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Day Four

#1
"Rise and shine, sweethearts. We said farewell to these friends of ours over the course of the night.

#33 Jon Snow
#07 Blink
#20 Harry Dresden
#34 Erza Scarlet
#19 Ganondorf

"That was one bloody fight, and I'm certain one that people will be watching on the Dataverse for a while to come. But that was yesterday, and today is now... It's Day Four, and we're almost at the end of it. The following will be danger zones in six hours...

C9
C8
C7
H4
G4
F4

"Also, E5 is no longer a danger zone."

"You want out? Kill each other. Kill your enemies. Kill your friends. This only ends in blood.

"Talk to you all in a few hours."


Quote:You can move now -- up to 3 times. The game will conclude we were are somewhere between 8 and 6 primes... I'm not sure yet.
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

#2
Deadpool always wondered how much power Thor’s Hammer really held. Stories constantly circulated throughout the Marvel Universe about the weapon. Most legends consisted of its potent lightning bolt crashing down upon its enemy from above. It could take out entire rainforests, some said, whole towns! Unfortunately for the mercenary, the legends of Thor’s Hammer were all true. When the woman raised the hammer over Deadpool’s back, flashes of lightning warped the sky, and then everything else went black.

The mercenary lay long half-conscious, curled into a fetal position so neither his charred back nor front touched the cold surface of the sloped forest. Evening was coming to an end, and night had begun to close its curtains on the day; the sun took a bow under the mountain, waving his hands of dying red light.

”A-at least I got my payback,” Deadpool muttered; receiving a smackdown from the Mjonir registered as a small fine for the removal of Mickey’s paw. His eyes flickered open, and as he glanced down to his trembling fist, he snickered. ”How about a h-high-five, buddy?” In his fist he loosely held the mouse’s four-digit palm, glove and all. With a groan, he freed his pinned arm and clapped the glove. We did it!

It felt good to get Mickey back. Damn good. It was like losing your virginity—you just wanna brag about it, and gloat, if you were lucky enough to lose it before the rest of your friends. This competition had shown the mercenary that even a goldenboy Disney character could succumb to the evils of survival, and commit the worst of sins—betrayal. Too bad he isn’t dead, Deadpool thought. Too bad I didn’t kill him . . . yet. He licked his lips and spread a grin.

He just had to survive a little longer—just another day. Omnillium was rare to come across in abundance, and he needed every fucking decimal worth. Only it could give him the powers he needed to quell his illnesses. Hell, if things went in his favor, maybe winning was still feasible.

The mercenary looked up at his shovel—it stood in front of him, lodged in the ground. From the edge of its handle, the strap to his duffle bag was tied; it dangled halfway down the shaft of the weapon. I’ma get up, he told his body. All he needed to do was curl his fingers around the shovel’s handle, and use it to pry himself off the ground. Simple.

He stuck Mickey’s palm into his belt pocket, wrist first, and then went to push off of the ground. ”FUCK!” he cried. The whisk of air from moving felt like a thousand bee stings across his body. He wanted to giving up—it was a beautiful day to remain on the ground and die (Deadpool was sure the wildlife of Karl’s island would love an already cooked meal)—but couldn’t. He got around, onto his knees, and grabbed the shovel with his slashed arm, gripping his fingers around its handle. Another cry pierced through the forest, but ultimately he rose to his feet.



I think it’s time to go full-DP, trusty sidekick! It is time to unleash pure ridiculous upon this competition!



Leaning over his shovel, the stench of his sizzled outfit fumed up to his face. It had survived a lot—a Namekian, a murderous mouse, pokes from a Hydra-ostrich, and one of the most powerful Marvel weapons ever made—but it was time to ditch it. With a wince, he reached behind his head and ripped his mask off, exposing the tumorous horror that hid under it. (Fuck you, and your comments about my face!). If Deadpool died, he would die the same way he was born—naked—if for nothing else, just to scare the shit out of his enemies (maybe believe he was a zombie, coming to eat they brainz). He unzipped his spandex-like outfit and slid his arms out of its sleeves. As he wiggled his hips, his pants fell below his ass. Mickey’s hand would make a nice jock pad, he thought. He removed it from his belt and stuffed it down his slingshot, underpants (appropriatly logoed on the back with a picture of his own mask). It bulged inside his underoos like a rockstar’s stuffed crotch.



Mickey is always willing to give a helping hand!



Zzzzzzziippp! He opened his duffle bag. All that remained was one pure Aquafina, his Drone, a single MRE, his (new) lightsaber, and the Pokèball. No Furbypool. He sighed. The toy creature was the closest thing he had to a friend the entire competition. Furbypool was the only person who understood him. Accepted him. He had to win Dante’s Abyss now, just for Furbypool. In his distorted mind, that made perfect sense.

”I’ll always love ya, little buddy,” he said; the toy’s automated voice spoke to him, replying in kind—I Love You. ”Maybe I’ll make you into a move or something after DA, and keep you for good!”

He pulled out his last bottle of water and guzzled it down. MRE? He considered eating it, but knew he would need role-play fodder for later. But his compass was something he could use, so he retrieved it and gave it a close gander. Interesting, he thought. He stashed it back into his bag and zipped it shut.


Now it was time to go . . . ensure Furbypool’s death not be in vain.

He knew it would hurt, but after a sharp ache in his shoulder, he ripped his shovel from the earth, and used it to guide his shuffling steps forward.

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


PVP Combat Record
(One-on-One)
3W - 0L - 0D
(TAG-TEAM)
4W - 1L - 0D
[Image: Deadpool_Funny.png]

#3
A massive battle is not something you notice just from seeing it. It's that foul wind of death that blows in it's wake, the crackle of fires and screams of terror that drown out your senses and the smoke that chokes the life out of you. I could felt the uprooting of earth and heard buildings flattened, and the flapping of wings of great beasts. By the time I managed to make it up a tall enough tree, I saw the clearing next to that WAS once a restaurant, and was now the site of complete and total anarchy. The scope of my nailgun, of which was far out of the effective range to take pots shots with and made me wish I had taken the stretchy fucker's sniper rifle, let met get some better focus on the turmoil, but with only the moonlight filtered through sparse clouds could I see the shapes move the thick darkness. The occasional illumination of fire and flash of an explosive or plasma would give some detail to the fighters, only for them to be engulfed and snuffed by that same light.

Dragons, and I mean real fucking dragons, were dogfighting over the entire battle while their riders took shots at each other any chance they could. One pelted out automatic fire some some kind, the golden prick my best bet, then the other fired the iconic green plasma ball that I knew so well. I gripped the handle of my gun until my knuckles went white and my teeth grounded into each other. That was a BFG. That's MY weapon, no one else. I yelled and screamed at the dragon riding douche bag who was firing USSMC property, a completely useless rant as I doubt my voice could carry half a click away. Fuck Karl, I thought, he stole my weapon. Even though I know I saw it disappear in my hand after I had used it, and it was more likely another weapon smuggled in with everyone else, but an adrenaline soaked mind was poor for logical reasoning.

Eventually the battle died down after one last massive bomb leveled out the rest of the diner. Quick as it came it was gone, and the shapes retreat back into the forest around them. Bush fires and the moon high in the sky was the light that shown the blood slick battleground and the craters that remained. Who won wasn't my concern, but our malevolent time piece counted out who died in the fight's wake with his usual sadistic glee. So few left, and after what they had already suffered through, then I was left deal with the survivors like a plague through the weak herd.

This was my chance to sweep this for myself. A wicked grin spread across my face, my teeth bared under what was left of my helmet. In the corners of my mind I imagined the situations, pitched battles and painful injuries inflicted upon my foe. I relished in it then, to see my fists clinched around the spines and guts of them, red blood up to my elbows.

I had lost myself. And only would seeing those who stood before me rend and torn limb from limb. I feel ashamed of that now, but I did not care at the moment.

I climbed down from my roost so fast that the tree branches snapped under my bulk. I landed on my feet and pain shot up my leg from my bad ankle, but pain was temporary. Pain was meaningless, Hell's worst could stop then so too would my own body fail. I wolfed down the last of my MRE and water. I didn't even bother to cook it, just squeezed the sludge down my throats and washed it down. I absentmindedly reloaded the ranged weapon and grabbed my hammer laid next to the tree trunk. Armed with what I could, I rushed down the forest path, towards the site of the battle and my conquest.

Nothing short of victory would be allowed, I swore under my breath. The morning would rise, the dawn sun would overlook the sunset of Dante's Abyss. It would all end in fire and blood, and I would be a top the bodies.

#4
With a simmering grimace, the prime slowly rose. His eyes peeked open only to engage the flame of fresh pain erupting in his chest, the same spot where he had been shot with an elite arrow and taken a strangely melted form of a goopy explosion. He was lucky to be alive, but that 'luck' had a limit and the insurmountable pain remained in the folds of where the wrecked line had been drawn. It was insane, so much had been left unsaid and yet his agony said it all.

The grim news was told by the lines of grief written on the survivor's faces. He imagined them, of course, as they had once lived, and the nonexistent faces of MESH and Ambrosia, who had originally appeared to be examining him and perhaps even condemning his failure; quickly their faces turned into a familiar crescent-shape of enlivening encouragement. This imagined sight usually gave him the strength to stand, for expectation was never an easy weight to bare alone and the unsettling discomfort had once provided motivation enough for him to stand if only to grant himself the pleasure of seeing the real thing -their smiling faces- one final time. He had survived many close calls only with only a similar picture of care and triumph for the friends in his heart; their smiles had always been just enough to make his suffering worth it.

Yet for the catalyst, this mirage only dampened his heart and far from put out the fire erupting from his wounds. Those faces that he had once fought alongside were no where to be seen and now, having only just been spun from his daze, he was forced to assume the worst. Perhaps in his groggy slumber he had heard Karl, but he quickly dismissed this notion as a simple hallucination. In heaving breaths, the warrior tried to grade the rate of damage he had taken, or at least say something to the assumably onlooking pair of stray eyes, but his lips were helplessly pursing with each dense inhale.

The warm taste of iron rolled onto his tongue and spread across his lips in a crimson cough. His body weighed with the fatigue of lost blood and there was not enough circulating in his limbs to keep his head from spinning. The damage was disastrous, for now how could he function enough to fulfill his duty to his group? To Guu? Was this redemption's price for killing that poor masked youth? Or perhaps he had even... No the blur of battle was still too hazy for him to have distinguished the hard facts. He only knew what he saw, which was a rampaged forest in his wake.

Fear for himself chilled his already numbed limbs. Gildarts, who had found nothing in the world more real than the pain that echoed in every fragment of his remaining body, had been devastated by the idea that he had crushed those very same smiles.

There'd be no recovery from this, sorrow glazed over his weakened brown eyes. He moved the side of his index finger to his lips and confirmed the severity of his injures by the bright shade of the color that would soon bring his death.

No complaint was uttered from his lips as he braced against the shredding bark of a tree and struggled for a good minute to gather the strength to rise from his haunches.
[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus

#5
Quote:This takes place before the Ultima Weapon EE

Gilgamesh, the one true king, mankind's oldest hero, and the origin of that which all fabled heroes of legend can be derived from; his story is written within the mythologies of all the countries of the world and his legacy, a bounty of unimaginable fortune…. or so he claimed; he claimed a lot of things. In fact, there wasn’t much the fair haired ‘King’ hadn’t laid claim to. (The trees, the rocks, all of their possessions… apparently, he thought he owned everything.) Most recently, he had laid claim upon whatever was being delivered by Karl Jak’s monkeys via helicopter.

Sasuke, however, didn’t like the plan. His comrades were in bad shape and they hadn’t eaten in a while. Jon was apparently only good for catching Gilgamesh, not diner, and with their successful recover of the last drop-off, Sasuke figured it best not to press their luck. After all, lightning never strikes twice.

The problem was, they weren’t just out of food, they were also out of water, and thanks to Karl Jak’s intrusive ‘Dead Zones’, the sources for fresh water had grown awfully scarce. In truth, they had no idea if they’d ever come across another chance for water again. There had been water alongside the Furby last time, and hopefully that was a reoccurring prize. They didn’t know for sure, but If they didn’t try for the drop off it was likely they’d die of thirst and not at the hands of a blood thirsty contestant. Basically, in the face of the unknown, you go with the evil you know, not the one you don’t. So, to the drop off they would go, in hopes that lightning could indeed, strike twice.

Admittedly, the young shinobi didn’t care for the egocentric personality of Gilgamesh, but he had to hand it to the time-lost king, he was no foreigner to the strategic prowess of a monarch, and like a Machiavellian courtier, he had, twice now, assembled an array of powerful allegiances from the within the pool of the surrounding area’s contestants. Together, their marry band of misfits had traversed the island and headed back to where it had all begun: the 1950’s themed diner.

Sasuke took point, no one seemed to mind, it was obvious that he was the fastest of the group; that and he figured they didn’t mind him risking his neck first either, better him than they. Either way, the shinobi was the first to spot the restaurant and on approach he singled for the party to halt.

Yo… am I going to make any cameos in this or what? Seriously, what’s going on here? You’re boring everyone to death, everyone knows Deadpool is the star of the Abyss. You’re just a meat-shield, haven’t you read my signature. Tch, make way, scrub.

Deadpool, followed by a f*ck-ton of other contestants, arrived at the clearing above the diner, next to the young ninja, and spoke, “Do you think they are still serving breakfast? I just looooove those little pigs in a blanket!”

Sasuke rolled his eyes at Deadpool’s comments as he turned to face the odd-ball band of contestants, accessing them with his sharingan as he did so. Gilgamesh had gathered together quite a force. Besides Sasuke and Jon, he had also acquired Blink, a magenta colored mutant, an emerald colored alien named Retane, Deadpool, we all know and love, and Ganondorf a…. coffee colored behemoth.(He stood at 7’6!) Sasuke didn’t quite know what to think of the creatures the King of Dunes had assembled, but with a quick look of his Uchiha eyes, he knew they possessed a fearsome strength.

“Good work, Sasuke, you have proven yourself a great asset to New Babylon.” Gilgamesh fawned over the ninja as he moved closer to place a hand on the youth’s shoulder. Jon Snow also gave Sasuke a look of approval, causing a grin to express itself upon the visage of the ninja. Sasuke didn’t realize it, but he had grown fond of Snow. He was a capable fighter and the ninja felt relieved he had someone dependable he could rely on in this. Commander Hammond had made the call and was right to of entrusted this mission to the two of them, they both had what it took to make it out of the abyss, unfortunately, only one of them could.

The Gruedo king scoffed at Gilgamesh’s remark in regards to New Babylon, though he refrained from speaking on it, instead he stepped forward, “Let’s just get this over with! After, I’ll have to prove to you once and for all whom the true King of the Dunes is!”

Blink stood adjacent Ganondorf, her body tense and ready for anything. Sasuke eyed the mutant, as neither her defensive stance nor her feminine figure went unnoticed by the youth. She was odd and unlike anything Sasuke had ever seen, but not altogether gruesome. In fact, the youth concluded, she wasn’t unattractive, just different… exotic even.

Yea…Ya know, if pink mutants are your thing. F*ckin' weirdo…

A large, almost prehistoric looking shadow covered the group as the bird who caused it loomed overhead, appearing as though it were headed to pass right over Deadpool.

Whoa! Okay, stop! I get it! I’ll stop heckling, just NO Birdsh*t! I swear to OmniJesus, enough with the birdsh*t! I’ll f*ckin' banish you!



‘Omni Jesus’? Who am I? One of your f*ckin’ lame a** NPC’s. GTFO, noob, smh.


“INSOLENCE! I am your Kin-” Gilgamesh started, however abandoned the train of thought and sighed, “You’re right, we’re not here for this. We’re here for that!” as he finished, his index finger extended in the direction of a helicopter, that had flown in over the mountain and now hovered above the diner.

Like trained navy seals, men in black, propelled down onto the roof of the diner, in true ‘death from above’ fashion. A beat later they had entered and exited from the diner, shimmying back up from whence they came, the chopper speeding off into the distance now.

“Mwhahah! This is my game! I rule here! Just get out of my way and maybe you won’t get hurt!” the green Namekian stepped forward with a fire in his eyes.

“Easy, friend, you’ll get your hands bloody soon enough.” Gilgamesh spoke up with a wave of his hand before he continued, “I say we send a scout in first.”

Of course he meant Sasuke. Who else?

***

In a flash, the shinobi had covered the distance from the clearing to the diner and had begun his search for opponents. Fruitless, he decided to move his investigation inside and yet, he found no one still. This seems too easy… the youth thought as his eyes fell upon Karl Jak’s present to the island. Upon a diner table top, off to the corner of the room, sat a wooden crate with the glowing panels; next to the crate a duffle bag with its seal open, revealing tons of food and water. Jackpot!... Sasuke thought as his mouth began to salivate.

“INCOMING!” someone shouted as a spray of gunfire blitzed the diner and with it, entered an android looking contestant, clad in highly advanced techno-armor. Rolling to her feet, and unaware of Sasuke’s presence, the shinobi got the drop on her. With a face full of fire, the female bounty hunter hit the linoleum tile floor with a thud. Her visage an expression of pain, though hidden beneath helmet, she directed her attention to where the flame originated from. Standing atop of a diner table, a headband wearing youth, brandishing a flamethrower aimed down the sights on Samus.

She smirked with the knowledge that he was too late, she had already activated her suit’s offensive systems, launching a barrage of devastating rocket fire at the ninja.

Ignorant to the workings of advanced warfare, missiles, flamethrowers, and the like, Sasuke raised his flamethrower and pulled the trigger in an attempt to combat the projectiles. With the flame roasting the barrage of missiles, explosions began to erupt just mere inches from the youth’s face, lifting him from his feet and backwards into the air, slamming against the wall of the grill stations.(Still coated in Mami’s blood.)

Sasuke, writhed on the floor behind the counter, struggled to lift himself to his feet. The missile barrage had not only thrown his ragged and scorched body across the dinner, it had also disoriented him, leaving his vision and hearing a chaotic mess.

Leaving the ninja for dead, Samus turned to exit the diner and upon hearing the shuffling sounds of her feet the Ninja deciphered that she was leaving. Where the f*ck does he think he’s going. Hmph, this isn’t over! Sasuke snarled in thought.

Pissed off and enraged at the thought of being disregarded and underestimated, the ninja pulled himself up from the diner debris and unveiled his weapon, firing a breath of flame at the bounty hunter with malicious intent. Samus scrambled, trying to avoid the blast of fire, but like Sasuke’s anger, it consumed her, scorching the exposed parts of her body.

“Where you running off to, when I’m still right here?” Sasuke’s speech was slow and his breathing heavy, but he pressed on, “There’s something you don’t know about me. My revenge is everything to me. As long as I can exact it, I don’t care what happens to me or anyone else! If sacrificing my body is the only way to kill him, I’d give up my life a million times over! I’ll burn you, this whole damn place, and everyone in it if that’s what it takes! NOW DIIIIIEEEE!!!”

With a determined look on his face, Sasuke balanced the nozzle of the flamethrower on the Diner counter for support and pulled back on the trigger unleashing, perhaps not an Uchiha flamed fireball, but a wealth of fire headed straight for Samus all the same...

In that moment, he suddenly remembered the card he had found attached to his weapon. It had read, “Heard they tried to take your fireballs away. Hope this helps.”

He grinned. It had helped.

---

The moment passed and through a series of perfectly executed evasive maneuvers, Samus Aran avoided the brunt of the flamethrower’s devastation, allowing her to mount her own counter assault. The flak cannon discharged, spraying burning shards of metal all throughout the diner, destroying anything stupid enough to get in its way. Without a visual on her opponent, she could only speculate as to what had happened to the ninja, however she had heard the thud of what sounded like a body hitting the ground. Scrambling to her feet, Samus glanced around, this time not allowing herself to be caught off guard. Underestimating the shinobi was a mistake she wouldn’t make twice and as she searched for him, she readied herself for an attack.

Suddenly, what sounded like the crackle of a live electrical current, burst into existence, casting a light azure hue over the restaurant. Samus took a step back, most likely assuming it was the work of Erza, laying into people with GOD DAMN lightning bolts!

Before Samus could investigate further, Sasuke sprang out from behind the counter, and unleashed a thunderous blow into her chest. His lightning-infused fist, cheered on by the sounds of a thousand birds screeching, screaming, and pleading for Samus’s life to end. However, the bounty hunter refused to die. Hell, the b*tch even refused to scream!

Sasuke’s confident expression gave way to terror as his eyes widened. This…. Brute of a warrior was truly withstanding the might of his Chidori. The glow of his attack began to dissipate as, with a grunt, the hunter smashed her helmet against Sasuke’s face, knocking the ninja backwards and breaking his contact with her.

A sensation of pain overwhelmed his face as he landed on his haunches with a thud. Managing to his feet, he left himself open for attack, an opening Samus took advantage of, and one he wouldn’t soon forget.

*BANG!!*

From point blank range he couldn't avoid this blast like he had the first. An explosion of shrapnel assailed the youth’s face, causing him an immense pain and launching him across the diner, toppling over table after table as he went, until finally, he landed with a smashing sound and his consciousness started to slip away from him. He fought it as he tried to steady himself.

Quote:The woman, her legs somewhat shaky, rose to her feet. Her eyes found the package, but in her heart, she knew that her teammates were still risking their lives. Turning to look at the door, she saw the mercenary leaning against the frame, a furry toy in his hand.

“Have fun,” Deadpool replied as he chucked the object at Samus. The bounty hunter stumbled backwards as the Furby hit the ground in front of her and somehow managed to land upright. The strange little toy wiggled, its eyes looking up and down as it chirped something out of its plastic beak. Samus wasn’t an idiot—the bounty hunter turned and tried to run even as those words rang out from the toy.

“I love you,” it said before it exploded and brought down the front half of the dinner.

*KABOOM!!*

Sasuke blacked out.

***

Sasuke Uchiha awoke and peered about the diner with his one good eye. One good eye?! Sasuke placed a hand to where he had once possessed vision, but alas, his fingers felt blood, and flesh, but nothing that resembled an eyeball. He pulled his, Village of the Leaf, head band down over the side of his face, covering the injury; an image of Obito flashed in his mind as he grimaced, then chuckled at his misfortune.

Barely able to see, he scanned the room for the hunter, but he knew the woman was dead. There was just no way she could have survived that blast. He managed, with trouble, to his feet. Staggering, he stumbled over to where the crate had once been located and began to clear away the debris.

“There!” He said as he found it, looking down at the warm glowing mass of rainbow light and scooped it up. A bright light flashed, enveloping the dinner and blinding anyone within eyesight. Once the light faded, the rainbow mass he had once held in his hand was gone and in its place, a weapon of legend remained. Sasuke grinned, “I guess lightning does strike twice.”
Dante's Abyss 2015
   GRAND CHAMPION   
[Image: Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png]       
Mark Twain Wrote:"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."

#6
Quote:
Blood.

Blood dripped from the clawed talon of the Hatchling. Her other arm pushed upwards, breaking through shattered concrete. Her head emerged. She was alive.

The world spun around her as she staggered to her feet. Everything seemed to shake and vibrate.

The Ninja. She saw his face, red-black eyes like spiders’. She clenched her clawed hand, feeling it scream out in pain. Where were her friends?

Nowhere to be seen. She’d heard the screams outside. The destruction. It had been a huge battle, but she could do nothing. She hadn’t even been able to secure the package. She trembled and shook.

Rage.

She reached through the rubble. Somewhere beneath all that wreckage was her bag. And in that bag was what would secure her revenge. Every movement brought pain, sickness. Her head spun and she wanted to throw up. But she carried on until she found the bag.

She reached inside.
[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]

#7
Her suit flickered and sparked. She was sure that if she still had her helmet right now, the visor would be feeding her all kinds of messages. Critical damage to shielding system. Servomotors in the legs and arms were beginning to fail. The left arm had had to be removed altogether. It was no good to her if she couldn’t move it.

As for the legs, they took almost more effort to move now than if she had not been wearing the suit at all. She had to force them. Move, she willed it. And the suit responded. Every now and then it threatened to fail altogether, flickering out of existence for a half-second. She wouldn’t let it. You don’t quit until I do.

I don’t quit until you do.

She tried the predator form. A horrible creaking noise emitted, like the sound of a bass speaker backfiring, before the shoulder pads popped into their sleeker form, and the orange light faded to a blue glow. That was better. She could move easier now. One hit and she was done for anyway. She had to make the next shot count. No scraps. Just killing blows.

She looked at the flak cannon. It was busted up but it would still work. She still had firepower.

She had to find Mickey and Gildarts. Harry and Erza were dead now, at least, free of this horrible place. She knew that playing Jak’s game was what he wanted, played right into his hands. But she also knew how to turn someone’s prizes against themselves. She’d done it time and time again. The Chozo. The Space Pirates. The Galactic Federation. Even Cindy had been able to use the power of the dragons as her own. The only way to win in this world was to use everything at your disposal. That costumed asshole had managed to use the building against her. A smart move, inescapable. The enemies had outnumbered them, split them up, and taken them to pieces.

Well, she couldn’t do that. There weren’t enough good people in the world to outnumber the evil, the indifferent, the weak, the greedy, the scum. But good people were stronger. They had compassion. They had reason. And Harry, and Erza, had died standing up for their ideals. She stood here now instead of them by sheer luck alone. There was no way she was going to waste that.

She tore into an MRE. Her last. Beef brisket. That animal had died so she could live. And unlike her, there was no coming back. The Chozo, the X-Parasites, the Metroids. Every single thing and every single person she killed – they were the price she paid to be alive. The cost kept getting higher. But she would pay it. Pay it until she came to Karl Jak. And then …

Then he would pay.
[Image: 0bwAI3j.jpg]

#8
"Huff . . . huff . . . whew . . The hell did that husky bruiser come from?" Luffy muttered to nobody in particular, not that anyone was around to hear regardless. The bomb-blustered landmass was scantily barren by comparison to days prior. An eerie silence befell the plundered paradise.

Ding!

"Wait a sec . . where . . am I? I'm . . back on the Island? I'm . . I'm back! I'm me!" The pirate celebrated, frantically patting himself down with fervor. The blow to his dome, compliments of the gun-toting space marine, seemed to have weakened Darkrai's cohesive grip. Mugiwara was finally in control again.

Elation soon floundered into anguish as he winced with a click of his teeth; innumerable patches of flesh-torn abrasions quickly drew him into a buckling slump. Rusted prongs jutted out from his elastic dermis, his arm refusing to obey signals from the brain, seething pain along his shoulder blade, scarred burn marks stretching the expanse of his left leg. To put it lightly, this was not his best day. With a forced chuckle, Straw Hat quietly pledged to plan his next vacation somewhere with a more pleasant itinerary.

"Ow! Owowowow! Damn it, what's that wicked jerk been doing with my body?!" The battered youth bellyached irately whilst clutching the sniper rifle at his side, nearly bending the titanium alloy with a fuming grip. Placing the butt-end against dredged soil, Straw Hat hoisted himself up via makeshift crutch. Glancing around to absorb his surrounding, the perforated prime loosed a sigh of reprieve. Threats of impending danger were in short supply, but so too were friendly faces.

He was alone. All alone.

Absolute seclusion, something the adventure seeker was rather unfamiliar with, weighed heavily on him. Craning his neck, Luffy waxed tender thoughts of fellow comrades. Back home, somewhere, his crew awaited his return. Amidst the isle of Cinnabar, his wacky group of misfits awaited his return. Here, on this very cove of murder and mayhem, his freshly coveted allies awaited his return.

Everyone was waiting for him, though the rubber youth could do little to sate their yearning. Mugiwara erroneously underestimated this island, this 'competition,' this house of horror. The marred captain tensed, angry at himself, at his own shortcomings. Why was he so weak? So frail? So vulnerable? The things he's done . . . the people he'd harmed . . . most of all, the friends he'd let down.

"Ergh, if only I hadn't been so stupid. If only I hadn't been such easy pickin's for that trash pokefreak. You bastard! I could have helped them! I could have done something! Now they're dead! I know you can hear me! Come on, speak up!" Delving into his own cognizance, Straw Hat commanded Darkrai to reveal himself. Not one to disappoint, the nightmarish entity promptly emerged from a sea of wispy shadows.

Quit your yammering, I've got a heeaadache. Moreover, don't provoke me you primeape. Just count your graaaces, little one, while you still can. In a twist of positive fooortune, that brooding homo-sapien managed to sever my supreeemacy over your cerebrum.

Ah? I don't really understand what you're saying but whatever, I've got my body and brain back! Kishishishi. Bleeehhh! Luffy jovially mocked, splaying his tongue out and erecting a solo middle-digit at the dusk-veiled legendary, whom merely gnarled resent before retreating back into the shady depths.

******

Transgressing back into the material realm, one no more joyous than his topsy-turvy psyche, Straw Hat wrangled together his embarrassingly scarce belongings and hiked forth at limping pace. The pirate hadn't an inkling of how long this newfound control might last, but time was a luxury he nor the remaining primes still littered about could afford.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I'll stand tall for you . . ."

Luffy vowed to bare all piercing fragments of guilt until such a time wherein he could rectify all aberrations. Their sacrifices empowered him, drove him. His fists now brandished the spirits of the fallen, and he grew nothing short of delighted to enact the role as their vassal of vengeance.

Survival was his obligation, victory was his compulsion, but aiding those dear to him was his prerogative.

"Time to end this game . . . "
[Image: giphy.gif]

#9
The mouse had curled up underneath a tree, snuggling with Mjolnir, trying to get some rest. For a few hours—at least it seemed that way—he succeeded. The pain overwhelmed him, but surprisingly enough that made it easier to slip into slumber.

When his eyes flickered open, the island had disappeared.

In its place, he found the inquisitive face of Minnie Mouse looking down on him, hands on her hips. Behind her, an emerald-green forest not tainted by death unfurled. He looked up at his wife’s glare, and tried his best to crack a smile, though the pain made it hard. She exhaled, obviously annoyed. “Where’ve ya been, mister?”

Her voice hit him like the most beautiful music he had ever heard. Even through the shooting pains that traveled through his body like lightning, it gave him the strength to get up off the ground. “Uh…” he stammered, “I—uh, well I’ve—uh…”

“‘Uh’ is right, mister,” she scolded, bringing one of her gloved hands across his face.

Ouch,” Mickey groaned, “…don’t you think I’ve taken enough grief?” He held up the stump where his hand had been cut off. Minnie did not seem concerned.

“All I know is that you’ve been gone for much too long,” she spat, and though she tried to look angry, she leapt forward and embraced him. He felt the pain running through him, but he gladly accepted a hug from the love of his life. Gosh, I missed you. His one hand touched her back, desperately hoping that she was as real as she felt. Maybe he’d died in his sleep. That would certainly have been the most peaceful way to exit this competition.

Maybe he’d died, and found himself back in the Omniverse—but then, why in the world was Minnie here? It made no sense. He knew Omni had brought him to this place alone.

Minnie broke the hug, and looked her husband in the eyes. Her gaze had suddenly turned dreadfully serious. “Mickey,” she sighed, “You have to finish this.” He wanted to ask her what she meant, but he was stopped when she planted a small kiss on his mouse lips.

He could not tell whether or not this dream was actually coming true.

When he opened his eyes, she was gone. It had been far from reality, it seemed. Karl Jak’s voice boomed over the island, and Mickey listened closely to this list of fallen competitors.

#20 Harry Dresden.

#34 Erza Scarlet.

The list finished, and Mickey picked up Mjolnir, his newfound sense of determination flowing through his broken body. Samus Aran and Gildarts’ names had not been on Jak’s list. They were still alive, though for how much longer, Mickey couldn’t know. But he knew one thing.

This game would end today, one way or another.
[Image: 2agonyw.png]

#10
Exhaustion mixed with pain and injury, which slowed my travel to a crawl. The anger in my heart still bubbled and boiled, but my body was broken and on the verge of collapse. It was by sheer force of will that I was still able to move, let alone stay alive. Absentmindedly and almost instinctively my hand found its way to the crest of Darkshire and clenched it tightly. My purpose had not left me, I had managed to stay alive longer than that red-haired bastard. Now the only one left was the king of sand, and should I survive past him I could die happy.

My vision faded in and out, surely I was suffering some form of sepsis from the infection. Perhaps not, I guess I wouldn’t really know if sepsis would even be the correct word to use. Valerie had taught me an extensive amount of medical knowledge, but I was never very good at it. In fact of all the things he taught me very few of it stuck. Almost everything combat related was etched into my memory and the more peaceful pursuits were shoved to the side. He was not blind to my bloodlust, and often remarked about how my rage would blind me. On the contrary my anger did nothing but focus my resolve, it permeated every fiber of my being and turned me into the Avatar of Rage.

The road I had followed for the past mile or so started to split in twain. Paralyzed by the decision I decided to sit down for a moment and rest. The sun was rising and in a few hours the asphalt would be broiling, but for now it was still cool from the night before. The chilled asphalt felt good on my tortured skin and I could help but lay on my back. The Abyss had begun to take its grim toll on me and it refused to relent. Dammit. Why must I be so weak? I asked myself, cursing my fragile form. If this collar wasn’t around my neck I could probably push forward, using my magicks to force my body beyond its limits.

Would Dmitri forgive me if I just died here? Rumford? The Rock?

Would I forgive myself?

No.


No, I wouldn’t. Time to get up.

I hate this. I hate this pain. I hate this island. I hate everything here.

My vision focused to a pinpoint and I rolled over onto my stomach, pressing my shattered arm against my stomach. The pain hurt, but kept me lucid. This reaffirming of my willpower was a common but needed ritual, especially when I was standing on the precipice of death. So long as there was still competition I will not shed my mortal coil. I screamed and raged against the absurdity of this deathmatch. Even with the flame of rage burning in my heart, my body was still a wreck. It took me a while to find my footing, but I made a silent promise to never lay down again. If I took another moments rest I doubt I would be able to stand back up.

“Everyone in Darkshire that is rooting for me... Rumford, Dmitri” I forced myself to speak as clearly as I could, but fatigue still slurred my speech “please, believe in me. I... won’t let you down... but I need all the strength I can get right now.” Knowing that there were people counting on my victory, strengthened my resolve. The Avatar of Rage was not going down without a fight. The Defender of Darkshire wasn’t going to forsake his oath. And I, Strazio Rockwell, would not fall.
[Image: StrazSig.png]

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

#11
Face to Face
#27 Deadpool, #05 Gilgamesh, #43 Sasuke Uchiha & #13 Strazio Rockwell vs #09 Samus Aran & #21 Gildarts


Somehow, through some strange twist of luck, Samus Aran and Gildarts found one another amid the city’s border. Neither had made it through the last battle without their fair share of bruises, but neither of them had lost the fire in their eyes. They walked with silence, both favoring their injured limbs and neither wanting to be the first to stop to catch their breath or make sure they hadn’t torn anything else.

The silent march into whatever hells remained on the island for them lasted just a short while longer, until they turned down a new block and found themselves staring at Strazio Rockwell. The Defender of Darkshire, his body bruised and ravaged, clutched the plank of wood in his good hand and glared at the two warriors. They knew the look on his face—it was that same as the one on their face. He was going to come at them with everything that remained in his body, and they were going to retaliate with everything in their combined arsenal.

“Well lookie here,” a voice called out from behind the bounty hunter and her ally. They turned to see Deadpool standing behind them without the majority of his clothes. The merc-with-a-mouth grinned as he turned on half of his lightsaber and dug into his crotch for his pokeball. Behind him, Sasuke and Gilgamesh could be seen advancing toward the duo, but as the ninja ran ahead, his ally stopped walking. The gilded king coughed and dropped to a knee, his injuries getting the best of him.

Oblivious to what had just happened, Sasuke ran forward, his hands reaching for the Ultima Weapon as he approached the battle. By the time he was ripping out the handle and activating the chidori blade, Samus and Gildarts had broken apart. A flurry of flak ripped through the air, forcing a naked Deadpool backwards as he noticed the ninja rushing into battle. With a shrug, Deadpool itched as his crotch and watched the ninja with the lightning sword try to not get blown into little bits.

On the other side of the street, Strazio charged forward, his body exploding with white light as he dug deep into himself to find one final burst of strength and anger. The man lunged, swinging the 2x4 at Gildarts and catching the wounded prime in the side of the head.

With a growl, Gildarts swung the shield with his arm, bashing Strazio across the face and chest. Taking advantage of the lull, the taller of the two men threw his head back as his own glowing white lights surrounded his body. Lunging forward, Gildarts swung, his blow sailing high as his adversary dropped into a crouch and swung his plank. The piece of wood smashed into the other prime’s kneecap, shattering the bone.

Gildarts dropped down onto the broken joint and winced as Strazio reeled back on his plank. Before the Defender of Darkshire could strike, Gildarts, swallowing down his agony, shoved up off the ground. The shield dropped to the ground as he clenched his fingers into a fist and swung his hand up into Strazio’s chin. The impact released a blast of energy that threw Gildart’s adversary up into the air amidst a spiral of white energy. As the wounded prime watched, the energy faded, and Strazio landed with a dull thud atop a small building.

Was he dead? Was that white energy still surging from the rooftop residue from Gildarts’ magic or the glow that consumed the enraged Strazio? When he did the attack normally, Gildarts had always charged, building up momentum before landing the blow, but he had acted out of desperation this time.

Gildart’s rose to his feet and was about to ensure his opponent was defeated when the cylinder of crackled red energy punched out through his chest. Looking down at the lightsaber blade, the prime scowled as his eyes fell to the shield that lay on the ground beside him. I hope I served you well.

With a thud, Gildarts hit the ground, his eyes never leaving the standard of his leader as the light faded from his eyes. Above the body, a smiling Deadpool scratched as his lucky charm inside his boxers.

---

Sasuke lunged and swung his weapon down at Samus. The bounty hunter dove out of the way and retaliated with a blast of flak that caused the ninja to dive for cover. He hit the ground hard and felt fresh pain surge through his ankle. Samus could see it in the way her opponent winced, but before she could find her shot, bullets stared to rain through the air at her.

Diving away, Samus turned and saw the man in the golden armor limping toward their fight. Was he an idiot? The bounty hunter scrambled to her feet and fired at Sasuke. She wasn’t afraid of the ninja, who had proved in their last fight that was incapable of getting anywhere near her. All she had to do was time her shot and be done with it. The golden idiot shooting at her was going to complicate things and demanded her attention.

Firing once more to fend off the ninja, Samus moved at Gilgamesh, who was stumbling as he shot at her, his feet shaking as he stepped toward her. The bullets bit into the ground around the woman, but before she could squeeze off another round of flak, something closed around her hand. It was a purple snake that hissed and snapped at her face as it squeezed around the cannon. Biting through the pain of broken bones, she swung her claw plated fist, slashing across the creatures face. As its relaxed its grip, she tried to lift the cannon, but the whir of a chainsaw assailed her ears. The Lancer’s bayonet hit her arm above the gun and sawed through the flesh until the flak cannon hit the ground with the thud.

Instinct kicked in, and the missile racks popped up. In an instant of heat and fire, Gilgamesh was gone—his body a few yards in front of her. The golden armor was in broken pieces all around him, and his exposed body was shattered and unrecognizable as plumes of smoke wafted up from patches of still burning flesh. Samus turned from the fallen monarch and gasped as the blade of crackling electricity punched through her chest. She looked into the eye of Sasuke Uchiha. His bruised, scarred mouth was twisted in a scowl as he clenched the handle of his sword. Part of her was angry. But part of her didn’t blame him. He was simply playing out the role he’d been given when he was dumped onto this place.

She would never forget this island. She would never forget the person who had tricked her here. She would never forget the person responsible for the death of her friends.

Without an utterance of pain, Samus Aran fell to her knees as the sword left her body. She looked up one final time, her eyes burning holes through the ninja as she fell sideways to the ground.

Stumbling away from the woman’s body, Sasuke looked over and saw that Gilgamesh’s belongings were gone. A glimpse around showed no sign of the mercenary.

“Curse you,” Sasuke growled beneath his breath.

--

As the ninja departed, leaving behind the woman’s body, he failed to hear a nearby door creak open.

A man—bloody but alive—stumbled out and dropped to a knee as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes fell to the corpse of the man who had nearly been his undoing and the duffel bag that lay nearby.

#21 Gildarts DEAD
#05 Gilgamesh DEAD
#09 Samus Aran DEAD

8 Primes Remain


Strazio Rockwell used Tier 1 Transformation Avatar of Anger (-1 SP)
Deadpool rolled a '2'

Strazio's jaw is broken -- Minor Injury (+2 Damage)

The 2x4 is broken
The Jetpack, Lancer, and Flak Cannon were destroyed

Deadpool steals Gilgamesh’s bag (Deadpony, Binocular, BFG ,Golden Dragon Egg)
Strazio receives the Vibranium Shield and Gunblade
Sasuke Uchiha receives the Mercy/Banishment Circle from Samus
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

#12
Quote:Mature Material. Don't read this if you have bad memories... of very sensitive issues. THis is my interpretation of what Pyramid Head will make you feel when it comes to guilt and innocense. Alot of this is a bit personal so don't come to me later because you are offended. You have been warned.

He walked on. It was a slow agonizing walk. Almost as if his body struggled withitself. Each step was staggering, as if he was a marionette puppet on strings, with no tendons or corded muscles to halp him move. Just imaginary strings. Still, he accepted it. It was his fate. It was always his destiny. And he embraced it. He was not scared. The pain of the the crimson geometrical shape was massive .Again, Retane was happy to feel the burden. It was darkness true darkness and he deserved it. He wanted to carry everyones guilt. He wanted the weight of the worlds pain on his shoulders.


-----------------------------------

"Scarface! You are ugly! You smell like a wet fucking dog!" The words rang out in his memories. They stung and hurt . The young boy shook his head as he cried. No one knew what he felt. No one gave a damned. They let it all happen They stood back and watched it happen. They weren't suppose to do that. They were suppose to help. It was their job, wasn't it? The boy looked at the guns in the case. His stepfather wouldn't mind. Even if he did, he'd get it to.

They'd respect him in the morning everyone would. There would be no more beatings. The gigantic behmoth of a man that was his stepfather wouldn't t make him touch his toes anymore. That leather belt would no longer tan his hide, just because his mother argued with her new husband. They would never keep him from his father ever again. Those all at school would know his rage. He'd show them all. They would his anger. He's show them hate and racism. He'd show them that he owed them nothing. He'd let them know that they were no longer the minority. He would show them all that he was the true slave. That he wourked the feilds, that his rear had taken real lashings.

He would show them all that he was the victim. He'd let them all know what it was like to be bullied. Actions and choices and consequences.

"What have I done", The boy asked himself as he stared at the near empty gun. A single bullet remained in the chamber. People were running. Scrambling to get away from him. The girl that had called him a wet dog laid there, taking her last breath as the sanguine fluid pooled out beneath her. Just like his stepfather and mother had earlier that morning before he got on the bus to come to school. He couldn't beleive he had done it, now it was time for one more life to perish. He wouldn't be bullied anymore...


----------------


Ashley looked at her brother with a sad face, "He's my father."

"No! No he's not ." Glenn shouted. How long had he kept this hidden within? why was it going down now. "I'm your family. Not them. We both know who your real father is. Stop fucking denying it!"

"Fuck you Glenn! Go to hell." Ashley shouted back at her older brother.

"No fuck you! You go to hell. Go die like that 'sister' of yours did. Go sit at that man's deathbed and watch him die."


Jen was dead. The man she knew to be was her grandfather was dying and now her brother was being an asshole and walking out of his life to. She turned and stormed off never looking back. He didn't want her as her family, then he could go straight to hell.

Glenn soon found himself slamming them back, unsure what he had done. He couldn't remember how it had started, but he was firm on his decision. He wouldn't go back on it. Ashely could go to hell. He was tired of feeling abandonned and betrayed. He was tired of people taking his love for granted. If they wanted to choose other over then them then fuck them all. It wasn't his fault his mother had chose to sleep with those men. It was all her damned fault!

He got in the truck as he threw another beer can into the desolate parking lot. It would be the last time he would turn that ignition over. H'd never be able to tell her he was wrong and he was sorry....

----

"Don't tell anyone... this will be our secret..."

He had been family. Everyone had trusted him. She knew it had hurt. She had scars on top of scars on her arms and legs. No one would see them. No one could ever know. She blamed herself. She had been so foolish. She wanted someone to tell her it was her fault, but she could never reach out and speak. She'd keep it bottled up. It had to be his fault but she couldn't accept it. Her mind struggled within itself. She coldn't take it anymore and rolled her pants leg up high, revealing her thigh. It still had fresh cuts from earlier that morning. Now she was alone at the graveyard, looking at her grandfather's burial plot.

"This wont hurt I promise..." She muttered under her breath as she dug the razor into her flesh, mimicing the phrase he use to tell her all those years ago...

----------------

"Kill them! Kill them all! It's time to show you arent a sidekick. Murder them all!" The malefactor pushed the thoughts into his head. Jack tried to deny it, but let it happen. It felt so wrong. He trusted Retane. Now he had paid the consequence. He felt the rage. The anger. He wanted to kill. He was no longer a guardian. He was The Ice Fiend.

Use your hands Retane had said before. He used them and the power of the Empire. He ws no longer a sidekick. Never a sidekick to Retane. Retane would get it just as soon as he took this rocket launching bitch. Jack had come. Jack had felt darkness. Now everyonw would know it!


-----------

How do you rip the goodness from a persons heart? Inside the namekian couldn't figure it out. This was humanity? This was the pain people dealt with? Now he understood.... Now he got it... The namekian was glad to accept his fate. It was his fault Jack had felt that pain. It was always his fault

The namekian with the dark red ptinagular object strode on. People had to die now. Anyone he met would die. They would feel the guilt and darkness he felt. The would feel theweight of the dragging glaive and the weight of the executioner's cleaver.
[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...

#13
Face to Face
#04 Retane vs #37 Luffy & #14 Mickey Mouse


Straw Hat and the Mouse King had only been together for a short while when they heard the air raid siren.

“Oh, Boy,” Mickey muttered as he clenched the hammer in his fist. What was it this time? Did Karl Jak intend to drop bombs on the island now that the competition was winding down to its conclusion?

The two looked around and realized that it was starting to…

Snow?

Luffy held out a hand and watched as one of the flakes dropped onto his hand. He held it up to his mouth and licked it. A moment later, he made a disgusted noise and spat it onto the ground. “Not snow.”

“It’s ash…” Mickey muttered as they both saw a figure emerge from the woods nearby. The green flesh and the ragged clothes were recognizable to the mouse almost immediately—it was the prime with the rocket launcher. This was the same prime that Erza had struck down in front of the diner, so why was he lumbering toward them? And why was his head concealed with a giant, rusted red pyramid helmet.

“What is it?” Luffy said as he backed away, his hands reaching for the rifle.

“Not a friend,” Mickey replied as the monster lurched forward and swung a massive cleaver at them. The mouse ducked under as Luffy hopped up, his feet just barely escaping the weapon’s path as it tore through a nearby tree without stopping. The elastic pirate landed on his feet and pulled the trigger, sending a fifty caliber round right into the monster’s helmet, which jerked to the side upon impact.

Without a sound, Pyramid Head stepped forward and swung the glaive down at Mickey Mouse like a spear. The mouse hopped back and released a blast of lighting from Mjolnir that caught the creature in the chest, causing lightning to dance across its body for a few brief moments before it dropped down to a knee.

As he was the closet one, Luffy shouldered his rifle and drew closer. He saw the glaive move and fired at the creature’s hand, blasting it apart, but even as he celebrated that small victory, he didn’t see the cleaver swing forward until it was already buried halfway through his gut. The pirate let out a groan as he dropped the rifle and turned to face the monster. A bolt of lightning danced across Pyramid Head as Luffy’s sweat started to boil around him.

Mugiwara growled as he slung back an arm, stretching it as far as he could. As he slung it forward, it burst into flames and slammed right into the monster’s pyramid helmet. There was a moment of resistance before the helm shattered apart.

The namekian inside groaned as he lost his grip on the cleaver. He dropped to his own knees and clutched at the dirt as he felt his heart slowing down in his chest. He was Death. He wouldn’t die like this. This was his contest!

Retane lurched forward as the ground behind him exploded amidst a bolt of lightning. His green hands slammed into the handle of the clever, forcing it deeper into his opponent’s gut. Before he could wrench it free, a pair of hands closed around his neck. The namekian looked up into the eyes of his opponent and sneered even as his neck was broken with a swift twist. As Luffy dropped the corpse of the namekian, he turned and smiled faintly at Mickey.

“You got this,” he muttered as he collapsed. By the time the mouse reached him, Monkey D. Luffy had already slipped away.

#04 Retane DEAD
#37 Monkey D. Luffy DEAD

Six Primes Remain


The GPS is there for Mickey Mouse
The Orgosynth is there for Mickey Mouse, you just need to tear it from Retane’s corpse if you want it

You can’t use anything else, because you have one hand =(
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

#14
Face to Face
#26 Doomguy vs #01 Android 18


Doomguy wandered the island looking for battle. He had gone on for so long with little satisfaction. Everything thus far had been easy kills or frustrating near-misses with gold-plated kings of stretching hulk monsters.

So with the killing starting to wind down across the island, the last thing the marine expected to find was the very person he’d run into on the island. The blonde woman with the subtle scars had seen better days, although the blood spattered on her face added a little more animal attraction to the whole ‘savage woman’ look she had going on with the tattered clothes.

Doomguy wasn’t a misogynist—he kill a woman with the same degree of detachment as he would a man or a monster torn out of Hell.

“I see it in your eyes,” Eighteen said as a white aura glowed around her body. “Come and take it,” she muttered as she charged, the crossbow discharging a bolt as the marine brought his nail gun up to bear. The quarrel punched through his shoulder of his gun arm, but he grinned through the pain and pulled the trigger.

Nails zipped through the air around the woman. The android threw crossbow at the marine, who smacked it out of the air and brought his own gun back to his target. By that point, she’d closed the distance and smacked the weapon from his hand. A fist crashed into Doomy’s face, but the man simply grabbed for the hammer hanging at his side and swung it, clipping her in the side of the head. She stumbled backwards as the second blow hit her in the cheek, caving in part of her face.

Doomguy didn’t relent. The next hammer blow smashed into her jaw with enough force to rip the flesh and splinter the bone below, spraying blood across the marine’s face. His opponent stumbled backwards but didn’t fall over. She merely glared at him with those cold blue eyes as he swung again, ripping off her jaw completely and causing her to sputter blood onto her neck and chest.

Even then, she tried to lunge at him. He went low, shattering one of her kneecaps and causing her to hit the ground in a mangled heap. As she tried to roll onto her stomach, he lashed out with a succession of hammer blows that shattered bone and tore apart muscle and flesh. The blood flowed so much that the hammer started to make wet squelching noises when he hit her. In some of the markets airing the tournament, they turned away to a different feed.

Through it all, the android didn't scream. She didn't cry out for help or ask for mercy. The marine relented and stood back, watching as the woman flopped onto her back and stared up at him. As he watched, she had the gall to sit up, even though the majority of her bones were shattered and parts of her torn flesh and muscles dotted her opponent's armor. Although one of them was swollen shut, one of her eyes still glared at him with that unwavering soullessness.

Doomguy swung again, and her skull blew apart like a piñata.

The marine, covered in blood and flecks of viscera, stood over the corpse of the former champion and grinned.

Just a few more body bags to fill…

He would have that mountain of corpses soon enough.

#01 Android 18 DEAD

Five Primes Remain


Doomguy has a crossbow to the shoulder and a bruise on this face – Minor Injury (+4 Damage)

Doomguy gets the crossbow
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

#15
"Good morning, Everyone. You all had some fun in the early hours of the day. We said goodbye to some more friends today...

#21 Gildarts
#05 Gilgamesh
#09 Samus Aran
#04 Retane
#37 Luffy
#01 Android 18

"All squares except for E6 will become Danger Zones at noon. Go to the clinic and kill each other. Only one of you is leaving this island alive."


Quote:You may still move and may still get into F2Fs. You may move 3 times this phase. You do not have to move to the clinic with those three moves. You will move there automatically at 7 PM CDT tomorrow, June 8th.

If you survive the next 21.5 hours, you'll be in the Finale. If you don't, you won't. Either way, you're in the Top 5, so you should all be pleased that you've made it this far, through a combination of grit, subterfuge, luck, and talent. I'm damn proud of all 46 of you.

I look forward to seeing you all very soon.
[Image: KarlSig.jpg]

#16
LUFFY!

Mickey’s scream pierced the morning air as he sprinted toward his stretchy companion. Despite his litany of injuries, he closed the distance quickly, but by the time he reached the pirate-captain, the light had left his eyes. Monkey D. Luffy was gone.

The rubbery man’s form slumped over next to his emerald-skinned assailant. Mickey caught his body as it fell, the impact sending a shooting pain up his handless-arm. He cringed, and dragged Luffy away from their attacker. Heaving as he struggled to breathe, he ripped Retane’s cleaver from his friend’s body and threw it to the side, collapsing in a heap on top of the bloodied pirate.

He wept, but no tears came out. He had exhausted every single function that his diminutive body could have ever accomplished. In his heart, he knew it was over for him.

Karl Jak’s voice boomed overhead, and the knell of Samus Aran and Gildarts’ death hung like a dark cloud over his sunny patch of earth. So, that was it. Out of everyone he had met in this game—all of his allies, all of his friends—only he remained.

In a way, it comforted the mouse to know that his friends had been freed of this goshdarn murder island. If he’d been told the truth, then after losing their grip on the mortal coil they would just wake up somewhere else, refreshed and fully alive once more. The thought tempted him to try ripping off his collar again.

But he knew that wasn’t an option anymore. Only five people remained in this game, which meant that only four people stood between him and his true purpose: he would win. He would make his friends proud.

If he could ever get the fudging strength to move, that is.

His bones rebelled against him as he shifted on top of Luffy, trying to regain his balance and stand back up. Mugiwara’s face stared up at him, with that last grin still plastered on his rubbery face. Mickey looked down, and for the first time in a while he smiled, too. Relief washed over him as he realized that in just a few short hours, this game would be done. He would go to that clinic, and he would give his all—however little he had—to try and win, but either way, soon he would be off the island and back in the company of his friends.

Slowly, he finally managed to steady himself on his feet. He inched away from Luffy’s body as fast as his feet could take him—not very fast, admittedly—and slowly returned to where he had dropped Mjolnir. Four gloved fingers wrapped around the handle of the hammer he and Erza had won in their very first fight, and he tried to pull it off the ground.

It didn’t budge.

“Son of a…” he started, tugging again. Still nothing. Son of a gun, indeed.

…son of a BITCH!

The mouse’s shout echoed loudly throughout the forest. Language, he inwardly scolded himself, though even he had to admit that after everything he’d been through, he deserved a little bit of foul language.

“Ugh,” the mouse King groaned, plopping down on the ground next to the hammer. How the heck was he supposed to win this thing if he couldn’t even muster the strength to pick up his weapon? He had to, though. At this point, winning was the only option—out of respect for Erza, and Samus, and Harry, and Gildarts, and Luffy, he would bring it home.

He just had to figure out how.

Over by Retane’s corpse, something moved.

The mouse’s gargantuan ears perked up, and he heard the faint slithering sounds of whatever organism had latched itself onto the Namekian. Picking himself up off the ground, he limped over to see the blood-red, sluggish creature fleeing the scene, desperately trying to worm its way into the cover of the forest just a few yards away. Mickey’s brow furrowed, and he stepped past Retane and Luffy to go after it. Even in his weakened state, he moved faster than the mysterious little thing and caught up to it rather easily.

With his one remaining hand, Mickey Mouse reached for the Orgosynth. The creature recoiled, but it couldn’t escape. The mouse extended his arm a bit more. Carefully, he touched it.

It felt… soft.
[Image: 2agonyw.png]

#17
I moved through the forest faster than I had ever done since I'd first set foot on this twice damned island, a dead sprint through the wilderness as fast as my failing body would allow. The green blurred past my sight, the tangled roots and fallen trunks bounded over as the path I took lead me through the thick foliage. The signs of past battles were scattered across every tree and rock and patch of land, energy burns and bullet holes marked everything and puddles and splatters of blood zigzagged through the paths and nearby plantlife. Despite the clear sign of ultraviolence, I wasn't deterred or intimidated by it. Instead it only pushed me onward, the chance to prove myself and unleash my own rage upon everyone else.

It was by strange fate that who I ran into was the same person I first fought. The ever stoic Eighteen, although her already marred body had gain more wounds since I last seen her. Both of us have. We paired up against each other, like two dancers ready to give the performance they had worked for so long towards. Neither of us expected the other to hold back, no mercy for soldiers such as us. Nor did we want it. Only one of us would leave this place standing, and walk away knowing that there could have been no other way.

Bolts and nails few, and when our ranged weapons were cast away we charged into melee. She was fast and caught a blow to my face, but ultimately I overpowered her with my hammer. Each blow sprinkled the red lifeforce across my armor and the ground, but still she refused to relent. She pushed on with the same ferocity that clutched my heart, our violent dance a battle of two forces of will, but the hammer was the law here and I threw it down until she laid on the floor bloodied and broken.

I hesitated a moment to catch my breath, and look over what I had done. To call something so brutal and violent 'handiwork' would be the act of a sociopath, only a deranged monster could compare what had happened to art. But I did not regret it. The excuse 'I did what I had to do' felt lame to someone like who had always chosen the harder option to do what's right, but we both came here expecting death and pain. Only one of us could have survived. I did not apologize for it, to demand forgiveness for a deliberate action would be an insult. There was no anger, only acceptance. She remained proud and strong even under the blows, and she managed to sit up in defiance. There was a tenacity that I had only seen in myself before, and before I brought the hammer down one last time, I nodded in respect.

Perhaps in a different time, we could have been comrades in arms.

I looked up towards the sky once the dirty deed was done. The sun peaked up from the horizon, a dark orange and red light spread across the canopy and grassy fields. My bloodlust and rage was lessened by the fatigue of the fight, but not completely vanished. But then it was tempered as I saw how it would end. It was focused like the point of a spear. Not longer was it merely discriminate, although there weren't exactly innocent civilian nearby that could have been possibly harmed. I could have shouted at the dome above me, and cursed and raved at Karl now that I have killed his pet player. But it would have been a waste. Energy and will tossed away to throw meaningless threats at a meaningless man.

I took my weapons, including the new crossbow I had won in the wake of the duel, and gave once last glance over the scene now with the morning sun fully over the ocean, and left it to the last battle.

My heart pounded in my chest, holding an ache for this to end. Karl's disembodied voice gave one last announcement. The final battle was to being soon. Those few left would square off in one last hurrah and kill each other with teeth and nail if need be. Every pain and broken heart, every moral questioned and sanity lost, will be paid back in full in a single moment of rage and desperation. When we would have off against one another, it would like wounded animals fighting to survive. One of us would stand a top the heap of bodies, with the most blood on their hands.

And I was to do that, to have my mountain of corpses.

There was no more plans, or strategies. It would be a mindless brawl, and those who would scrape by were those who could fight through it all. The audience would cheer and boo and then they would move on with the rest of their lives. The winner would hold the weight of this blood sport on their backs forever. I would bare it. For those who have fallen here.

My cause was just, my will was strong. The gun in my hand would have to do, but I would make up for it with my life. I would end this war. One way or another.

#18
How was I still alive? That man hit like a freight truck and sent me flying through the air with one punch. Maybe it was some sort of divine intervention? Unfortunately there are no gods here in the Abyss so it was more than likely a perverted twist of fate. Still, my body had not failed me just yet and my willpower was still indomitable. Slowly I limped towards my fallen foe and grabbed the metal shield from the ground. Carefully I untied the sling around my neck and let my shattered arm dangle. Using the shredded cloth from the sling I tied the shield to my broken arm, pulling the knots tight. The pain was almost unbearable, but I could handle it for one more fight. I chuckled softly as I picked up the gunblade and swung it a few times in the air. A shield and sword for the knight of Darkshire, how fitting.

The smoldering remains of a monarch glinted in the sun a few feet away. Cautiously I limped towards the golden armor shards and burnt chunks of flesh. I wanted to smile, I wanted to laugh after all I had made it... Right? Gilgamesh was dead and through sheer persistence I managed to outlast the golden king. Why wasn’t I happy? My heart felt hollow, the rage was gone and in its place was nothing but a deep lachrymosic feeling. Almost as if guided by a ghost I knelt down and picked up a small golden shard of armor, it was still warm to the touch. Why couldn’t I be glad that I had outlasted him? Why did my personal victory feel so hollow?

I tried to say something -- a curse, a condemnation of the abyss -- anything, but my jaw was shattered and I couldn’t move it well enough to form words. He didn’t allow his subjects to carry him here, he fought alongside them like a proper king. Through all the arrogance and pomp at his core he was here for his people and his kingdom. Was this why I couldn’t feel good about outlasting him? Or had the Abyss swallowed my ability to feel joy?

This place sucks.

With a heavy heart and a mind of lamentations I turned from the king’s corpse. The game wasn’t over, no there was still a final battle to be had. My hand clenched around the shard of armor before casting it to the ground. There was no way in hell that I had come this far to lose. With sword in my hand and shield strapped to my arm I limped to face the upcoming battle. Damn my melancholy and damn my weary bones, I had to push forward. The Defender of Darkshire would never fall and the Avatar of Rage would give no respite. Until my body wasted away to dust I would never stop fighting.

Fuck this pain.

Fuck this island.

I came to win.


I will finish this.
[Image: StrazSig.png]

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

#19
Sucks that Alex had me steal Gil’s stuff, but a mercenary’s gotta get by somehow, amirite?







The mostly-naked mercenary panted as he ran down a two-way road, turning into a narrow street. The additional weight of an extra bag (courtesy of Gil)—and his slouching underwear, filled with Mickey’s hand—made his movement sluggish, almost staggering him on several occasions; the last of which forced him to sit his ass on the curb, just for a break. Following his mantra—keep moving—now seemed like an impossible task with his tired body. The end drew near, and he knew it. Reluctantly, he stayed put.

In his retreat, he had heard the sound of Karl’s voice (the routine phase announcement, which always declared how many Primes remained . . . interfering with Deadpool’s path to victory). Most of the host’s words were washed away, but one phrase stuck to the mercenary: Go to the Clinic. All other squares were Deadzones, as of noon. You did not need a GED to know what that meant—the finale.

One more day, the mercenary kept convincing himself. He rested his bags down on the pavement and wiped his hands over his lumpy visage. The unsteady feeling of budding fatigue now entrenched him—it gripped tighter around his energy, and stifled it. Death now stood on the front porch, with her heels close together as she knocked on his door. Soon, her patience would wither—just like his body—and she’d be forced to smash the door down to claim his life. One more day. His words were like nails, and with each repetition, he drove another one into the board barricading his home. With enough of them, he hoped to retrain her. It only had to last one more day, after all.

He opened up his green back and pulled out his last MRE—liver and onions, the label said. He scowled, for he hated the meal. It brought back memories of his abusive father (you better eat it!, followed by a forced spoon-full into his mouth). He wanted to resist, but required all the energy he could muster at this point—today liver and onions would just have to be The Breakfast of Champions.

He opened the package and removed his insta-meal. One more day, he preached. Gritting his teeth, he shoveled the soupy meat into his mouth. It was as disgusting as ever, but his mantra pushed him through the taste torture


Hey, let me out the fuckin bag!!

Oh shit, Baron’s talking to me?

No, you dumbass! It’s me, Deadpony!

Oh..



Deadpool looked over to his right, at his new—stolen—bag, and furrowed a brow as limbs poked and waved across its tan surface like an unborn in its mother’s belly. After one final gruesome bite of his MRE, he set it between his legs, scratched at his Mickey-charm, and unzipped the tan bag.

”Bout fuckin’ time! the stuffed animal exclaimed as her head jutted out from the zipper teeth. She looked over at Deadpool and furrowed a brow of her own. ”Female? You better tell your writer than I’m a male Deadpony!”

The mercenary chuckled, and clapped a hand on the stuffed animals back. ”You must be an inferior 4th Wall character,” he replied. ”Every 4th Wall breaker knows that, at a whim, Artistic Interprestion can wreck their life . . . and sexuality!”

”Well, you better tell him to change me back, or I’ll have Wyat—“

Before the stuffed animal said another word, Deadpool pushed her head back into the duffle bag. ”Yeah, no one cares,” he snickered, zipping it shut. The possibility of a DeadponyxDeadpool combination enticed the mercenary, but it occurred too late in the competition.

Summoning a burst of energy, Deadpool stood up. It was time to head to the Clinic, and finish his journey.

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


PVP Combat Record
(One-on-One)
3W - 0L - 0D
(TAG-TEAM)
4W - 1L - 0D
[Image: Deadpool_Funny.png]

#20
“Sasuke! You’re alright! Well met! –I thought you dead, but I am glad you did not die in this fight. This battle has raged on all throughout the night, but alas, these mongrels couldn’t withstand our might!” Gilgamesh spoke with a clenched fist tight.

The shinobi had just exited the destroyed remains of the 1950's diner when he heard the voice on his right. Belonging to the golden king, Sasuke faced the voice, allowing the ninja sight. Unaware the ninja had barely survived such an epic fight, Gilgamesh had flanked Sasuke on his vision absent right.


….


Didn’t we talk about this? Every time you start rhyming, I bounce on you, haha. Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. Welp! It’s been fun, well played, good game, and all that jazz. See you in the finals, *ssclown. Stay out of my way if you want Sasuke to live to Shippuden! M'kay?


*Throws the duce’s, prances off half naked,... -and with all your sh*t!*
Because like you said in our first post together: Deadpool=Ninja. Okay, enough 4th wall sh*t, I’m really leaving now. Bye Marc! ^_^



“I found enough water to last us, yea, sure, and there was also a weapon in there, but I have it now, as my flamethrower is no longer of any use.” the youth replied to the King of the Dunes as he indicated to a blade he wore, sheathed on his back, it’s immense power contained within.

“I see, well, you look a mess. It must have gone as bad inside as out then, huh? Did you encounter someone who may be a threat to us?” the king questioned.

Suddenly, a vision of a brute, donned in technologically advanced armor flashed in Sasuke’s mind. The fierce warrior who had nearly killed the shinobi left a burning impression on him, as he’d only barely escaped his death by chance. Had the overwhelming explosion not blown the place to bits, he very well could be dead right now and he knew it. How was he supposed to slay Itachi if he couldn’t even survive the Abyss? Sasuke clenched his right hand tight in a fist, as his face, though it caused him pain in his jaw, contorted to an expression of anger.

“I did, but… you needn’t worry about him.” Sasuke said coolly as he turned from Gil and faced the sky, as if to face the audience of the tournament, his volume raising as he spoke, “Consider it another debt I owe. I meant what I said when I signed up, if violence is what you’re looking for, you had better keep those cameras on me, because I am just getting started!!!”

Gilgamesh seemed pleased with his newest member of New Babylon, because on his face he wore a menacing grin, hinting towards thoughts of a devious nature. Whatever the King of Sand had in mind for the Omniverse, it appeared as though he was getting that much closer to obtaining it!

“What of Jon Snow? I do not see my comrade?” Sasuke asked as he eyed the king suspiciously.

Gilgamesh lowered his head, expressing a genuine emotion of remorse as he confirmed Jon Snow’s death with a shake of his head. The energy that had been swelling within Sasuke due to his rage at the thought of Samus, suddenly, evaporated, emptying the youth and in its place, helplessness resonated deep within his soul. First Mami and now this?


No… First my family and my clan…. –And now this?! NO!!!... Screamed the youth in his mind’s eye.

“NO!!! NOT ANYMORE!!! YOU HEAR ME!!!” erupted the youth with a fearsome aura of azure hues surrounding and enveloping him as he shouted to the heavens.

Gilgamesh arched an eye brow at the Uchiha’s sudden outburst and studied the youth closely. Sasuke unsheathed his blade of legend, bringing a flare of lightning to his side as he kicked off from the ground, ripping dirt as he shot back into the forest. Gilgamesh, surprised but not unamused followed after the shinobi, “What are you doing, Sasuke?”

“We’re done with this. We won’t be hunted any longer. Now, we do the hunting!” and with that, the youth shot forward further, causing a smirk on the King’s face as he followed.

***

Sasuke and Gilgamesh came to a halt when the loud speaker crackled to life, announcing a new day had come to Murder Island. Their beloved host, Karl Jak seemed to be in a pleased mood,

Quote:"Rise and shine, sweethearts. We said farewell to these friends of ours over the course of the night.

#33 Jon Snow
#07 Blink
#20 Harry Dresden
#34 Erza Scarlet
#19 Ganondorf

"That was one bloody fight, and I'm certain one that people will be watching on the Dataverse for a while to come. But that was yesterday, and today is now... It's Day Four, and we're almost at the end of it.

"You want out? Kill each other. Kill your enemies. Kill your friends. This only ends in blood.

"Talk to you all in a few hours."

“Hmph!” was all the youth said as he kicked off, advancing in the direction they had previously been traveling, Gilgamesh in tow.





Karl Jak Wrote:
Face to Face
#27 Deadpool, #05 Gilgamesh, #43 Sasuke Uchiha & #13 Strazio Rockwell vs #09 Samus Aran & #21 Gildarts


Somehow, through some strange twist of luck, Samus Aran and Gildarts found one another amid the city’s border. Neither had made it through the last battle without their fair share of bruises, but neither of them had lost the fire in their eyes. They walked with silence, both favoring their injured limbs and neither wanting to be the first to stop to catch their breath or make sure they hadn’t torn anything else.

The silent march into whatever hells remained on the island for them lasted just a short while longer, until they turned down a new block and found themselves staring at Strazio Rockwell. The Defender of Darkshire, his body bruised and ravaged, clutched the plank of wood in his good hand and glared at the two warriors. They knew the look on his face—it was that same as the one on their face. He was going to come at them with everything that remained in his body, and they were going to retaliate with everything in their combined arsenal.

“Well lookie here,” a voice called out from behind the bounty hunter and her ally. They turned to see Deadpool standing behind them without the majority of his clothes. The merc-with-a-mouth grinned as he turned on half of his lightsaber and dug into his crotch for his pokeball. Behind him, Sasuke and Gilgamesh could be seen advancing toward the duo, but as the ninja ran ahead, his ally stopped walking. The gilded king coughed and dropped to a knee, his injuries getting the best of him.

Oblivious to what had just happened, Sasuke ran forward, his hands reaching for the Ultima Weapon as he approached the battle. By the time he was ripping out the handle and activating the chidori blade, Samus and Gildarts had broken apart. A flurry of flak ripped through the air, forcing a naked Deadpool backwards as he noticed the ninja rushing into battle. With a shrug, Deadpool itched as his crotch and watched the ninja with the lightning sword try to not get blown into little bits.

On the other side of the street, Strazio charged forward, his body exploding with white light as he dug deep into himself to find one final burst of strength and anger. The man lunged, swinging the 2x4 at Gildarts and catching the wounded prime in the side of the head.

With a growl, Gildarts swung the shield with his arm, bashing Strazio across the face and chest. Taking advantage of the lull, the taller of the two men threw his head back as his own glowing white lights surrounded his body. Lunging forward, Gildarts swung, his blow sailing high as his adversary dropped into a crouch and swung his plank. The piece of wood smashed into the other prime’s kneecap, shattering the bone.

Gildarts dropped down onto the broken joint and winced as Strazio reeled back on his plank. Before the Defender of Darkshire could strike, Gildarts, swallowing down his agony, shoved up off the ground. The shield dropped to the ground as he clenched his fingers into a fist and swung his hand up into Strazio’s chin. The impact released a blast of energy that threw Gildart’s adversary up into the air amidst a spiral of white energy. As the wounded prime watched, the energy faded, and Strazio landed with a dull thud atop a small building.

Was he dead? Was that white energy still surging from the rooftop residue from Gildarts’ magic or the glow that consumed the enraged Strazio? When he did the attack normally, Gildarts had always charged, building up momentum before landing the blow, but he had acted out of desperation this time.

Gildart’s rose to his feet and was about to ensure his opponent was defeated when the cylinder of crackled red energy punched out through his chest. Looking down at the lightsaber blade, the prime scowled as his eyes fell to the shield that lay on the ground beside him. I hope I served you well.

With a thud, Gildarts hit the ground, his eyes never leaving the standard of his leader as the light faded from his eyes. Above the body, a smiling Deadpool scratched as his lucky charm inside his boxers.

---

Sasuke lunged and swung his weapon down at Samus. The bounty hunter dove out of the way and retaliated with a blast of flak that caused the ninja to dive for cover. He hit the ground hard and felt fresh pain surge through his ankle. Samus could see it in the way her opponent winced, but before she could find her shot, bullets stared to rain through the air at her.

Diving away, Samus turned and saw the man in the golden armor limping toward their fight. Was he an idiot? The bounty hunter scrambled to her feet and fired at Sasuke. She wasn’t afraid of the ninja, who had proved in their last fight that was incapable of getting anywhere near her. All she had to do was time her shot and be done with it. The golden idiot shooting at her was going to complicate things and demanded her attention.

Firing once more to fend off the ninja, Samus moved at Gilgamesh, who was stumbling as he shot at her, his feet shaking as he stepped toward her. The bullets bit into the ground around the woman, but before she could squeeze off another round of flak, something closed around her hand. It was a purple snake that hissed and snapped at her face as it squeezed around the cannon. Biting through the pain of broken bones, she swung her claw plated fist, slashing across the creatures face. As its relaxed its grip, she tried to lift the cannon, but the whir of a chainsaw assailed her ears. The Lancer’s bayonet hit her arm above the gun and sawed through the flesh until the flak cannon hit the ground with the thud.

Instinct kicked in, and the missile racks popped up. In an instant of heat and fire, Gilgamesh was gone—his body a few yards in front of her. The golden armor was in broken pieces all around him, and his exposed body was shattered and unrecognizable as plumes of smoke wafted up from patches of still burning flesh. Samus turned from the fallen monarch and gasped as the blade of crackling electricity punched through her chest. She looked into the eye of Sasuke Uchiha. His bruised, scarred mouth was twisted in a scowl as he clenched the handle of his sword. Part of her was angry. But part of her didn’t blame him. He was simply playing out the role he’d been given when he was dumped onto this place.

She would never forget this island. She would never forget the person who had tricked her here. She would never forget the person responsible for the death of her friends.

Without an utterance of pain, Samus Aran fell to her knees as the sword left her body. She looked up one final time, her eyes burning holes through the ninja as she fell sideways to the ground.

Stumbling away from the woman’s body, Sasuke looked over and saw that Gilgamesh’s belongings were gone. A glimpse around showed no sign of the mercenary.

“Curse you,” Sasuke growled beneath his breath.

--

As the ninja departed, leaving behind the woman’s body, he failed to hear a nearby door creak open.

A man—bloody but alive—stumbled out and dropped to a knee as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes fell to the corpse of the man who had nearly been his undoing and the duffel bag that lay nearby.

[spoiler]
#21 Gildarts DEAD
#05 Gilgamesh DEAD
#09 Samus Aran DEAD

8 Primes Remain


Strazio Rockwell used Tier 1 Transformation Avatar of Anger (-1 SP)
Deadpool rolled a '2'

Strazio's jaw is broken -- Minor Injury (+2 Damage)

The 2x4 is broken
The Jetpack, Lancer, and Flak Cannon were destroyed

Deadpool steals Gilgamesh’s bag (Deadpony, Binocular, BFG ,Golden Dragon Egg)
Strazio receives the Vibranium Shield and Gunblade
Sasuke Uchiha receives the Mercy/Banishment Circle from Samus







*BOOM!*

The crackling sound of electricity enveloped the island as the sword of Kussangi impaled the bounty hunter. This time, death answered the call of a thousand birds because, without an utterance of pain, Samus Aran fell to their knees, blood pouring from the wound. Sasuke sheathed his Ultima Weapon just as the bounty hunter fell over on their side, and as Samus hit the ground, their helmet slipped off, rolling away.

Sasuke made a double take to make sure his eyes had not deceived him, “All that power… belonged to a woman…?”

An image of Mami flashed in his mind. The women of this world were strong... stronger than that of his own it seemed. This brought Sasuke solace, for after he had slain Itachi, he would need to restore his clan and fathering powerful clan needed powerful women. It seemed that it would prove no trouble at all… but none of this mattered, not with Itachi still breathing. He scowled at the thought. Restoring his clan couldn't happen, not before he claimed his vengence. No, he thought, not a second before!

Sasuke knelt down to Samus, folded her arms across her chest, and closed her eyes with his fingers, “Rest well, woman. You died with a warriors honor, as you deserved.”

The shinobi stood, cracked his neck, and pressed forward. In the grand scheme of things, this success meant nothing and there was still much work to do. Alone, Sasuke found his legendary, Sword of Kusanagi to be his only companion, but it mattered not to the youth as defiantly he faced the crowd again, “I am coming for you Itachi!!! Beware!!!"

His Ultima Weapon, unleashed and full of immense power, flared into life. Sasuke, engulfed by an azure illumination, flashed his famous Uchiha grin just before his expression turned cold and wild, "I AM THE LIGHT WITHIN THE ABYSS!!!”



...


PS: You're still an *ssclown.
Dante's Abyss 2015
   GRAND CHAMPION   
[Image: Sasuke_DA_zpsb4vizgxd.png]       
Mark Twain Wrote:"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."



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