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Day Three

Retane looked down at the water, hunting for his reflection. There was none, as the water was in constant motion. The breeze was cool across his skin as the salty moiture in the air caressed his flesh and stung at his wounds. The Emerald Fiend accepted the bitter sweet pain with a dark and sinister grin. He had been weak. This was the cause for all the damage his had suffered thus far. He glanced back at his comrade who was just watching him. Jack also had his war wounds.

The Emerald Warrior stood up then using the pole-ax to help him get up. Coagulated blood glistened off the blade of his ever physical weapon. The namekian paused as he observed it for a few moments. It was sharp, deadly. It was meant to take the lives of others; Either with a clean cut, or a more ruthless backslash that would tear at flesh, biting through the vital organs of their foe. Or feeling both sides of the weapon, just like Gin and Pepsiman. Pepsiman got away, but he wouldn't be able to survive for long. Only a fool wold leave their chest or back open to the Emerald Fiend of all people. He'd always go for the heart if he could. It was more personal.

The namekian took in a long deep breath. As he tasted the air. It no longer tasted like caramelized beverage. Instead, it tasted like salt and stale blood.

Feed us more! We desire more! The namek recognized the call in his head. Again the Abyss wanted more. It always wanted more.

"What the fuck would you like for me to do about it?" Retane spoke out in an angry tone, calling into the cool dark air. It smelled of rain, but the voices in his head were louder and kept his attention.

Kill your friend. Kill Jack. Kill him before he kills you... The voice in his head was like a smooth whisper, almost promising that it would be ok.

The namekian, however, let out a long low snarl as his lips curled up. Deep down, deep inside his soul, he felt his soul trying to fight at the calls fro the Abyss. He felt the pressure of the orgosynth as it dug deeper into his flesh; The nerves digging trying to latch onto his own nervous system and take control. He was struggling with himself so bad, that he was losing it. He was becoming unstable and he knew it, though he would never admit it. He did find comfort in the gift that Tapion had brought him. The Mohekian had returned a a part of the namekian's soul, and while it was only a part, it was a start. This part had memories and even far greater instincts and expereince. It actually helped protect and shield the Emerald Warrior from the darkness.

It also had the darkness; The desire to hunt out prey and kill. The consciousness to decide who was worthy and who was not. It had that darkness that the God of Death had once been famous for back in the day. Lone itself struggled with things, but deep down there were principals. Many were ment to be broken. But the namekian could never do it. Not break them. Though, he felt he had already broken many. He looked within himself and saw the eyes of Lone. They were understanding, and showed sorrow. He felt it bay at the moon and knew that even Lone was struggling.

"About what?" Jack looked at him curious. The icer had seemed accosted and offended actually, not sure what was going on.

The Emerald Warrior realized he had spoke out loud, and took a deep breath as he looked at his busted ally. 'That's my friend', Jack had yelled as he tried to help Retane. Jack Frost had been there. He had even proclaimed that he had been sent there to protect the namekian, at the Guardian's own guessing. The Icer had proved himself worthy and still had more worth to show. No. He wouldn't kill Jack, nor would Jack kill him. The namekian would not see a repeat of things that had happened in the past. Not this time.

The Emerald Warrior should his head and with a free arm, reached back, wrapping his fingers tightly around the squishy symbiote. The orgosynth tried to hold on, but the namekian wasn't gong to have it. With a strong tug, the small red tentacles released their grip from beneath the namek's green flesh. The namekian didn't need to look back to fell his violet life force seep through the many small opening where the orgosynth had penetrated him. " It's time for you to try this on for size."


History always has a way of repeating itself and destiny could not be avoided.

The Emerald Warrior looked down at the orgosynth in his hands. He had just removed it from the lifeless corpse of his 'fallen' comrade. The ice wielder was actually prone still, being held up by the angled pole-ax that had skewered his chest. The orgosynth seemed ugly to the namekian now. It's short tentacles squirmed slowly, pulsating almost as if it were happy with what it had done. The namekian let out a low growl as he slowly started to squeeze the red veiny blob , his sharp red nails slowly seeping into the flesh of the orgosynth. The thing screeched in pain, it's tentacles begoing nearly unrecognizable as it recoiled.

The Emerald Fiend's lip curled in anger. This lab experiment thought it was demonic. There was only one true demon in the room right then at that moment, and it was a demon from planet namek, Retane the Exiled. The Malefactor cried out louder as the nails tasted the gooey black substance that came from the small life form. The mercenary let out a long sigh and released it's grip and quietly placed it back to it's original spot. "I'd kill you right here and now if I didn't have any use for you. But Jack's blood will not be the last person's blood you spill on this island.

[i]You spilt it. You could have died,. It could have been your blood. You chose to defend yourself. You were strong enough for the both of you as you really thought. You knew what I was capable of when you handed me to him.[i/] It wasn't the orgosynth that spoke to him, however it was his own subconsciousness eating at him, laying the guilt and blame on the true person responsible for his friend's death, himself. Again the namekian let out another growl. As angry as he was, he was still numb, trying to come to the realization of what had happened.

The Emerald Warrior finally wrapped his arm around the chest and shoulders of his comrade in a something similar to a one armed hug good bye and straightened the body, using his own strength to keep him up. With his free hand and a a hard thrust, the rogue shoved the glaive through, deep enough to grasp it from the back side, and pulled the weapon through. This was more respectful then knock Jack Frost to his back and just yanking the nasty blade from the lifeless corpse. He didn't want to ruin the Guardian's body any more then he had to.

The warrior dropped the glaive and lowered his friend to the ground, placing the ice wielder's hands over the wound. The dark warrior looked at the skin on the face of the fallen Horsemen. It was turning to a pale blue color then and what life was left, had been flushed away. The Emerald Warrior closed his eyes for a moment and let out a low sigh. His hands felt warm and the warmth spread further. The namekian didn't have to look to know what was going on. When it was done, he opened his eyes to see Jack wearing the same Horsemen cloak that represented the Guardian of the Horseman, he had been wearing when he stepped into the barracks. This one was flesh and clean and covered most of his face. The icer would have appreciated it.

Retane stood up then and looked over to the decimated elvish creature and the wicked weapon they had faced, for yet a second time in this event. The warrior glanced back at Jack and again let out a long sigh as he went and picked the hand-held cannon up. It had four missiles ready to fire at a moments notice. The Emerlad Warrior held it for a moment, then gripped at its strap and walked back over to his resting comrade. "You saved us from this thing twice my friend. You killed and earned it. This trophy is yours."

The namek took a slow breath as he lowered the rocket launcher down towards the corpse of his fallen friend.. He let the strap drop and looked down towards the glaive. The weapon was unbiased. It cared not for who it dug it's sharp teeth into, only as long as it did what it was meant to do. The Emerald Fiend nearly felt jaded as he took a long hard look at the pole-arm. It still looked as deadly ever, but now it was caked with his Jack Frost's blood, even the handle.

However, it too had a job to do; If it would take the life of such innocence, then it would be cursed to spill even more blood. He didn't care who it belonged to.

The Emerald Fiend bent down and picked the glaive up. It felt different. It was more violent, more angry then ever. Maybe it was just in his head, but the namekian had to feel that the pole-ax agreed with him and caught sight of a white ball with a red hand print on it and a smiling face in it's palm. "What the fuck are you looking at", The green skinned warrior demanded.

A few moments later of no response, the namekian let out a growl, his numbness giving way to anger just enough to bring his blade down and stab the ball in it's face. The air escaped with a 'woosh' and the warrior raised his arm, watching the deflated peice of material hang onto the sharp object. "Get off", The mercenary growled as he flung the blade upward, freeing it from the punctured ball. The warrior felt a little less tension as he watched the ball lose itself from his blade but felt it grow higher as he watched it land next to the cell phone.

It was Jack's starting item. it was white with a touch screen. Retane had suggested Jack just smash it into someones face, or shove it down their throats if they happened to talk to much and shout, "can you hear me now", back when Frost had showed him. The Guardian had laughed knowing he was making a small joke about Arith and the telepathic link they had shared back in the Tangled Greens. The Emerald Warrior remembered how Jack had been so trusting to the ninja, more courageous then the namek had been. He was distrusting.He had been the scared one at that moment.

A tear welled up and fell from his good eye, as he muttered, "You never were a sidekick. You were my friend..."

The Emerald Fiend paused as the tear hit the ground as there was a flash on the phone. The namek stared at it and watched it flash a few moments later, always flashing at a slow interval. Retane pressed the screen and saw that their was a scheduled 'Video Chat Reminder' on the phone. He followed the instructions and pressed the button. He almost dropped it as he heard the deadman's voice, and saw Jack Frost, unscathed but in a spot they had once been.

"Hey my friend. " Jack seemed solemn and sad. " If you are watching this, then it means I have died, and you got lucky to recover this. I know you are most likely feeling pain deep inside and don't want to admit it, but it's ok. It wasn't your fault. My job was to guard you. If I die here, which is a given that I have, I will be ok with it.

"You don't fear death, nor should I. So I'm not going to. I'm going into this thing hoping to help make a name for yourself and even my own. Not everyone can be as good as you, but as a member of The Horsemen, I hope to make a statement, to impress you and others. I don't want to seem like just a sidekick or anything. I have got to be more useful then that. i just have to."

There was a breif pause as the Guardian looked behind him and took a long deep breath before looking back, "I am scared you know. You are always so confident. So strong. You act as if nothing really scares you. This really isn't my thing, obviously. But to be accepted by you, means I have to get use to it. I've never killed anyone before. I have went toe to toe with the Boogeyman, Pitch Black, but never killed. I'm not sure I know how. I don't even have Savior here to even protect you, but I feel that I can still hep you..."

The Guardian looked away and a whimper came from his lips. When the icer looked back tears had welled up in his eyes. "I just realized that you will be watching this as I have died. I hope it was saving you or a death fit for a Horsemen. I've died before you know, saving my sister. I just hope I don't lose my memories like last time. That has to be my biggest fear."

The picture showed Jack wiping at his eyes, "I feel your pain my friend. I remember not knowing. I can sympathize. It makes you question yourself. But you once told me that you trust your instincts. Trust them now, and fight. Make sure I didn't die for no reason. I really hope I proved myself before I died and really made you proud."

The screen went blank for a moment. The mercenary looked back at his friend and felt another tear swell up in his own eye, but looked back at the phone as Jack showed back up on it, "Do your best in this thing, I know it means a lot to you. You may even be hurting for me, but don't worry about me. I'll be waiting for you at the end of this. Just give them hell. Bring hell to the Abyss and remind them that the Horsemen have come.... I'll meet you at the End... I promise..."

The screen flickered and the Emerald Warrior watched as Jack's teared face, faded from view as the battery died. Retane's second tear finally fell as he stared at the blank screen. He slid the dead phone in his pocket and looked down at the body that was once Jack Frost. He bent down, sadness and anger still trying to take over the numbness within, and grabbed the rocket launcher and flung it on his back. It clanged with even another heavy object that he now carried, and the sound of metal on metal reverberated throughout what was left of the clinic.

"Well, Jack, we made it to the clinic like you wanted. I'm sorry you died here. It was my mistake. I didn't think it was possible for a single use to do that to you. I should have known better, but you are a Prime; A Horsemen. I thought it would have been ok. Perhaps it's use to me and just ate at your innocence. It is my fault you are dead. I can't change that. But, I can remind the Abyss that Jack was here. And I will do that in your honor. So I have to use your trophy. I don't think you would mind...." The namekian paused for a moment and gave a grin remembering a joke from before.

The demon from namek raised his hand up to his face. It was in pain, but was numb to the touch. The dark fiend placed his right hand near his useless eye and laughed for a few seconds before he jabbed his fingers deep within and snatched the non-seeing oval out of it's socket and tossed it to the corpse of his comrade, "A trophy for a trophy. Now you can really play 'Eye Spy'."


The namekian looked back at the clinic before he left. He thought about blowing the place up but shook his head and walked away. If someone arrived they would look at Jack in his cloak and they would know. They would know that The Horsemen had come.
[Image: hchh.png]

I refuse to lose this battle,
Let whatever come my way.
I am stronger then my rival,
No, I will not fall today...

He hadn't stopped to mourn the loss of his friend. He hadn't really stopped to think about what had went through Jack's head as it all had transpired. The warrior just kept walking. Looking around, hoping to keep a promise. But a lot of his pain was settling in as his adrenaline was fading, and the namek was glad for it. He blamed himself for Jack's death. The Leader of the Horsemen knew his comrade was getting ancy, and thought it would lift his spirits to let him have a test run with it. He didn't know it would grasp ahold of him so quickly. The thing must have been feeding off so much of the namek's own negative energy that perhaps it was fate.

Retane felt guilt, but still wouldn't let the thing go. It made him even feel guiltier. He carried the glaive, the item that had pierced the Guardian's abdomen and took his life. Everything the namek had done had lead up to that moment. That moment where he had killed Jack Frost.

The warrior didn't even get to ask the ice wielder how it had felt to take his first life. The look in his eyes showed that he had become something much darker even before he had done so. Now Retane had to wonder where his friend was and how he was feeling. It was the Emerald Warrior's fault that Frost wasn't as innocent as he once was. It would be the namek's fault if Jack never smiled that nervous mile. It would be his fault if Jack never played a joke on Arith again.

It would be his fault.

The crimson item hidden and strapped to his back seemed to glow warm. The warrior pulled it out and looked at it. Retane felt guilty for his comrades death and all the pain he had felt and would soon be feeling, and this thing would be the answer for it all. Retane would accept the pain and agony of it soon. He would do it because maybe i would make him forget. Perhaps it was something he deserved. The namekian strapped it back to his shoulders and let out a sigh as he looked up wondering if Jack could hear him..

"It should have been me, my friend. I'm sorry that we couldn't be the last two. I'm sorry I, again, had to be the one to take an ally's... a comrade's... a fellow Horsemen's... A friend's life. You never were a sidekick. As I told you before, where you go, I go. And we will go standing side by side. Never shall you think of yourself as a sidekick again..." The namekian looked down as he finished aand closed his eyes. The namekian materialized a black cloak over himself. It was black with only a single snow flake on upon the left arm.
[Image: hchh.png]

I refuse to lose this battle,
Let whatever come my way.
I am stronger then my rival,
No, I will not fall today...

The green warrior stopped. His legs would go no further. They were not tired, nor were they over used. Still they would not move. It was as if they were made purely of concrete and cemented to the ground itself.

The rogue looked down, watching as his muscles would not answer his demands to move. With a low guttural growl, the namek threw his weight forward in an attempt to force a leg to take a step. Instead, the ground chose to come up and meet him. The Emerald Warrior brought his hands up just in time to stop his mangled face from meeting the cool wet grass.

"Is this what you have become? A pathetic excuse for a namek? A so called Horsemen? When did you start making empty promises? When did the Exiled just walk around not killing? When did the Reaper say he'd kill more people and not follow through with it? When did the God of Death stop having fight in him?"

Retane spoke the words out loud and they were directed back at himself. It was his own voice, but it was something deep within him, calling out to him. Challenging him. Mocking him.

"I remember when the tree's shook in horror as the Dark Hunter stalked his hunting grounds, preying on anyone stupid enough to get in his range of his senses. Now they beg at you. Beg for more blood to sate their thirst and you are unable to quench it. What happened? Are you scared? Did you get too weak? Did your heart break because you watched another friend die? Because it was your fault? Walking around like a zombie. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The namekian closed his eye tightly and dug his fingers deep within the soft soil beneath them, shaking his head as he tried to stop himself. "Shut up... Shut up.... SHUT UP!!!!!!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! You disrespect me, yourself, even that pathetic excuse for a Horsemen you call a friend. Any other time you would've laid waste to someone by now. You'd have let them feel the pain you felt. But look at you! On your knee's like a little bitch. You can't even gain control of your own body anymore. Get lower little bitch. Get lower and kiss my ass and taste the waste I have created over the many years of my existence."

The namekian felt a force pulling at him from within, attempting to shove his face into the dirt from just inches below. The Emerald Warrior pushed back with all his might, his veins bulging from his arms and forehead. The green warrior struggled within, as his body fought against him to bring him closer to the ground. He didn't understand it. He couldn't grasp it. But something within was fighting to force him to bow; To submit to it; Yo kiss the grass of Dante's Abyss.

The rogue let out a low growl, his muscles starting to ache, on the verge of cramping. The namekian's growl got a little louder, and even louder asuntil it formed a single word, "NNNNnnnnnnoooooooOOOOOOOO!!!"

His eye opened then. It was sharp and keen. His taste and smell were wide open and the inside force with him gave way just a little, just enough for the feral namek to push himself upright. His breath was heavy and many of his muscles were tight. He felt them all as they begged him not to move anymore and give him a chance to rest. "No", the namekian boomed.

He brought a single leg underneath him determined, "I bow for no one. Not even you."

"You bow for me! You always bow to me!" The namekian answered his own tone with an even harsher one.

"You are wrong Abyss! You bow to me! For I am the Abyss. I am the Abyss and then some!" The namekian pulled himself up to his feet.

"Hah! I am what made you who you were! Who you struggle to become once again!" The Emerald Warrior chuckled out loud.

"You are wrong! I made you what you have become! I am the very essence of darkness. I am what choice and consequence is all about. I am the true example of there being only one path to take. I am the acceptance of ones destiny. I am fear. I am the purest of prestige instincts. I am survival at it's finest. I AM inner struggle, and I am DEATH." The Emerald Feind snarled.

"You -" The rogue interrupted himself

"I am the Abyss itself. I am Hell in the Abyss. Now bend over and let me shove a rocket up your ass." The namekian jumped up in to the air, putting the rocket launcher onto his shoulder. As he reached the peak of his jump, he aimed it at the spot his inner Abyss had wanted him to kiss, and fired of a projectile. The kick sent him even higher and the renegade could only grin as he watched the impact and a burst of fire shoot up from the explosion.

Now it was time to find a target that bled.
[Image: hchh.png]

I refuse to lose this battle,
Let whatever come my way.
I am stronger then my rival,
No, I will not fall today...

Face to Face
#27 Deadpool vs #14 Mickey Mouse

The mouse seemed to be a thousand emotions at once—confused, angry, sad…

“Why’d you have to go and do that?” The merc-with-a-mouth joked, his tone conveying fake terror as the mouse continued to stare down at the broken, partially charred corpse of Delsin Rowe. “He was just tryin’ to murder-kill us, and you had to go and blast him with your death laser. I thought your parental controls prevented you from shamelessly and savagely murdering someone like this?!” Deadpool continued, overplaying his faux outrage as Mickey started to tremble with frustration and fear.

“I didn’t think… I thought he’d…”

“You didn’t think, did you?” Deadpool laughed as he clapped a hand on Mickey’s back. “Congratulations! I guess we can start calling this the Mickey Mouse MurderHouse now. That name’s probably more fitting given the fact that you’re now an official sociopathic killer.”

“Stop it, you’re not helping.” Mickey muttered. The mouse’s voice was weak and somewhat distant as he continued to look down at the young man’s corpse. Parts of Delsin’s body were still burning softly under the light of the rising sun.

“I mean, it’s not my fault you roasted him… speaking of roast,” with a grunt, Deadpool dropped into a squat next to Delsin and fished a rat corpse out of his bag. Whistling softly, the merc twirled the rodent a few times over the flames before chomping down into its midsection. Deadpool was going in for another delicious bite when he heard Mickey scream in fury. A beat later, the mouse jumped at the man, causing him to let out a laugh as he smacked against the ground.

The chuckling stopped when a fist slammed into Deadpool’s face. They continued to pepper the mercenary’s face as Mickey struggled to spit out his sentence. “You’re a… you’re a… you’re an ass!”

Deadpool let out a gasp and shot up, his hands shoving the mouse from him. “Now we got naughty words! What are you going to do next, Mickey… take up smoking? Think of all the children watching at home who just ran teary-eyed into their mother’s ample bosoms? Excuse me… titties. Ample titties.”

At that point, Mickey Mouse drew the Master Sword and glared up at the fully grown man chuckling down at him.

“That’s a mighty big sword you got there, Little Fellah.” Deadpool replied as he grabbed his shovel and started to toss it from hand to hand. “It’d be a shame if you tripped on it, you know? ‘Oh boy, that’d just be terrrribleeee’.” The mocking tone was enough to make the mouse charge the mercenary. With a clash of steel that sent sparks flickering through the air, their ‘blades’ met between them. “Golly gee, you’re tough for an anthropomorphic rodent,” Deadpool quipped as he shoved forward, throwing the mouse off balance.

Before Mickey could react, Deadpool cracked him in the side of the face with the shovel. When the mouse refused to go down, the mercenary swung again, and this time, the mouse crumpled into a heap on the gravel. “Oh, gee… it seems like you ran out of steam.” Hooking his foot underneath Mickey’s chest, Deadpool rolled the mouse over. As he did, a handful of dirt and rocks flew up at his face. Even as they splashed on his face, the man was already making the connection in his head. “Oh, dam—”

The Master Sword tore through Deadpool’s abdomen, causing the smart-mouthed merc to shut up for once.

“Language!” Mickey growled as tore the blade out and kicked the prime in the knee cap. Even as he fell forward, Deadpool lashed out with the shovel, which was all the proof the mouse needed to know that it was time to cut his loses. As Deadpool clutched at the very real—and very painful—wound in his gut, Mickey, a hand cradling his cranium, retreated from the park.

A strange friendship of opportunity had formed, been strengthened in battle, and gone horribly askew in the span of half an hour.

Such is the way of things in the Abyss.

Mickey Mouse has a mild concussion and some cranial bleeding – Minor Injury (+5 Damage)
Deadpool got stabbed through the gut – Minor Injury (+4 Damage)
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]


If there was a will, there was a freaking way. The stinging burns on Jak's body was hurting and he had killed yet another man in his wake. He stared down at where the wrestler's body was and shook his head, trying to force focus back into his eyes. Whoever that guy was with the white hair survived after everything..

He mentally cursed a string of words and hoped the Precursors were seeing him through the contest... "Delsin... Aero... Doc.. thanks...for everything.."

He swore he almost started to see things.

"You failed..Mar.."

Jak blinked "I don't fail..."

The blondish green man decided to fight on, as he held his head while trying to calm down his burns. He had to get out now....

He took the reddish-white device and hoped for the best... Delsin and Mcninja were probably watching somewhere... right?

This game was cruel... and got even crueler... Jak had started to become a stone-hard killer. His warm heart had started to harden and his willpower was stronger than ever. But would whatever willpower keep him moving?

Each death, meant more blood and Jak pounded the ground and gritted his teeth.


Jak kept going and managed to make it to a different place... He needed to get away from the crowd and fast... that boom had attracted unwanted attention and that was the last thing he had wanted.
[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' 

Blood trailing down his head, Gilgamesh limped away from the city his hand attempting to put pressure on the wound. A large ringing sound in his ear and the pain...was unbearable. The rising sun began to peek out of the ground and grinned at him. Almost as if it were glad that he was suffering. The King’s crimson blood flowed out of his head and ran into the sky, droplets seeming to form out of the clouds. The King’s eyes were bloodshot and he had to stifle a yawn. Even in times of pain and misery, he was still flesh and blood. The overwhelming desire to succumb to sleep had taken over and it had been a long two days full of planning, violence, and murder.

A branch struck Gilgamesh in the face as he was lost in thought. His face got a scratch and he turned livid with anger. He reached in his bag and fumbled around till he felt his weapon of choice. He drew out the Lancer and brandished it in the air, laughing maniacally as he proceeded to tear apart the branch and completely rip it apart from the tree. The ringing in his ear grew progressively louder and he cringed due to the unbearable noise. His penance for trusting those that were insufferable curs waiting to be destroyed.

Rustling. “Who is out there and how dare you sneak up on your King!” Gilgamesh turned swiftly to see nothing. A flash went by through his sight and his head jolted. Another one flew by and Gilgamesh panicked. He brought up his gun and began to shoot in any direction: above and below, left and right. The disappointing click of an empty clip was the only faint sound his good ear could hear. The trees were bullet ridden, bushes destroyed, and even the little flowers no longer had petals to decorate their stems. Everything around Gilgamesh crumbled to dust, just as his friends did. Gilgamesh fell to his knees and looked at the ground. What had this game done to him?

His head slowly rose back up as he saw two golden eyes glare at the King. Gilgamesh stumbled back onto his feet and pointed the gun at the literal rabid dog. It came out of the bush and slowly circled around Gilgamesh, joined by two other wolves. “Filthy animal.” A cruel smile came on his face as he clicked the trigger.

*click click click*

The wolves almost smirked as the proceeded to leap onto Gilgamesh but the King would not fall here. The chainsaw roared to life as he easily buried the whirling blade into one animal. It’s yelp of pain encouraged the others to pounce. One proceeded to leap onto the King’s back, clawing at the base of his neck as he let his blade release the animal carcass. He jabbed the gun into the animals face as it was about to bite down on the King’s neck and the other clawed at his legs. Blood spurted from the creature's face as Gilgamesh repositioned himself, his hand instantly in his bag desperately fumbling for munitions. A look of relief hit his face as the two animals repositioned themselves for another attack. He ejected the empty case and put the new one in.

“Go to hell you filthy mutts.” Two loud gunshots sang through the Forest. Gilgamesh kept his sidearm in his hands. He felt safe by just being next to it. It was reliable, it kept him sane. He entered a bush to try and get through this nasty part of the forest before a net launched around him and pinned him to the floor.

"Get this thing off of me, you MONGREL!"
[Image: GilgameshDAsig_zpsecqjfngm.png][Image: NB_BadgeRight.png][Image: RhzfCY6.gif] - Credit to Ezzy

As the sun sank behind the horizon and brought an end to the say, so too it seemed it would bring an end to Vincent Valentine. Following the blitz for the all-important Easter Egg, the warrior had been separated from his squad and isolated with just his duffel bag to comfort him. It was a strange bit of irony, he finding himself in much the conditions he had met when he started the whole ordeal on the island. It was an even stranger irony that he would face his likely downfall at the same hands that had crippled him in his first taste of Dante's Abyss combat.

Finding himself alone following the time-space warp created by the adorable-looking children's toy, the ex-Turk had not long to steady himself. Much of what was left of his attire had been singed away, along with much of the flesh on his pale chest. The burst of ice that had co-mingled with flame in the demon child's attack during the skirmish had served to numb what was left of the nerve endings on his chest and upper arms, though the frost bite it had inflicted could not be seen as beneficial in any other way. As he regained his bearings and began to debride bits of charred/frozen, disintegrating flesh from his wounds, he could feel the sluggishness that came along with blood loss. The piece of ragged cloak that he swathed over himself could do little but absorb the blood. Perhaps this blood-loss could explain the state of mind he had been in when he chose to attack once more. As fate would have it, he had meet the accursed, hammer-toting, crimson-haired woman once more.

In his delirium he had dealt some damage, though he had once more been struck by the wrath of the lightning hammer. The gunslinger wondered how things could have been different had he risked himself early-on for a chance at reaching the illustrious weapon. Perhaps he could have been in a different position; but in the Abyss, death was a near certainty one way or another. He had been foolish to enter the contest in the first place, driven by the mad desire to reach Karl Jak and get information on leaving this universe. It was his foolishness that would lead to him dying on the island, a failure to those that he held dear.

The ex-Turk lay supine in the darkness, seeking shelter beneath the enormous trees that comprised the forest. His ravaged body burned with agony from his multiple injuries. It was just past midnight is his senses could still be trusted, though the blow he had taken to his head may have confounded him more than he realized. Valentine could hear the blood pulsing in his ears as his body pooled the life-giving liquid at the sight of the contusion in an attempt to stave off further swelling or destruction of tissue. This, though, would not matter much in the long run. The lightning strike had hit him quite close to where he had been hit the day before, and though his senses did not fail him as they had in the past, he could feel his heart beginning to skip. The short bursts of fibrillation had already begun to come closer together, his heartbeat becoming increasingly irregular. It did not matter what he did, the organ would likely stop altogether soon enough.

His story had come to an end. Separated from those he loved, now known only as a line in an obituary. Nanaki would wait for the Prime back in Coruscant, though never see him again. He would never see his friends again, never be able to protect them from the ills that haunted Gaia. Years ago, Vincent would have killed to be met with death. Immortality was a cruel gift for someone shouldering the sins he did. Now though, he wished he could perhaps have just a bit more time.


Vincent's eyes sprang open. His crimson irises had dulled, though he could still feel the smallest amount of life puttering through his veins. Every inch of him wanted to succumb to the darkness, to finally be at peace in death. Despite this, something inside his head spurred him to get to his feet. The little voice that had before only suggested he continue was now screaming, pleading for him to go on. He could not put a finger on from where this urge was coming, but he felt compelled to heed it.

Scrambling uneasily to his feet, the Prime staggered into the darkness.
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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.

Jak found himself on the run, again... for what seemed like a long time in this freaking contest... 3 long days and the sun was coming up among the horizon. A dawn to a new day.

He squeezed his fists, and found he had more blood on his hands then before but some voice in the back of his mind kept telling him not to fall asleep.



Keep your eyes open...

This isn't over yet, Jak..

... Not by a longshot..

Jak's hair was dripping with sweat and his blue eyes were cold and sad.

Karl had announced his name and he was on the run again...

"Some hero... running from death..."

"Shut up... There's more to what i do..."


The wasteland warrior was ashamed to look at himself, Damas would not approve of what he had done to the others. He squeezed the Seal of Mar, the only thing he had to keep his mind from drifting off again.
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[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' 

Night had fallen upon Karl Jak’s island of death, a clouded sky making Ganondorf’s trek through the forest all the more treacherous. The Demon Lord scowled as he peered into the darkness around him, eyes squinted in an attempt to make out his surroundings. Though he moved slowly and deliberately, he still was struck repeatedly by tree branches, and tripped by jutting roots. Yet, he soldiered on, even when the branches would snag his broken arm and send a fresh bolt of pain through his agonized body.

With his sight diminished, the Gerudo’s other senses had begun to heighten, to horrifying proportions. The great King could hear as his bones scraped along his armor. He could smell the coppery scent of blood, the musty smell of powdered bone, and the sickly sweet of infection. Every bruise and scrape on his body was felt anew as his mind attempted to compensate for Ganondorf’s lack of sight. Worse still, the darkness was setting a fatigue into his bones; an exhaustion that the King of Evil had been able to keep at bay mostly through the extraordinary pain he was under. He hadn’t slept since reviving at the Nexus, partly because he hadn’t trusted Link to let him live through a night asleep, and the sleep debt was beginning to take its toll. The Gerudo’s feet were beginning to drag through the brush and forest debris, staggering even when no root had caught his foot. He pulled himself along with his good arm, moving from tree to tree like a dead man walking. Probably because he was.

Eventually, one of those stumbled turned into an actual fall and the great Gerudo King landed amidst the leaves and detritus with a soft thump. He found he didn’t have the energy to rise again, despite his struggles, and Ganondorf eventually gave up trying. His arm, blazing with agony before, had dulled… numbed, and he truly and sincerely smiled. For the first time since he’d come to this competition, the Demon Lord was at peace. Perhaps he would make it through the night, he pondered, his eyes sliding closed against his will. Perhaps someone will come across me and think me dead already. And perhaps they’ll be right.

Face to Face
#04 Retane vs #01 Android 18

Android 18 scowled as she stared across at the bloody Namekian.

Hadn’t they been here once before… all those years ago?

“You’re the last person I expected to see here,” the android spoke as squeezed her hand around the handle of the crossbow. The Jade Fiend was wounded, but as the organism latched onto his back started to flood his blood vessels with power, he felt something close to life returning to his veins.

“Heh,” Retane snickered as he hoisted the launcher up onto his shoulder. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he snarled as memories of the woman and her long-haired boyfriend beating his face in flooded to the surface. “No one here to save you this time.”

The rocket tore through the air and crashed into the ground near the android as she jumped free of the blast. As she fell sideways, she pulled back on the trigger and loosed a bolt. Retane snarled as he dove to the right and tried to line up another shot. Eighteen was quicker on her feet and moved to close the distance between the pair. She swung the butt off her weapon down at the grounded namekian, who rolled out of the way and swept her legs out from under her with the rocket launcher. Before she could retaliate, he brought it down onto her face, breaking her nose causing her to spit blood from her nose and mouth.

As he rose to his feet, Retane smashed his boot into the side of her head before turning to retrieve his glaive. When he turned around, the woman was upright and frowning through the blood that now caked her face. “This was always my game, bitch,” she groaned as she pulled the trigger. The bolt sank tore through the top of the namekian’s shoulder knocked him off balance as his opponent lurched to safety.

By the time the rocket was in the air, Android 18 was already gone, leaving a frustrated Retane.
Android 18’s face has been bashed in – Major Injury (+8 Damage)
Retane has a cut on his shoulder – Minor Injury (+1 Damage)

Malefactor rolled ‘11’

Retane used Tier 1.5 Transformation Malefactor (-1 SP)
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Face to Face
#27 Deadpool vs #25 Jak Mar

Jak Mar stumbled away from the scene of his most recent fight. With any luck, he could find someplace safe to relax and tend to his injuries. Unfortunately for the thus-far surviving prime, his path of escape happened to cross with that of Deadpool, who was clutching his side with one hand and a shovel in the other. The costumed man didn’t look to tough, but Jak knew how this situation always played out, so without a chance to exchange banter, he hurtled the Pokeball at the ground in front of Deadpool.

“Is that a…” Deadpool managed before the flash of light faded into a three-headed ostrich. “This morning keeps getting better,” the mercenary muttered as the bird rushed him and lashed out with its heads. A well-placed shovel-blow deflected one of the screaming beaks, but the other two chomped down on his shoulder and opposing arm, causing the prime to grind his teeth together as he lashed out with the shovel. When the beaks loosened up, Deadpool grabbed the middle neck and managed to pry it far enough away that he could knock it down to the ground with a shoulder block.

Jumping over the trio of snapping beaks, Deadpool rushed at Jak Mar, who threw up his fists. The first shovel blow missed its mark, and Jak managed to land a punch to the mercenary’s face. Before he could launch a follow-up attack, the Pokémon-wielding prime was struck in the side of the head with a glancing blow that nevertheless tore through his scalp.

Deadpool swung back and brought the hacking end of the weapon onto the back of Jak Mar’s skull, spraying blood and brain matter out on the ground. When the other prime made a few gurgling noises that could have passed as being alive, Deadpool drove the weapon down into his opponent’s partially exposed brain.

#25 Jak Mar DEAD

20 Primes Remain

Jak Mar rolled a ‘3’

Deadpool has a pair of beak wounds (right shoulder & left arm) – Minor Injury (+4 Damage)

Deadpool gets the Pokeball (the Dodrio returns to the ball)
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He had to make a split second decision.

Tangled up in the jungle gym, his body went rigid when Delsin managed to catch the shovel. He didn’t know why, but something within him screamed to save Deadpool, and so without knowing exactly what he was doing, he placed his gloved hands out in front of him and squeezed his eyes shut. A massive beam of yellow energy burst forth from thin air, smashing into Delsin Rowe and effectively rescuing the merc-with-a-mouth from another attack. When the bright light from Mickey’s blast cleared, the mouse’s new ally stood perfectly fine, and the young man who had just happened upon them lay crumpled on the ground.

Mickey let out a sigh of relief—whatever had just happened, it had saved Deadpool’s life. He would focus later on how in the world he had been able to conjure such a powerful blast of energy; for right now, while Delsin was down, they had to move. The mouse scampered over to Deadpool, tugging at the sleeve of his spandex outfit. “Hurry, while he’s unconscious.”

Deadpool chuckled, and said the words that Mickey had been fearing someone would say to him this whole game. The mouse’s eyes went wide with horror. No. No, no, no, no, no—he couldn’t be dead. He fell to his knees next to Delsin, placing his stubby mouse fingers on the man’s neck to try to feel a pulse. “Come on,” he whispered under his breath, “come on, no, stop it, be alive, please—”

Nothing. He felt nothing.

* * *

He ran.

He ran as fast as his stubby little legs could take him, but he could not escape that feeling. He could not escape the anger that ran through his brain when he had run Deadpool through with the Master Sword, watching blood seep out of the wound. He had been so terribly furious, so blinded by the rage that Deadpool had awakened inside of him.

For so long, he had lived in his peaceful kingdom, not bothered by anything. He had tried to stay true to himself for so long in this game, and for a while, he had succeeded. Skirting around the edge of the island with his pals, avoiding conflict, and even for a split second having fun. When he had first been dropped in this Omniverse, he had thought that happiness would be something he would have to search long and hard for. He had been wrong: he had found it in just a few days, in the comfort of Erza, Samus, and Harry.

But it was fickle.

His head started to spin as the adrenaline from his encounter with the merc-with-a-mouth began to wear off. All of a sudden, he slid to a halt, his head pounding more painfully than he had ever thought possible. He touched it gently with a gloved hand, caught off guard by the intense throbbing. “Owwwwww,” he groaned, gripping his skull now with both hands as he dropped the Master Sword to the ground.

He took several deep breaths, leaning against the nearest tree and sliding into a seated position at its base. He glanced over to where the Master Sword lay, hoping to be prepared to pick it up at the slightest disturbance, but his vision had started to blur up so much that he could barely even see it anymore.

Did he really want to pick it up again, though? His instinct said no. If anyone came across him now, he had half a mind to let them lay into him with whatever weapon this murder game had provided them with and put him out of his misery. Karl Jak had truly broken him—he’d pushed him to his limits, and instead of rising to the challenge, the man they fought had ended up dead. The mysterious energy—which he still could not altogether explain—had risen up inside of him, and he had been presented with a choice: use it, and definitely save Deadpool from getting injured any more, or jump back into the fray and save him the old fashioned way, which hadn’t yet worked out in his favor. So he had given in, and the merc-with-a-mouth survived that face-off without another scrape.

He regretted it; in retrospect, he would have much rather Deadpool be dead than Delsin.

He threw up. He leaned forward, and in the grassy patch in front of where he sat, he puked up his pain. When that subsided, he coughed incessantly, trying his best to make sure he had gotten everything up. A burning sensation slithered through his cranium, and Mickey felt like this injury was eating him up from the inside. Between that and his crippling guilt, the mouse knew that nothing would make him happier than remaining up against this tree, withering up, and wasting away until someone eliminated him from this competition.

But he wasn’t the giving-up type of mouse. He’d been through way too much to stop now.

So he got up.
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Harry stopped and regarded the little girl again. Hearing threats like that coming from someone who looked so tiny and hurt was absolutely disconcerting. "Slow down there. Focus on staying alive first." The wizard looked around and led the pair to a particularly dense stand of trees. They'd provide a bit of cover for him and Desco, maybe keep a random passerby from spotting them straight away. Another part of her sentence was making him worry a bit, too. "Desco, what did you mean, demons? I didn't think there were demons on the island, too." If that was the case, if literal demons were involved... Harry might have some work to do. Then again, the dragons in the Omniverse were underpowered compared to the dragons from back home... maybe demons would be similarly easier to handle. Karl Jak's voice echoing through the trees forestalled their conversation for a moment. He shut his eyes for a moment to try and rest, contemplating what kind of a name "McNinja" even was.
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Samus had barely had a chance to look at the burned-up little girl before she was gone. At least, she’d looked like a child — something about her had suggested an intelligence beyond her year. Regardless, the bounty hunter was glad she was out of danger now.

Which left them as a trio. Samus was a lot more comfortable with Erza around. And it seemed that she knew this Gildarts. Good thing I didn’t pump him full of hot flak when I had the chance, thought the bounty hunter. He’d proven useful besides.

What wasn’t comfortable was losing her helmet. In its bashed-up state, she’d elected to forgo it completely. Now the whole world knew what she looked like. Not a great concern considering the Empire probably already knew her bust measurements, but still something that made her cringe. She preferred to keep an air of anonymity. Now that she was famous, everything would be different. Perhaps a disguise would be in order once she returned to the main world.

One thing gave her a small amount of satisfaction — the fact that Cindy was dead. With the prize of her betrayal now in some other Prime’s hands, what reason did Samus have left to stay in this disgusting verse? Not much. She knew that there was little chance of saving Harry now. Even Mickey might already be dead. Besides, this whole competition only allowed one person to escape. So why was she here now?

The truth was that she was foolish. No matter how old she grew, somewhere inside she would still always be the little girl who defied her superiors and spat up at the face of bullies. She would find Harry, and Mickey, and then … she didn’t know. But she wouldn’t let Jak have his way. If she had hers, there would be a bullet and a banishment circle waiting for him outside of this competition. Criminals like Jak belonged in the Underverse. That was all there was to it. What he was doing might be legal, technically, but there were times when legality had to be defied. The only law was what was right. If she’d been taken into the competition against her will, she was sure that was only the beginning of his crimes. There must have been others who were coerced … tricked. It wasn’t right. That couldn’t be the way things were done in the Omniverse. She wouldn’t let it be.

She looked up and hoped Jak was watching.
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Weathering the pragmatic 'tempest' that is Dante's Abyss, Luffy trekked along the beaten path. Resounding volleys of gunfire, percussing explosions and speckled shrieks ruptured through the whispering gale of an otherwise tranquil breeze. Putrid scents of kindled timber and searing flesh inundated the soothing wafts of eloquent flowers, smothering their grace beneath rotten stench.

Krrip, Krrip.

Leisurely peeling away the translucent wings of captured butterflies, Straw Hat hummed demented melodies to himself as he savored their helplessness. Mutilated and marred, the collective of majestic insects rolled from his palm as he tilted it ever slightly, following the motion with his head. After dribbling to the ground motionless, the pirate hammered a fist down, mushing them to fleshy shrapnel as emerald innards went 'splat' all over the base of his hand.

"Gehehehegeh," the bedeviled lunatic squawked maniacally like an infant burning ants with a magnifying glass. Darkrai felt no greater pleasure than forcing his 'tools' to perform vile deeds.

Losing interest in bug-bashing, the captain grabbed for the firearm to his aft and arose to his feet. With a gurgling tummy, he realized this human shell required sustenance, likely more than your average homo-sapien. After all, for the time he possessed the boy, he was forced to sate such pestering cravings, else his hold would deteriorate along with the body.

Settling betwixt a rampart of brush, Luffy fastened the rifle's butt against his shoulder. Grasping its forestock with his free hand, the youth winced as jolting pain shot up through his arm. After the climactic skirmish, the boy's stab wound was since cauterized to avoid bloodloss, however the injury remained a lingering hindrance. Shaking the discomfort away, Straw Hat peered down the lengthy barrel and affixed his eyes through the scope.


A rustle in the distance spooked his attention, soliciting the captain to pivot his vision slightly to the right. Emerging from the cover of tree branches and shrubbery, a fuzzy bear cub mozied on out to sniff at the air. The poor tyke hadn't an inkling that those last few breathes would be its last. Curling his chops into a malicious grin, Luffy tensed his body before gently tugging at the hair-trigger.


The cursed captain's eyes pulsed as a vicious roar bellowed from his flank. His heart skipped a beat as he rashly shifted, tearing his focus from the furry tot and pausing with rattled gaze upon a towering grizzly. As the mammoth beast ascended to her hind legs for intimidating tact, Luffy instinctively swiveled the gun shaft posthaste.


Straw Hat managed to pull off a shot, though a blink too late. Protecting her pup, the ravenous momma bear swiped with a razor-tipped paw, clipping the youth along his midriff as he hurtled into a thicket of thorny weeds. His boomstick clanked against the ground several yards away, leaving him diddly but fisticuffs to defend himself.

Charging full steam ahead, the boorish mammalian gaped her cavernous maw, displaying a column of dagger-length fangs. In that instance, Darkrai educed the raw physical efficacy his borrowed vessel garnered, recalling his ferocity during the prior event's warfare. Just as the berserk quadruped was moments from taking a chunk out of the pirate, Luffy cracked her in the jaw with his good arm, launching her skyward like a sack of potatoes.


Springing up from the turf to match the beast's elevation in kind, the steadfast captain heaved a reinforced roundhouse into the mother's chest cavity, effectively caving it under pressure. Thereafter, she ricocheted against a burly trunk and slammed into the terrain with a tremorous thud, carving a depression in the soil as splinters of bark sprinkled atop her breathless carcass.

Landing with shoddy balance, mugiwara yanked his rifle from a bushel of entangling vines as the precious cub pranced over and nudged its lifeless parent. Whimpering in heartache, the furry offspring licked her bloodied wounds and cried out in sorrow for its fallen mommy. The toddler was alone, afraid and aghast. Chuckling maniacally, Luffy traced his lips with a voracious tongue, stretching a delighted grin as he positioned the family 'banquet' within his crosshairs.

"Entree and appetizer coming right up!"

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Desco was still in pain from the burns but with Harry distracting her from thinking about it and the treatment he gave her Desco was feeling okay at the moment. As long as nothing touched her burns she would be able to do as she pleased. "You don't think they were Demons? But Desco is a Demon!" Desco was a little confused, she assumed most people were demons. Many demons couldn't be told apart from humans by appearance or might only have one demonic features such as large pointed ears like Desco had.

Then it came, Karl's announcement of the last 6 hours and who had died on the island. She didn't pay attention to most of them. Pepsiman and Dr. Mcninja both souded like really cool names but Desco didn't know who they were. But then he mentioned Guu. Desco had just been adventuring with Guu on this island. They were bestest friends now, Desco loved Guu. She was the first real friend she made in the Omniverse. When Desco was feeling down and out, Nyeseth came to her rescue and Guu came along too. "Guu...?" Desco's voice wavered a little as she took in that Guu had been killed by someone. Tears came to her eyes that hurt more than her burns, and she grabbed Harry's pants and buried her face into it sobbing away. "Desco just left Guu! How did someone kill her? It's Desco's fault for not being there..." She continued to cry away on Harry who put an awkward hand over the little demon girl. She said she was a demon, and if she was Desco wasn't like any demon Harry had faced on Earth.

"There there... it's okay." This was the kind of thing Karl wanted, death and despair of the contestants."Remember that we are all primes, we just come back..." Desco continued to sob for a while, but slowed to a stop. "But its all Desco's fault, she left Guu..." "Everyone was teleported around the island, it could have been anyone that did it." Desco sniffed a little and looked up into Harry's face. "You said you'd be my minion right? Will you help Desco kill the people that hurt Guu?"

The explosion shook the entire mountain and rattled me to the core. The subsequent shockwave was enough to send me tumbling down the side of the mountain. Instinctively my legs stretched out and tried to slow my descent, but one of them was caught by a tree root. The root twisted my ankle and sent me onto my ass. For a moment I could only hear the ringing in my ears from the explosion. Dirt clods pelted my chest and face as debris rained down the mountainside my whole body was numb and unresponsive. The weight of the abyss kept me numbed and pinned to the ground.

He’s dead. The Rock is dead. The Rock N’ Rock Connection is dead.

“No...” I sputtered and turned over onto my stomach. My senses were slowly coming back and I pushed myself onto my knees. “No! No! No!” I punched the dirt with every exclamation “no! No! No!” The cuts on my hand stung from the dirt, but I kept punching through the pain. It almost stunned me to realize it, but in the past day and a half I had come to think of that big goliath as a friend. A venemous and wicked thought snaked its way into my head everyone I care about dies or gets hurt because I’m too weak to save them. My fingers dug their way into the dirt and grasped a moist clump of earth. A familiar bubbling boiling rage burned in my chest. It was a coping mechanism of sorts. Without this rage, without this pain I would have no purpose and it was because of this that I raged against the world.

Impotently I yelled, I yelled for everything I had lost. I yelled not just for what I had lost in the Abyss, but for everyone that I was too weak to protect. “I’ll fucking kill you you bastard!” I bellowed my empty threat at the Rock’s murderer. I hoped that the entire island would hear me. My hand ripped up another chunk of earth and in a fit I threw it down the mountainside. I wanted to tear the island apart and swallow every piece. I wanted to take the abyss and cram it down my throat. This pain in my chest, this fucking hatred I was going to unleash it upon this forsaken island. Every tree would be uprooted and mashed to splinters, every animal would be gutted, and every player would be slaughtered; even if I had to do it with my bare hands.

My anger started to quiet itself and slowly I stood and put weight on my sprained ankle, the pain forced a wicked smile across my face. Purposefully I unclasped the champion belt around my waist and held it into the air. This wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. I dropped the belt and looked towards the sky and addressed my fallen friend.

“Don’t worry champ, I’ve got this.”

Every step hurt, every breath was pained, and every action sent bolts of hurt down my shattered arm. The pain gave me razor sharp focus, without this pain I would be nothing. Three days on this unforgiving rock had given me more than enough fuel for my anger. Today I was going to find someone and rip their goddamned heart out. My good hand gripped the 2x4 so hard that my nails cracked and the wood sent splinters into my flesh.

I continued my climb up the mountain, towards Blair Village. Still holding onto the cinders of rage I couldn’t stay for too long. A simple glance in every house was enough for me to move one. There was no time to rest. No, there was only time to hunt and to kill. There would be no more playing games and there would be no more losing.
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Face to Face
#30 Vincent Valentine

The ex-Turk struggled down the street, his blurred vision telling him that he had entered the small city on the island. For an island filled with people trying to kill one another, he was now amused that he could find no one willing to go the distance with him. If not for the pounding in his head and the pain that radiated all over his body, he would have found something bittersweet in all of this.

Fortunately for Vincent Valentine, none of the viewing audience wanted to see him lie down and die alone in an alley.

Chh chh chh… ahh ahh ahh

Although his hearing still wasn’t what it used to be following his first zap, Vincent knew he had heard something. Even more than that, he knew he hadn’t heard some random city noise… no, there had to be some deliberate behind whatever melody he swore he’d heard wafting across the wind. Turning around, the ex-Turk looked down the street and stared at what he knew would be his swansong. The man that stood half a block away was large and imposing, but his clothes were in worse shape than Vincent’s. An old hockey mask covered the man’s face, and the flesh of his bald head had a somewhat grotesque hue to it.

What mattered most to Vincent was the machete wielded by the other prime.

“Come on then,” the ex-Turk replied as he lifted a hand. “I’m ready,” he muttered as the air in front of his outstretched palm was filled with a mass of red energy beams. The concentration of beams tore through the air, ripping up concrete as they barreled down against their stationary target. Vincent winced slightly as the series of explosions light up the afternoon sky, causing him to turn away as a wave of heat washed over him. As his hand dropped to his side and the light faded away, the ex-Turk looked to see that ground zero of his attack lacked a corpse.

A gasp escaped Vincent as the machete slid through his back and out his chest. As the blade left his body, the gunslinger clutched a hand over the wound and turned to look the serial killer in the eye as a second machete stab found his heart.

#30 Vincent Valentine DEAD

19 Primes Remain
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

"Hello down there, my lovely little primes. Your following pals have left the island for reasons I'm certain you can figure out on your own...

#46 Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson
#42 Delsin Rowe
#25 Jak Mar
#30 Vincent Valentine

"This means that we're down to the final nineteen primes... Congratulations! Only eighteen more of you have to lose! The following are you danger zones that will activate in six hours...


"In six hours, I'll also be dropping another little parcel onto the island. This could be the final little present we drop, and it'll arrive at the diner.

"What will it be? Well that's that fun part... the people you've all killed will be deciding what they think you deserve to receive. Could it be a piece of junk or could it be a laser machine gun that shoots fists at peoples faces? I don't know, but I am sure looking forward to finding out.

"Until tonight, Lovelies."

Quote:You may submit two movements now. If you wish to partake in this Easter Egg Event, you just need to pm me. The prize is unknown."
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

”No Dr. McNinja to stitch you up, huh?!”the mercenary bantered with a cackle. As his shovel sliced through Jak’s scalp—with surgical precision!—he cocked the digging tool back once more. ”Sorry, but I need a weapon!”

Deadpool slammed the flat side of his shovel into the aspiring Pokèmon trainer’s temple, face-planting him into the sloped terrain of the forest. Brain matter and skull bits littered the dark soil of the ground, and squished under Deadpool’s post was he shuffled forward for the kill. First kill. Jak tried to plea as his blood flowed farther from his skull, but it came out in mostly gurgles and slurs. Deadpool raised the shovel above his head, and drove its pointed tip through Jak’s skull.

”I guess its safe to say . . . you will not be catchin’ them all. Pokèmon, that is. “ He grunted, and reached a hand to feel a chunk of flesh missing from his shoulder. ”Fuck, damn second-tier videogame mascot did more damage that I thought.”

But Deadpool was still alive. He had endured it all—the crafty Delsin, Mickey stabbing betraying him, now the wildcard green-haired elfin—and even gained a new item in the process. It lay next to Jak’s fresh corpse, right near between his knees. The mercenary plundered it.

Reciting the words he told Vincent, he kept moving onward.

* * * * *

Fucking mouse, that self-righteous prick. I bet no one would think he’s such a goldenboy if they read ‘Mickey Mouse and the boy called Thursday’.

The mercenary hobbled through the forest, using his shovel as a cane to keep upright while traveling. The past six hours had been far more chaotic than the preceding day, and his physique showed it—wounds from his face to his abdomen, and every limb in-between. God bless Karl’s collar, and its perpetual flow of energy. Without the collar, death’s knock would have echoed off Deadpool’s door long ago. But Death was on the way; the claps from her heels could be heard approaching the porch.

The same Death I used to have sexual relations with?


Yay! You talked to me! Should I expect this to be a more frequent occurrence?


Aw . .

It was around midday now, and as the sun elevated higher into the sky, humidity began to clot the air. Deadpool urged forward, but every step felt more and more like his last; his pecked arm could barely wield the shovel he used it to guide his feet. It was time to stop . . . just for a second. He lodged his shovel into the earth and dropped to his ass with a thump.

”Just need a drink,” Deadpool convinced himself. He pulled his bag from his side to his lap and unzipped it. ”Just some water . . .” Holding back wince, he sent his hand into the bag and clawed his remaining bottles of water out—one pure Aquafina and two Mark’s Special piss bottles. His cracked lips faintly curled into a smile. Son of a bitch.

Suddenly, Karl Jak’s voice boomed across the island. Deadpool never cared enough to listen to the prior announcements, but this one was different—he wanted to hear the names of those he witnessed die. The sounds of Jak’s name and Delsin’s name made his smile turn into a smirk; but the name Vincent Valentine brought the burning sensation of withheld tears to his face. Vincent was a loyal teammate. In his debilitated state he risked his health and life for Deadpool to acquire Furbypool.

The mercenary glanced back to his lap full of bottles. Without hesitation, and grabbed a yellow liquid one and untwisted the cap. ”For you, Pale Prime". He toasted the bottle to the sky and downed a hefty swig.

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

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

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