He returned after a ten-minute absence, piling the wood together in the firepit in a textbook pyramid. It took time and effort, but eventually he managed to get a small fire going. Small enough that it didn't smoke much, and it didn't provide that much heat either, but with all the injuries that people had sustained, a bit of warmth while they trekked across the island for the packages like the one they'd found earlier would certainly not go amiss. The coming daylight would hide the fire even better than the lack of smoke.

As the five of them sat in their campsite, Harry decided he couldn't take the silence anymore. "So... scary stories?"
[Image: u17lb3R.gif]

Dr. McNinja shook his head grimly and stretched his mask out. He pinched it around the nose and extended his arm, leaving an opening for the water to enter his mouth. He gently tipped the water bottle into his mouth. After drinking some, he poured some into his hand and scrubbed the mask best he could. It was still covered in Okor’s grime, and still stank up the whole thing. For all he knew, he could be wrong, but it was probably a safe guess that there were no laundry machines in the Abyss.

On the other hand, having drunken some of the water, Doc started feeling much better. He stretched his shoulders, and looked at the others. What was he thinking? He had every PhD. He had summoned river gods to cure acne. Surely he could do something to aid his friends?

Starting with Jak. His arm was broken, and visibly. The least Doc could do was readjust the bones so they could grow back correctly. He assumed that upon death, Jak’s body would reassemble itself pretty healthy, but who knows? Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Jak would survive the whole damn tournament. Regardless, it was causing him pain, and that was bad.

Doc rubbed his chin. They were inside the mill, waiting out the storm. Damp air. High chance for infection. Had to patch up any open wounds first.

He scanned Delsin quickly. Fractured skull. Not fun, especially with the lack of any complex medical equipment nearby. They were, after all, inside a mill. However, he could do some check-ups.

”Hey, Delsin,” McNinja called out, ”Come here for a sec.”

Delsin frowned, then walked over slowly, trying his best to keep his balance. His left leg was limping. As far as he could tell, Delsin did not have any leg injuries.

”Trouble walking,” Doc thought to himself.

”How are you feeling, Dels?” Doc asked.

Delsin scowled. ”Delsin.”

Doc blinked. ”Yeah, I know, I just thought- Cause, nicknames are- It’s a friend thing. We’re friends. I’m doing a friend thing. I- never mind. Could you sit down right here?”

He pulled up a chair and gestured towards it. Delsin slowly limped over and sat down. The back of his head was to Dr. McNinja, who was bending over and gingerly took off Delsin’s hat. Delsin flinched. Doc wasn’t sure if it was because of the fracture or because the hat was dear to him or whatever (people these days had a strange affection for headwear) (you can talk!) (SHUT UP). He started checking Delsin’s head.

”Let me know if anything I touch gives you discomfort,” Doc muttered. After a pause, he added, “That’s doctor-speak for pain.”

”I know,” Delsin replied.

McNinja scanned the smoker’s skull, checking for lumps or cuts. He was a true professional, moving his fingers quickly and gently, as if he was tapping a keyboard silently. Suddenly, Delsin started feeling very… sleepy.

”Wh-what are y-“

”Oh, don’t mind me, I’m checking for any symptoms of very bad fracture. I’m also pressing some key pressure points to make you feel more relaxed. It’s fine, nothing too deadly, unless you messed with your nerves, in which case, it may be. Probably should have checked. But if you aren’t dead by now, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Delsin suddenly winced and hissed, teeth clenched. He was gripping the seat of his chair as hard as he could. Doc lifted an eyebrow and checked where he just pressed. Through the black hair, he could see a small lump on his scalp.

“Hurts there?” Doc asked.

”Yeah,” Delsin hissed.

Doc pressed his stethoscope against Delsin’s back and cringed.

”Good God,” he murmured. Delsin looked back, panicked.

”Why? Is it bad?”

”No, it’s just… You need to see someone about that smoking issue. Your lungs sound like a tractor having a mid-life crisis. On the bright side, head injury isn’t affecting your heart or lungs. Let me see something?”

He pinched the back of Delsin’s neck. Delsin instantly went limp, causing alarm from Jak.

“What did you do?!”

“Nothing!” Doc protested, ”Well, I killed him, technically, but watch-“

With a jolt, Delsin shot out of the chair, dazed.

”What just- I fell asleep and-“

Doc smiled and raised his hands. ”See?”

“And you knew he was going to come back?”

”Of course. I’m a doctor AND a ninja. I know my pressure points better than my birthday. Delsin should no longer feel as dizzy from his wounds. Probably, his left leg is working a little better, and overall, less pain. Am I right?”

”Actually,” Delsin muttered, ”Yeah! Much better. Thanks, Doc!”

”Just doing my job. Unfortunately, I need better equipment to do anything of substance, but anesthetics are free when you’re a ninja-doctor. Jak, your arm…?”

Jak nodded. Dr. McNinja waved at the chair. Jack sat down, gingerly resting his left arm by his side. Doc knelt next to it.

”How’d it…?”

“Big pincer monster thing. No idea. One of the other Primes were controlling it,” Jak replied.

Doc gingerly touched Jak’s elbow. Jak yelped and gritted his teeth.

”Crushed bone,” Doc muttered, ”I can do very little about this. We just have to wait for the bone to grow back, and frankly, that’s gonna be way after we get out of here. What I can do is numb the pain. I can’t return the use of your arm until you get that bone back, but-“ Doc paused, and crouched a while in thought.

“Sounds good,” Jak interrupted.

”Okay, it’s just… This is gonna hurt.”

Doc pinched the base of Jak’s palm, jabbed his elbow with his fingers, then karate-chopped the inside of his shoulder. Jak screamed in pain.

”Sorry,” Doc mumbled, ”But now it shouldn’t hurt as much! In about two minutes, you won’t feel anything at all. Should last a few hours?”

“It’s fine,” Jak hissed through gritted teeth, “You gonna ’technically' kill me too, Doc?”

McNinja chuckled. Delsin looked at them inquisitively.

”What?” Jak and McNinja were now laughing in earnest. ”No, seriously, tell me!”

Aero walked into the building again, drenched by the storm. He had been keeping watch, and for some reason, thought it’d be best to be outside. Moments before Doc could suggest that he wrap himself in a blanket, so that he might avoid catching a cold, Aero snapped, “I can hear you outside. You need to stay quieter. Someone’s gonna hear us.”

Dr. McNinja and Jak waved apologetically. Aero paused for a moment, then stepped outside again and presumed his watch. McNinja started chuckling again, a little quieter.

”I just-“ he paused. ”Hey, I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky as of late. I’m usually… I’m usually a little more light-hearted than this. I don’t know what’s-“

“Doc, we’re all unhappy right now. You don’t need to apologize over anything.”

”What he said,” Delsin said, ”But I’d really appreciate if you didn’t choke me.”

Doc grinned awkwardly. ”Yeah, sorry…”

”Hey, man, you helped with my skull,” Delsin grinned, ”You’re good in my book.”

McNinja nodded, and sat quietly for a minute. It felt… good. He had friends here. That felt good. Even in this hellhole, where hurricanes were ordered like cappuccinos and people killed each other for fun, he had friends. That felt really good.
[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]
Odd hours. Call for appointment.

After the good doc helped with his arm, Jak still gritted through his teeth, but he smiled for once, hearing a sense of laughter from his new friends... the ones he had taken to protect...

Even Delsin had taken a bit of time to laugh and Jak had forced a smile from his normal serious attitude but that hankerchief around his neck perhaps could be a useful... thing to protect one of his friends.

Jak took the time quietly and bent down and said "Listen...guys... I want to show something personal to you... It's from..my world... It means a lot to me..."

The man dug in his kilt and pulled out a red necklace with two symbols on it and showed it to Delsin and the Good Doctor.
[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' 

Dr. McNinja shrugged and looked at what Jak was holding. It was talisman of sorts, red like clay. If he wanted to describe it somehow, Doc would call it the Egyptian hieroglyphics for “yin-yang burrito”.

”What is this?” he asked.

”It’s called the Seal of Mar. It’s… the symbol of my family.”

”Ah. Jak Mar. Right. It’s… quiet beautiful.”

Dr. McNinja sat on the floor, leaning on a nearby table. The wood creaked under his weight. He stretched his arms, and relaxed for a bit. He smiled at Jak.

”Tell us about where you come from,” he said with a friendly voice.
[Image: 665000_mcninja_by_cavenglok-dch0qt5.jpg]
Odd hours. Call for appointment.

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