Dante's Abyss - Registrations (IC) - Registrations end July 11th

[Gildarts]

“This is by far the shadiest thing we’ve EVER done Hackz.”


“Actually, you killing Jukalan was. She had her hands covered in totadline!” Two men alongside the droopy, unconscious auburn haired man bickered.


“Oops, we’re getting close. You better put that contraption on him.” Hackz pointed to the piece of metal in his ally’s hand. Together, they looked identical, they were wearing all-black, including ski masks, and their weapons were protruding from their pants. They looked like a comical version of ninjas. But my, were they loud.


Hackz’s friend, Meka, placed the metal frame along the man’s back and pressed the only button there was. Soon, a skeletal frame encompassed Gildarts’ body. “Hey, it worked!” Next, one of the two suited kidnappers procured a little device that looked like a game controller. With a few clicks, they got the fully asleep mage to walk on his own. “Bet he can walk easier with this than with his own busted leg!”


“Give me that! That’s not cool to say, Meka. Have some respect.” Hackz said as he snatched the controller out of Meka’s hand and fiddled with the controls. Soon, Gildarts was dancing, and doing the tootsie slide, all hung up by metallic rings that completely covered his body.


“Tch, jerk.” Meka snarked. “Also, somethin’ doesn’t look right about him, wouldn’t ya say?”


“His eyes are closed, Meka.” Hackz rolled his eyes. “Listen, we could say when we get there, that he’s blind?”


“Actually, I have a better idea.” Meka pulled his spare sunglasses out of his pocket and secured them on the old mage’s face. “Perfect! Now no one can tell his eyes are closed.”


“This’ll work like a charm. You think the old man’ll be proud of us?” Hackz said with a smile in his voice.


“Of course he will. Let’s do this.” Meka strode alongside Gildarts as Hackz manned the video game controller, walking the mage forward and nearly into the desk set up in front of their destination. A space vessel with a sign-up booth perched just outside.


“I’ll do the smooth talking.” Meka left Hackz in the dust and stood in front of the pair. “Hello, this gentleman would like to sign up for the game please.”


The booth attendants looked at the tall mage, beside the… Guy in disguise? Gildarts’ shoulders and head drooped forward. Sunglasses hung off of his face. His mouth was open. He let out a raging snore.


“Oh uh, this guy? What’s your name, sir?” The booth attendant asked.


Another snore. “Oh,” Meka chimed in, “He doesn’t talk much. His name is Gildarts.”


“And.. You’re certain you want to sign up? It isn’t a game like Meka said, but rather, a competition of survival. Are you okay with that?” The attendants asked.


The metal brace on Gildarts neck shook his head rigidly up, and then wobbly on its way down.


“Uh, okay, sign right here please.”


Meka froze. There was no way Gildarts could hold a pen. “Uh, he can’t write. He’s illiterate. Really embarrassed about it. Does he have to sign?”


The attendant looked at the fully disguised Meka and was aghast. “We run an upstanding and fully legal operation around here. You best teach him how to write or he’s not gonna go on that ship.”


“Uh… Alright.” Meka glanced back to the distance, where Hackz was hiding out. This better work. The abductor placed the pen in Gil’s hand and held up the clipboard as steady as possible. Then, he moved the clipboard around the lose pen. The line that came out looked barely like an uppercase ‘G’ followed by a long straight line and nothing else.


“Is that good enough?” Meka asked.


“Uh, I guess.” The attendant gazed at the paper with scrutiny. He had technically signed. “So, do you want to join too sir?”


“Oh absolutely not! I’m not trying to die!” Meka shouted. Causing Gildarts to snort, stirring with slight alertness.


The attendants blinked in synchrony and exchanged glances. “Uh, anyway, here’s the camera, show us what you’re bringing to the table to this year’s competition.”


The mage stood there, in front of the camera, snoring as his sunglasses fell completely off his face and revealed his closed eyes.


“Uh, anyway, I’ve got to be going. Bye!” Meka waved his hand overhead and ran out of there.


“What next?” Meka finally reached his partner.


“We set this thing on autopilot so it’ll do most of the walking and moving for him.” Hackz stated. “There’s a little camera in the front, so he won’t run into things.”


“And… That’s it?” Meka sighed with relief. “So what do you think he’s gonna do when he wakes up?”


“Oh, good thing we won’t be around for that. Veron will get his revenge, and we’ll be promoted with a lump of cash in our pockets. Let’s go.”

 

[Frieza]

Operations on Inverxe had been going smoothly for quite some time now.

The planet, despite appearing a simple hunk of ice from the surface, was actually a metaphorical gold mine--only, its riches were far greater than mere gold. Oil, natural gas, and all sorts of rare minerals invaluable for both economic and technological development. More than that, it was bustling with subterranean life, shielded from the planet's harsh atmosphere within the planet's labyrinthine volcanic caves. Though many of them were little more than pests intent on disrupting offworld mining operations, there were some who had been swayed to Frieza's side.

As for how Frieza himself fit into all this, it was a bit of a long story, but the short of it was this: one day, he'd found himself stranded on this (seemingly) barren ice planet, and through a combination of strength, intimidation, and business acumen, he was able to rise to the top of the ice moon's financial totem pole in short order. Though conquering it entirely, forming a new empire, was still a work in progress, the gears were in motion. Once Inverxe was under his command, he would move on to the other planets, one by one, until this universe, too, could fit in the palm of his hand.

Yet it wasn't enough.

It was hard for Frieza to put his finger on. Though he held no attachment to his home universe, there was still something that didn't sit quite right about all of this. He still had found no answers to the mystery of how he'd ended up here, or where "here" even was. Though he'd heard rumors of other universes back home, he got the sense this place was something else entirely. It was difficult to rule a universe he knew nothing about, and certainly it made him uneasy not knowing whether he was still the strongest in the universe--or, at least, top three.

It felt empty, like a fictional world isolated from everything he knew to be true, or starting a new save file in a video game. No matter what he did, there was always a nagging sense that he would never--could never--return to his former glory.

And that thought--when he let himself think it--drove him mad.

It was at this point that news of Dante's Abyss reached him.

"Extra, extra!" came the shrill voice of the crier. "Dante's Abyss seeking contestants! Partake in the coming of the Comet, prove yourself the strongest in the solar system! Fame, glory, and riches beyond your wildest dreams await the victor!"

Frieza was half-paying attention, not all that interested in glory for its own sake. Well, maybe more interested than he would outwardly admit, but certainly not enough to put his life on the line in a battle royale. There were other means of acquiring wealth and power. Maybe he'd find an underling to join in his stead, but truly talented fighters were hard to come by. Maybe if he still had the Ginyus, but as it was... his expectations weren't high.

The crier bobbed up to his side. "Hey, you, sir!" she said, all but shoving a pamphlet into Frieza's face. "You look strong! How about testing your strength in Dante's Abyss? Everyone will be watching, this is your chance to show your might to all beings in the solar system! And, of course, there will be fabulous prizes."

Frieza flinched away from the young Dwemer--he wasn't exactly fond of strangers so freely infringing on his personal space. He took the pamphlet in his thumb and forefinger, pocketed it, and said, "Thank you for the offer, but I have more promising prospects on the horizon as far as wealth and glory are concerned."

With that, he tried to walk away, but found his path blocked. "Oh, but you really don't!" said the crier, again treating his personal space like a free-for-all buffet, and Frieza wondered if anyone would mind if he just... shot her through the chest, right here, right now. "It's not just money on the line, you know! There are artifacts, too--artifacts of unfathomable power! You name it, we've got it! You could bring back the dead, gain the power to teleport across the universe, be crowned king of a forgotten empire, become immortal--"

Frieza's disinterest and irritation evaporated in an instant. "Oh? Now you have my attention."

--

How long had it even been since Frieza had done something so mundane as wait in line? He was so used to getting first dibs on whatever he pleased. Well, whatever. Rules were rules, and he could stomach a bit of awkwardness and impatience if it meant his dream--once thought impossible--becoming reality.

Eventually, he came to the front of the line, and was face-to-face with the bored Syntech employee.

She barely looked up at him as she handed him a paper from the stack. "Sign here, please."

He glanced over it. Nothing unusual, just the standard 'don't sue us if you die.' He signed, and handed it back to her.

"Alright, uhhh... Fry-za," she said. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Show us what you can do."

She gestured him to what looked like a circus ring. By this point, Frieza was already quite annoyed, both with the clerk's attitude and how pedestrian this whole affair was turning out to be.

He chuckled. "Oh, there will be no need for that."

He lifted an arm, and with a single gesture telekinetically tossed the desk up into the air. It crashed against the far wall and broke in two, scattering paper and stationery all across the room. Most of the debris was cluttered around the site of impact, but a few stray papers fluttered through the air. One was about to land on Frieza's head, but he vaporized it before it could settle.

The clerk was aghast, and very much paying attention to him now. "What the--"

Frieza laughed haughtily. "This should be a more than sufficient display, don't you agree?"

She scowled at him. "Alright, alright, sheesh! I get it! You're in! Go already! That way! Fucking hell!" She stood up, dusted herself off, glanced at the unmoving, bewildered queue, and muttered, "Like he's the only person in the goddamn room or something..."

A smile played at Frieza's lips, and he followed her direction to the next sign-up station. He was having fun already.

 

[Kayleigh Eudora]

Beams of light, like honey, break the dark clouds above the lands of Governmore. The mighty storm that grasped the biodome throughout most of the night came to an end. The scent of wet grass lingered in the morning air. The battered wooden door from a small structure, barely bigger than a shed, creaked open, exposing the insides to the first light of day. The warm rays found their way from the heavens and touched the skin of a woman emerging from shelter.

"It seems the gods bless this day with opportunity of travel." The stern voice of Kayleigh spoke in her native tongue as she stretched her limbs to the heaven, cracking cartilage in the process.

It has been two years since the events within the city of Ashport. In the attempt to get off planet she managed to get dragged into a conflict with several very unique individuals. Not being able to contain the flames she made quite the show in the middle of the city. A spectacle attracting unwanted attention from observing eyes. Eudora had no choice but to lay low yet again. Retreating to one of the more secluded biodomes she managed to travel the lands, avoiding the grasp of the men that hunt her. But now, the time of shadows have passed and it was time to find life and purpose once more.

Kayleigh collected what little possession she carried with her from the shedlike shelter. The bag she carries does not seem to contain much--traveling light was her preferred way of getting around. Within this particular biodomes public transportation was very minimal, not that the young woman minds. Kayleigh preferred her own two legs to carry her when the surroundings are this peaceful.

Near the end of the day clouds started to gather once more. The cog on which this biodome was located seemed to favor the darkness of the storm. Up ahead a small settlement appeared within sight, offering potential shelter for what was to come. With the first drops of rain falling from the sky the traveller hastened her pace. For obvious reasons she was not a fan. What little sunlight was left faded away as nighttime fell upon the cog. Dimmed lights from the settlement guided her way along her path.

The streets were all but empty, the villagers clearly sought and found shelter from the storm, Kayleigh would do the same. The signs guided her through the streets towards a local inn, she barely made it before it started pouring down. Heads turned when the young woman entered the establishment. The inn was not anything special-- a very ordinary decor with an even less flattering odour. To her left a reception was located, stationed by a rather neat young man, hair combed firmly to the back of his head combined with a constant soft smile on his face. To her right the bar area was ready to service the thirsty travellers. A few tables were set out in front of the bar, most of them occupied. A bright tv mounted on the wall displayed the commercial for a yearly competition which Kayleigh was all too familiar with.

"You! Bartender! Share with me the location of the nearest sign-up station."

The overweight man was nothing if not helpful, "Oh it's right on the town's square, you can't miss it. Though I fear you might be too late." Kayleigh did not linger, "Gratitude." She took her leave back outside, taking a quick and heavy pace towards town square, where she saw a drenched skinny man in official DA clothing.

"Halt! I wish to break words before you take leave."

A slender man, who was packing up his equipment turned around with a mild confused gaze in his eyes, "Excuse me? Who are you?"

"Word of contest reached ear, i seek to enter." The confident eyeing woman said with conviction.

"Well i'm sorry, you're a bit late ma'am" The DA employee said in a disinterested tone of voice "maybe next time" the man brushed off the situation without giving it a second thought. It was not the answer Eudora was looking for.

"Head words or see flesh melt from bones. You will press for urgency and guide me to opportuned path or not even the gods can help you." A flare covered the cursed woman's iris, sending a very unpleasant chill down the spineless employee's spine.

"Well you seem like a pleasant person, how can i refuse." He gathered a digital pad and handed it over to Kayleigh, "please fill in all these forms and i will contact my superior."

The brunette responded with a smile and extended hand, "Gratitude".

Eudora's gloved fingers danced across the pad, finishing the questionnaire as fast as possible. She was fully aware her request was pushing the rules, but the gods seemed to have favoured her today.

"It has been done." Kayleigh handed the pad back to the employee, "Now make haste."

The young man looked everything over, "everything seems to be in order, are you sure you want to go through with this?" The question was answered with a firm now. "Very well miss Eudora, I wish you best of luck. Godspeed."

Excitement overtook Kayleigh as she stepped on the teleportation pad, Dante's abyss awaits.

With her arrival at the comet she was met with a few confused looks, she barely made it. "Are you a contestant?"

"I am." Eudore responded slightly out of breath.

"We need to get you to the barracks right away!"

The fire maiden was then quickly guided to where she needed to go.

 

[Pecan]

So there your Ol’ pal Pecan was, standing in line for Multerra’s premier deathmatch. To be honest this was something of a dream come true. Ever since I was a young boy I dreamed of participating in the kind of bloodsport that only the incredibly wealthy and morally compromised could provide. Man, if only Mama Pecan could see me now. Well, she wouldn’t be proud, but she never knew what was good for me anyways. Still, to see the reaction on that old bat’s face while her son slaughtered his way to the top would have been priceless.

This is absolutely barbaric

HARMONY’s voice rang between my ears with her goody-two-shoes angelic choir of a voice. Honestly, what a buzzkiller. I get nice and hyped up for something and she has to come along blabbing about how murder was something less than virtuous. So naive. And believe you me, I tried my best to educate the poor little A.I. on the finer points in taking life, but she’d rather lecture me than live a little.

You’re not actually signing up for this are you?

Obviously she hadn’t been listening to the thoughts rattling around in my braincase for the past hour or so. After Rossi and I dug Nico out of the gullet of one of Cevanti’s many derelict factories we stumbled across a Syntech advertisement drone. The sleek robot blared the once in a lifetime event across the wastelands and the shrill din of its cry was hard to miss. Damn thing practically ran us over while espousing the wonders of Dante’s Comet. Needless to say HARMONY saw the event as little more than a savage dick measuring contest. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it gave me at least some sort of excitement to be sticking it to the angel in my head.

Nico seemed quite interested in the event too, and, hell, what more could you want out of a guy? The fact that he’d willingly enter into a rage cage with your boy Pecan was more than enough to call the guy a friend. Well, I don’t really have friends, but he is something like it. Besides, the kid ripped a christ air while hurtling in from the stratosphere, so I mean he already has more than enough cool kid points in my book.

At any rate, this is starting to ramble on. There I was standing in line, waiting to register for entry into the famous comet. Rossi had bowed out, saying something about fighting not really being her thing. Immediately after she lost what little cool kid points she did have. Though, she did offer to start looking for a ship for me, so I mean at least she isn’t a complete waste. Man, it’s a shame she didn’t join up, I would’ve loved to plant a hot one in her head.

I still won’t allow you to commit such heinous acts.

Oh HARMONY, sweet sweet HARMONY. How naive you are. Y’see Ol’ Pecan did his research. Not only do they drop you in an arena of death they fit you with a real slick collar. This collar dampens any supernatural or unusual technology. So, if my hunch is correct, and believe me my gut is about as honest as a compass, then whatever shenanigans your pulling in my head should cease to be. And, honey, you know what that means. It’s gonna be a bloody good time for your boy Pecan.

“Next entry!” A surly gentleman called out, snapping me from my thoughts.

With a grin and a smoke between my teeth I stepped up to the booth. The man eyed me up and down, he didn’t look like he was having a good day. Though, with the kind of mug that he had I doubt he ever had what could be considered a “good day”. He shuffled about some paperwork and turned on a nearby camera drone.

“Name,” He commanded, with the enthusiasm of a sedated bulldog.

“Pecan,” I answered, “No last name, just Pecan.”

“Well, ‘Pecan’, what do you bring to the competition?”

“Baby, I bring the motherfuckin’ ruckus,” I answered, taking a long drag of my smoke before continuing, “Can’t tell you I’m gonna win, but I sure as hell will bring an Arbiter-damned spectacle. Mark my words, Ol’ Pecan knows how to party, and this is gonna be one bloody fiesta.”

 

[Nico Cinder]

Nico's face was numb and his mind was reeling, which is generally the only way you can get him to wait in line anywhere, for any reason. As quickly as things were moving, as much information as poor Nico was being forced to process in such a small amount of time, he felt that he deserved a drink. Upon requesting this basic human decency, Nico unknowingly became a little closer to this psychopath he picked up from his crash site.

Nico heard voices occasionally, but this Pecan guy was something else, a different kind of crazy. Nico made it a point to associate himself with as few people as possible, and Pecan was a decent example of why. He's a whackjob, sure, but the fun kind, which makes ongoing contact with the guy all the more dangerous for so many different reasons. One thing he did come to admire in his new "friend", was their uncanny ability to produce alcohol from seemingly fucking nowhere.

"Kid," Pecan began with a very brotherly, very aggressive slap on the back, "I have so much to show ya."

That was some time ago, before Nico had blinked once or twice and literally signed his life away once or twice In less than 24 hours. Or something like that, because if he was being perfectly honest with himself, Nico had virtually no sense of time before selling his soul, so there's no telling how long he'd been...here. And he didn't even wanna begin to think about where "here" is.

Ah-

Ah fuck. Dammit. Now he's gone and confused himself thinking about it, trying to explain or rationalize these things out as if he had an audience in his head. What a concept that is.

"Yo! Next up, let's get this over with."

His first impulse upon having his reverie interrupted was to mutter some easy cheesy shit about rushing perfection, but decided to act with a bit of grace in this moment. Nico remembered having a pen and clipboard at some point, but did not quite recall what was on the documents he signed, the forms he filled out. Truth be told, after a literal pact with the literal devil, most nefarious contract signings just can't live up to his expectations anymore.

"Name?" Asked the unfortunate corporate drone. Even in the 'afterlife' Nico couldn't escape capitalism, which he felt was the killing joke in his epic saga. He's not even sure if corporations operate under the same pretenses here or not, but he has a poor taste in his mouth about it anyways.

"Nico...uh..Nico Cinder," The groggy boy replied with a short burp that tasted unpleasantly like sourmash whiskey.

"Huh. Spooky. Well, Nico Nico Cinder-"

Nico visibly cringed upon hearing his name out loud as "Nee-ko Nee-ko".

"What makes you so special? What are you bringing to the table in this year's deathshow?"

Nico was caught a little off guard by the question, as if he had forgotten that it was a competition he was here for. His eyes drifted down to the skateboard clutched in his arms, catching sight of the brand inscription: Occedia. Fading light, or something like that. He's not sure how he knew that. Dark wavy locks flop in front of the boy's eyes as his head tilts down to get a better look of the craftsmanship.

"A fucking skateboard, I guess. A bottle of Jack Daniels, if they let me."

The clerk gave him a withering look, to which Nico just shrugged. "Hey man, I don't even know if I'm alive right now. Figured this would be a good test of that, win or lose. Who knows, maybe I'll get a guitar out of it. I've gotten guitars for really stupid reasons before. Speaking of which if you see a guitar, I want it, bring that shit to me. Please."

The only sound Nico makes for quite some time after that was the slurping of his beverage.