She stared into the city from her perch within a great flowering cherry tree, eyes narrow, muscles tense.
It was too far to make anything out, really. But she was counting down the moments until the bloodbath began in safety, her hair a carpet of pink blooms that hid her from view. Being within the city when the buzzer rang may have been an advantage, but at the same time, there was little incentive for her in particular to do so. Yuuka was not a master of traps, nor was she a master of going fast. Likely someone had already taken up the closest position, and frankly, she wasn’t about to be forced to retreat before the real fight began.
No. She was here for a good time, not a long one. Every moment the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, her blood boiled and bubbled over with excitement.
The finger she held over the trigger on her collar itched.
Hell, she didn’t even really care what the special little item present even was. Knowing Karl, it may well have been a bottle of lukewarm Coca Cola just to spite her. After all, he was a cruel and unjust god. She was just interested for the chaos of it all- the heart-throbbing climax, as her advertisers would say.
”Unfortunately,” she chuckled to herself, using her free hand to fill up one of her “weapons” with the sharp stones she had collected earlier, ”I’m about to make things unsafe for daytime television.”
A breeze of cold wind blew past Kayleigh's cheek, leaving her skin with goosebumbs. Even though fire was both her closest ally and worst enemy, it did not protect her from the cold. Her eyes were focussed on the boiling water in Victor's homemade pot. There was a soothing side-effect to watching the water boil, preparing whatever her companion wishes to call this. Seeing as a campfire was out of the question right now the fire maiden was reduced to a mere stove. But it was best to stay hidden from sight.. for now. Eudora's head was still pounding from their encounter with the others. For the first time in her life she fought individuals with strong abilities like herself. The warrior within her was burning with excitement, the rational side, not so much.
For a while blissfull silence graced the duo with it's presence. Providing them both with a moment to reflect on the encounter they recently survived. Victor porved himself to be a smart and capable warrior. A reassuring feeling was born from this encounter that he wasn't completely useless. Though this place itself was starting to get to her. The air itself began to feel like a cage around her, unable to flee or break free of her restraints.
It was the assasin the first broke the peacefull moment, "C'mon now, give me a little smile. Brooding people aren't good company, trust me, I've spent my time with plenty"
"My smile was taken long ago. Stripped from me when this curse grabbed hold." The dark reply lingered above her like a dark cloud.
The assasin let out a long sigh and got up, taking the stew from Kayleigh. As he stirred in the pot he continued the point he was trying to make, "Brooding warriors, cursed people, orphans, caped crusaders, homicidal babies, uptight swordsmen, kings with godcomplex, trust me when I say I've seen and met plenty of individuals, each with their own baggage. For some it's origin, others heritage and in your case a curse. You ain't unique or the only one with problems kid, stop sulking and embrace it." He followed up his powerful statement with a slurping taste of his dish,"Hmm not bad, could've used some more salt." Eyes shifted towards Kayleigh.
The always vocal brunette was left speechless for a moment. Processing what just happened took longer than expected, no one ever talked to her like that before. It was either trying to hunt, kill or hide to protect her. These confronting words hit Eudora like a truck, as if a veil of ignorance was lifted.
"You break words like a politician, but they are well received." The fire maiden replyed eventually, "Truth may be hidden amongst them."
The unlikely duo endured the rest of their meal in silence, with the occasional very direct and focussed stare from Victor. Having their stomachs filled, they prepared to continue their journey on Karl Jack's playground.
Suprisingly fast reflexes kicked in when Victor threw something towards his new found partner, "Hey, catch!" Kayleigh plucked the object out of the air. In her hand was now a rabbitsfoot covered in blood. "It's for luck." Victor said, "if we are going to see this thing through we are going to need lady luck by our side aswel." The assassin managed to hide the fact he had saved a piece of the critter for her.
The woman's eyes were fixed on the piece of dead fur in the palm of her hand, and sprouted a soft smile. Perhaps, maybe, just maybe, somewhere burried very deep…Victor Wolfe might be a decent human afterall. Kayleigh placed the dead animal's limb in her pocket for safe keeping. The journey continued.
Okuyasu’s brief expression of fear was like heroin to the Golden King. Gilgamesh hasn’t seen genuine terror in such a long time, and it was exhilarating. However, the young adversary vanished, but not before leaving behind a few souvenirs. Gilgamesh couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Mickey, however, brought the Golden King back to reality with a prolonged stare. The Golden Monarch erected himself, deactivated the lightsaber, and lazily tossed it to the mouse. Mickey seemed too distracted and let it plop onto the ground inches in front of him.
“Avert your gaze, mouse,” Gilgamesh decreed. He furrowed his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes. While the rat was useful, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand Mickey’s awkward gawking.
Mickey snapped out of his trance and struggled to stifle laughter. He wasn’t very successful. Mickey ended up doubling over in giggles, eventually curling up in the ground. The mouse wheezed and chuckled like a hyena. Gilgamesh’s eyelid twitched in frustration.
“You will cease this at once! Your King demands it,” Gilgamesh ordered. His hands balled up into fists. If he still had the lightsaber he would slice the little mongrel in half.
The little king took a deep breath, breaking the cacophony of laughter. “Your hair, Gilly,” he managed to gasp before the giggles consumed him once more.
Gilgamesh shot his hand up to his head, feeling around for something wrong. The sides of his hair seemed fine. He slowly felt around, getting closer to the top of his scalp, and then he felt it. Or rather, didn’t. His luscious locks were gone. Instead of feeling his silky hair, he felt the prickly stubbles of and bare skin of his freshly ‘shaven’ head.
“What is this?” Gilgamesh asked, fully knowing what the answer was.
Mickey began to calm down, letting out one or two wheezes before answering. “Looks like that weirdo gave you a stylish new ‘do!”
The King of Heroes felt his blood boil beneath his skin. “That insignificant mongrel dared lay a finger on me!” he shouted into the sky. “Argh!” he cried out as he kicked the grass in front of him.
“Woah there,” Mickey raised his hands, trying to calm the angry blonde. “That grass didn’t do anything to you, pal,” he said as if he were trying to reason with a wild animal. Gilgamesh turned his rage towards the mouse, with a terrifying scowl. He aggressively strode towards the Mouse King.
“Hey there, bud, I didn’t do anything either,” the small mouse cheeped. Gilgamesh didn’t seem to care. He just wanted to take out his rage on something, anything. Mickey darted his eyes around the ground, looking for some way to appease the furious King before settling his gaze on the lightsaber. “ I can fix it though,” he quickly exclaimed. This stopped Gilgamesh in his tracks.
“I doubt you have the ability to return my hair,” Gilgamesh seethed between clenched teeth.
“No, but I can even it out,” the mouse said, picking up the lightsaber at his feet. He mimed the clipping motion with his enormous, gloved fingers.
“Not a chance,” Gilgamesh hissed, shaking his head.
“You wanna walk around looking like a weirdo?” Mickey probed, raising a brow. Gilgamesh pondered for a moment, before frowning and calmly sitting on the ground. He motioned for Mickey to come forth.
“If you even think about---” the Golden King was interrupted.
“Shut up, King of Pals” the Mouse King piped in, turning on the saber. He brought it over Gilgamesh’s head and began to carefully cut his hair. The King of Heroes smirked.
“I thought you didn’t swear, mouse,” he teased.
“I save it for special occasions,” Mickey said back with confidence.
“Good morning, Ladies and Gentlepr—persons.” Thumb temporarily off the button, Karl scowled at his reflection in the glass screen for a moment before returning to his spiel. “It’s a sunny day on the island, and there’s a prize falling down to the most worthy of hands. I look forward to that action.
“But first… let us pour one out for the fallen:
#10 Malloki
“May he enjoy five minutes of rest before his adventures take him elsewhere. Now then, let’s toss in some dangerzones to keep you all on your feet:
E1
B9
J6
I2
H4
“Those will activate at dusk, so unless you want to join the ranks of the dead, I suggest you leave those areas before then.
Until then, I wish you the best of luck. Smooches.”
Out-of-Karl Bulletins
For those who don’t quite understand military time, this phase lasts from 12 in the afternoon until 6 PM, at which point the sun will be setting
The next batch of Power Rankings will come at the end of Day 1 (so sometime during the ‘Evening’ phase is what I hope, but you know me, they might come out early the next morning – things are volatile now that all the chaos is live)
Rules change (I edited the DA Rules page accordingly): “Face to Face ‘Cooldown’ - After a Face to Face, all surviving participants have a ‘cooldown’ period of 12 8 OOC hours where they will be safe from a Face to Face if someone else enters their square. This cooldown is cancelled if you exit the square. This cooldown can be waived if you are actively searching out more enemies.”
Face to Face
#13 Yuuka vs #03 Mickey Mouse & #05 Gilgamesh vs #25 Pecan vs #06 Ashe-0 & #07 Roy MustanG vs #14 Suwako Easter Egg: The Malefactor
In various universes and pocket realities across the multiverse, there always seemed to be a File Island. Some might call it a sort of ‘dimensional anchor’ that served as but one of many different types of similar occurrences that linked the wider network of occasionally overlapping realities.
An asshole mercenary might tell you that it was just because some nerds had a childhood adoration for digital monsters.
Either way, File Island existed, and near its center, in the shadow of the much beloved Mount Infinity, there was File City. Sometimes a village and sometimes a prospering mini-metropolis, the city was always there in one form or another.
On this day, the city that was—in various realms—home to refugees and would-be digital heroes would find itself home to something of terribly ill intent.
The Syntech gunship seemed to materialize from nowhere above File City, and once the crew had knocked the heavy capsule out the aft hatch, said whirlybird was quick to vanish from whence it came. With an unimposing thud, the metallic case that housed the easter egg crashed through the roof of the city’s gym strangely extravagant gym. The impact blew out every single window in the building as the package crashed through two floors and came to a rest at the bottom of a swimming pool on the ground level.
Pecan, who had already been lurking in the city following Karl’s lovely message a few hours prior, watched the descent with a grin on his lunatic visage. “I think it’s time to open my Christmas present.” Walking casually through the ruins of the gym’s front doors, he paid a cursory glance to the assortment to knocked over ellipticals and treadmills as he made his way toward the rear of the structure. After having to hop over some jumbled rowing machines, he hopped the shattered glass door that led to the pool, and his wide eyes fell upon the capsule resting at the bottom of the shallow end. The pill-shaped device was a little bigger than a microwave, and it was calling his mother fucking name!
Hopping into the pool, Pecan yanked the capsule free from the small indendtation it had made on the concrete floor, and paying zero attention to the now widening cracks, he swam back up to the surface.
“What do we got here?” He spoke as he began to whistle. His fingers started to tap around the device as he sought some type of clasp or something else that would crack open the high-fangled storage pill.
“Drop the pill!” A high-pitched voice cried out.
Pecan lifted his eyes and saw that he was being threatened by a mouse with a laser sword.
“Is Pecan tripping balls? Is this shit hallucinogenic?” He asked as the anthropomorphic cartoon animal scowled at him. Even if the mouse looked ridiculous, the scintillating sword he held in his gloved paw was anything but absurd.
“No, but I think it’s time for you to… chill out.”
The man who was still crouched over the pill turned and saw that a man in golden armor with a stupid haircut was threatening him with what appeared to be a gun that was sputtering snowflakes from its barrel.
“I’m not sure if I want to laugh at your pun or the fact that it looks like a child gave you a buzzcut.” The crouched man wrapped an arm around the pill as his attention shifted to a broken window back through the main room of the gym. He knew these streets well enough from spending the morning here…
“I am a king, I do not ‘pun’!” Gilgamesh roared as he yanked the trigger of the freeze ray.
Pecan was gone before the blast flash-froze the tiles where he had been crouched. Usually not once to run from the violence, the man knew he had to crack the safe in his hands to get the advantage.
Plus, he knew these streets. He knew what was lurking on Agumon Drive.
“Don’t lose him, Gilly!” Mickey shouted as the child-sized mouse started to scamper over the wreckage of exercise equipment to reach the other side of the gym’s main room.
“That’s a negative.” A stern voice replied as four muscular hands wrapped around Gilgamesh’s waist and plucked him off his feet. A beat later, the King of Pals was sinking to the bottom of the pool as a large shadow fell over him.
Mickey heard the commotion, but when he turned to help, he saw a man in a fancy military uniform rushing toward him. Roy Mustang had scooped up a curling bar on his way across the gym, and while he didn’t seem to have any other weapons tucked on his person, Mickey knew that the prize at hand was slipping through his comically oversized fingers.
“Catch me if you can!” The mouse shouted before throwing the nearest one-pound dumbbell he could find at Roy’s face. The military officer sidestepped the tiny projectile, tilted his head for a fleeting moment, and pursued the talking rodent out into the streets.
***
Gilgamesh had barely taken a moment to pinch his mouth closed when the giant form dove down onto him. Heavy yet strangely feminine hands clenched his waist as a second set of fists swung his face. The pool turned a light shade of red in front of the monarch’s face before he cast aside intelligent thoughts and simply pulled back on the freeze ray’s trigger.
Focused as she was on reducing the man’s facial bones to something less solid, Ashe-0 didn’t spot the flash of light until the pool had already been frozen solid.
Fortunately for the pair of encased warriors, the structural integrity of the pool had already been grossly compromised, and the whole thing proceeded to collapse into the sewers that ran beneath the town. On impact, the oversize icecube shattered apart, and the chunk that contained the robot and the gilded monarch skipped once before landing in the central sluiceway and carrying the pair of popsicles through a wonderful river of digital refuse.
His head free from the ice but his body still entombed, Gilgamesh glared at the android. “I will kill you for this, I hope you know that.”
***
Pecan grinned as he rushed down the street. His eyes were focused on the capsule, but his mind, even if it was mostly filled to the brim with fantasies of murder and carnage, knew the layout of File City enough that he wouldn’t get lost. In fact, he was certain he had gained a minute or so over the mouse. Who sends someone with short legs to chance a fully grown psychopath? That mouse’s dad was an idiot.
“There it is!” He shouted as he came to a stop at the north end of Agumon Drive. His finger found the slightest little piece, and with some degree of caution, he slid the piece all the way around the equator of the capsule. It was some type of sliding lock, because once he had traversed the case, the top half popped off with the loveliest pneumatic hiss.
“I’ll need that now,” a female voice shouted from the other end of the street.
The man hadn’t yet looked at the prize when he looked up to see another undersized thing straight out of a fever dream. This one was a… little girl? Nah, there was some shit that was all weird about her. This was Karl Jak’s little playground, and Pecan doubted that there were any actual little girls running around here in their school uniforms.
“Come again?” Pecan laughed as the figure crept down the street toward him.
“Don’t make me hurt you,” the girl had her hand in her duffel bag. She could have anything from a squirt gun to a live grenade, but it made no difference to Pecan.
“You should know that my mamma always taught me to be ready,” Pecan chuckled as he pointed to the ground at the girl’s feet.
Suwako looked down just in time to see the spider mine burst out of the concrete and latch onto her chest.
The girl, alive because there was no way in hell she was just a little girl, flew backwards and crashed into a dumpster. Pecan eyed the bag that still hung from her shoulder, but before he could claim it, he heard the footfalls of oversized shoes on the pavement behind him.
“Son of a bitch,” the man muttered as he turned around. Behind him, a partially conscious Suwako slipped down into the ground before fading completely into the black. “Do you at least bleed ink or something?” He asked as he grabbed the item inside the capsule. With his other hand, he tossed the bottom half of the metal case at his opponent.
Mickey sliced the capsule bottom apart with the lightsaber as he rushed forward. Without hesitation, he stabbed the lightsaber into Pecan’s abdomen.
“Well fuck you too, rodent!” Pecan groaned as he drove an elbow into Mickey’s face. The mouse fell backwards and couldn’t move fast enough as the man’s boot crashed down onto his right hand. A yelp escaped the mouse’s throat as his attack reared up for another strike.
At that moment, Roy Mustang came bulldozing in, swinging for the fences with his curling bar.
Pecan went crashing into an adjacent storefront, and as his feet left the ground, his hands lost their grip on the prize—his prize!
Mickey shot out his good hand and grabbed the falling glass canister. He was gone as Roy pursued Pecan through the shattered glass front of a candy store.
“Hand it over!” The officer demanded as he stood over the fallen man.
“You’re not that bright, are you?” Pecan chuckled as he showed both of his empty hands. “We just got bamboozled by a fucking mouse.”
Roy swallowed a curse as he left behind the now-laughing maniac, but by the time he had exited Agumon Drive, Mickey Mouse was nowhere to be seen.
***
One street over, the mouse had slipped into a grocery store.
“I think I lost those fellas,” he muttered as he tucked the heavy container under his shoulder and passed the lightsaber into his working hand. “Now I just need to find Gilgamesh…”
“Where’s your help at this time, Little Mouse?”
The calm voice came from the soda aisle, and with a lot of mixed emotions, Mickey turned his head and saw a familiar woman leaning against a cardboard cutout of herself in a patent-pending PepsiCo suit.
“Yuukey Kazuky?!”
The green haired woman wore the faintest of smiles on her face as she pushed away from the cardboard decoration. All she seemed to have in her hands was a can of soda. “Mickey Mouse.” She replied. “It seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same?”
“A’yup!” Mickey declared, letting the joy of seeing someone he recognized wash over him. “How did you get here?”
“Long story,” she replied brusquely. “And I apologize, but I’ll need whatever trinket Karl has given you.”
“Oh no… you too?” The mouse asked as his expression sagged into one of sadness.
“It’s not personal,” Yuuka replied. “But it is business.”
With that, she chucked the can of Pepsi at the mouse’s head. Mickey ducked as the can crashed into the wall behind him and erupted and splashed bubbling, brown deliciousness all over his back. The woman, who suddenly had more cans in her hands, was quick to press her advantage. A second can caught Mickey in the gut, and a third careened off the side of his head before exploding like the world’s most diabetic grenade.
Collapsing, Mickey heard the case ting on the tiled floor and roll away from him. Activating the lightsaber, he scampered up to his feet and wiped away the stain of Pepsi from his eyes. “Can’t we be friends?” He demanded as he stepped between Yuuka and the canister.
“I’ll let you walk away,” she asked as she started to juggle three cans of Pepsi. Mickey wasn’t about to ask her where the heck she learned that trick. “I think we owe each other as much, right?”
“I need whatever that thingamajig is, Yuuky.”
“Then we have to accept the consequences,” she replied, sounding like the world’s most disappointed school teacher as she launched another series of projectiles at the mouse.
This time, Mickey dodged backwards, but as he did, he knicked the nearby shelves with the lightsaber. It was a nice, clean cut that allowed even the child-sized mouse to get topple said grocery shelves onto Yuuka, who let out a yelp before she was buried beneath an avalanche of bottled and canned sodas.
“I really am sorry, Yuuky!” Mickey shouted over the thunder of metal cans as he scooped up the canister and ran for the exit of the grocery store.
Bursting out through the back doors, the mouse managed to push the nearby dumpster in front of the exit (wheels are a blessing) and escape into the closest open window.
After rummaging around in the dark for a few seconds, he found a switch that turned on a single, overhead light. In the glow of the dim fluorescent bulb, he lifted up the glass canister and saw, for the first time, what his ‘prize’ was. Memories flashed back into his head.
And not the jolly type.
“Oh… fuck.”
28 Contestants Remain
Mickey Mouse (and Gilgamesh, technically speaking) have won the Easter Egg. Expect a PM shortly.
All participants will be teleported back to their original squares by the collars. Alliances DO NOT need to be reconfirmed with me.
Suwako’s leg is shattered and will need to be splinted to let her walk/get around normally (Major Injury)
Pecan has a nasty yet cauterized laser stab wound (a Minor Injury)
Mickey’s right hand is broken, because I’m sure that’s some type of hand-based karma (Minor Injury)
Gilgamesh and Ashe-0 will smell of digital feces until such a time that they bathe (Story ‘Injuries’)
Yuuka has some dismissible blunt injuries on her body and will smell like a variety of diabetes-inducing colas for a period of time (Story Injury)
Roy Mustang used one application of Focus (see note on Ashe-0)
Ashe-0 used one application of Focus (see note on Goldie)
Gilgamesh used one application of Focus (For clarity, this was the reason why you all received no Injuries in this scene)
"I can't believe you let her get away! If I knew you were going to be this incompetent, I would have just killed you myself. In fact… I might just do that now."
The Galactic Tyrant was in a foul mood, standing over his newest 'underling' with arms crossed and tail lashing. For his part, Deadpool was too busy nursing his tender giblets to pay Frieza much mind.
So focused on one another, neither noticed the pair of yellow eyes staring intently at them from a nearby shrubbery. Hands shaking, Toga bit her lip to quell the murderous intent rising within her. She wanted to kill them. To watch the life fade from their eyes. It was practically killing her to not just rush out from hiding and end them.
But, that little… thing was dangerous. The murder loli knew another run-in with that dynamite would put her down, and then she'd never get to see Frieza bleed. So, for now, she simply slinked away through the underbrush, careful to avoid jostling her tender arm.
Leaving the mansion had been a wise decision, she felt. Not for any reason she could explain, but just what a human would call a...'gut feeling'. The creeping, gnawing feeling that something would have gone terribly wrong had they stayed.
Of course, it also served to thrust them out into the open, and forced a quick hike back through the chilly mists of the early-morning graveyard. Not a pleasant experience, but one that was thankfully passed quickly. In little time, they had made it out onto the dusty ground of the cliffs, leading back into the jungle and ravine. Neither of those were their destination now, however; for the moment that was simply finding a place to wait until the appointed noon hour drew near.
"What do you suppose our chances of actually winning this little...special prize our wonderful host mentioned are?" Mustang questioned after some time.
"I am not programmed to calculate the odds of such a thing," she said quietly. "Until I know who else will be drawn in by the temptation."
"So about as good as our chances of anything else here, then." He sighed heavily. "Wonderful..."
"At the least we may get some idea of the relative capabilities of any other competitors who choose to partake," the android noted. "A powerful weapon in its own right."
"....true enough."
* * *
After the chaotic encounter within File City, the war machine and the military man returned to whence they had been. Ashe lay sprawled on her back in the dust, covered in a patchwork profusion of icy chunks, and a disgusting assortment of all manner of digital refuse and bodily waste.
"....why do you look like you went through a frozen sewer?" was all Mustang could muster up as a question upon seeing the state of his ally.
"Because I was frozen and then fell into a sewer," came the humorless answer. "Contestant number five. Gilgamesh. He appears to be armed with some sort of freeze ray. We were both frozen in the pool. It was compromised and gave way." She tilted her head, single large eye slowly shifting to look at the Major. "Were you successful in attaining the item of interest?"
".....well, phenomenal luck on your part." He gave a grimace. "But unfortunately, no. I ended up chasing down the wrong target, and it got away."
"Unfortunate." And Ashe would just proceed to haul herself upright, rising up to stand and picking the lingering icy debris off of herself. "We should proceed, and not remain in place here. And while I have currently disabled my olfactory sense, being covered in filth is not pleasant."
"Where to, then?" The soldier grinned, sticking his hands into his pockets again. And wisely choosing not to comment on the abundant sewer-stink permeating the air around the amazonian android.
"There is a river not far from here." And she immediately set off at a steady pace. "That will be the first stop."
"Guess a little cleanup wouldn't be a bad thing." The Major unzipped his duffel bag and fished out his copy of the map to look it over, carefully tracing a line with his finger to plot out their path. "Looks like there might be a couple places nearby we could use for shelter, too." And he turned to look up at her. "Catch a little sleep, and maybe eat something."
Ashe's expression didn't shift at all. "Agreed." She didn't require any sustenance or rest in that manner, but some time to let her energy reserves recover and not be constantly pushed by the stress of repeated travel and combat encounters would be wise. "I will keep watch, when we find a suitable location. You may rest for a short time."
Mickey Mouse was sitting in the grand foyer of a haunted mansion, one hand mangled and the other precariously holding a Sith Lord’s lightsaber. A few feet in front of him, the nefarious, alien creature responsible for holding his body and soul hostage a few years back wriggled and squirmed inside its sleek sci-fi cage. Needless to say, this was not a scene anyone expected; least of all, the mouse king.
The Malefactor barely fit inside the glass cylinder, bumping and thrashing against the metallic end caps with the fury of the scary, green man who’d hosted it before. Tentatively, the mouse crawled towards it, dropping the saber and reaching out for it with his good hand. His gloved fingers edged closer to tapping the glass when suddenly, a face flashed into view and howled at top of its… uh, lungs?
Mickey let out a yelp and scrambled back, pushing himself off his feet and almost into the air from sheer terror. Behind him, he heard a whoosh-ing sound that released another scream from his tiny mouse throat and ran smack into the freshly-teleported form of Gilgamesh, knocking both of them to the mansion’s rotting, hardwood floor.
“Dammit,” Gilgamesh muttered, “remove yourself from me, mouse.”
Mickey’s nose wriggled as he blinked and removed himself from his inadvertent cuddle sesh with the King of Heroes. “Um, gladly,” he frowned, “you smell like absolute doo-doo, bud.”
Gilgamesh roared and launched an arm at the mouse, smacking him across the floor. Mickey rolled out of the blow and looked up to see his golden-armored ‘ally’ approaching the Malefactor’s case. Eyes going wide with fear, the mouse king held out an open palm; his lightsaber flew from where it lay on the ground into his hand and hummed to life. The noise called Gilgamesh’s focus back to the mouse as he stood back up.
The tyrant glared at the battle-ready mouse, and scoffed, leveling the freeze ray at his long-running adversary. “Betraying me already, rodent?” he hissed. “This must be some prize.”
Gilgamesh moved for the Malefactor again, but stopped in his tracks as the freeze ray slipped from his fingers and soared across the foyer into Mickey’s broken hand. He winced as he closed his fingers around it, dropping to one knee but keeping the ice gun aimed at his would-be companion. The King of Heroes looked back at him incredulously.
“You have some nerve,” he growled.
“Stay away from the weird alien thingy and we won’t have any problems,” Mickey grunted through gritted teeth.
They stood for a few seconds like this, the two kings once again reveling in just how difficult this partnership was proving to be. Nothing between them was natural, and every moment grew more and more volatile. Mickey didn’t know if they were a powder keg waiting to blow or if this was more of a ‘the night was darkest just before the dawn’ type of situation.
Gilgamesh had never been his friend, and probably never would be. He’d hated the other monarch for years, and he’d be hard pressed to say he liked him at all now. Yet he’d grown to respect his unlikely ally in recent times. Somewhere, deep underneath the gold-plated exterior, he believed a good person existed who did bad things for the sake of the people he loved and protected.
Mickey could work with that.
As he readied his lightsaber and aimed the freeze ray, he knew he might be about to find out that he was very wrong. The Malefactor was nothing to be trifled with, and in the hands of someone like Gilgamesh — someone who flirted with darkness more than occasionally — it could be incredibly dangerous.
The King of Heroes took a deep breath, and crossed his arms, defeated. Relief filled Mickey’s three-foot-tall body and he tentatively lowered the saber and ray gun.
If he was wrong about Gilgamesh, he wouldn’t find out yet.
“Alien?” Gilgamesh repeated, looking again at it. “Is that… what this thing is?”
“Not totally sure,” Mickey shrugged. “All I know is it sunk its teeth in me and turned me into a real nasty fella when I had a run-in with it a few years back.”
“But stronger,” Gilgamesh mused.
Mickey scowled. “No, Gilly,” he shook his head. “We can’t.”
The bald king’s expression flared into one of pure, unbridled annoyance, but he didn’t argue. “Fine,” he said, waving a hand and walking away from the canister. “It’s repulsive, anyway.”
Mickey slid the freeze ray over to Gilgamesh and took a few steps toward the Malefactor. “I don’t know… I think it’s kinda cute,” he shrugged, grabbing his duffel bag from nearby and unzipping it. He couldn’t see the gilded king’s face, but he was sure the young man didn’t agree with that assessment.
As the mouse stuffed the trapped alien creature in his bag, an idea popped into his head.
“Maybe we should name it!” he squeaked. “How ‘bout Bryan? He looks like a Bryan!”
Face to Face
#13 Yuuka & #20 Doomguy vs #27 Jason Voorhees
Removed from the run-in at the market, Yuuka found herself emerging from a jaunt through some smaller hills. In front of her, the landscape rolled downward and housed a moderately sized lake. Beyond the lake, there was a dense forest that eventually led to the foothills of ‘Mount Infinity.’
“Quaint,” Yuuka muttered as she started down the slope toward the lake.
chh chh chh … ahh ahh ahh …
“Not a chance.” The woman spoke softly as she turned to make sure no one was creeping up on her.
CHH CHH CHH … AHH AHH AHH …
She spun.
Jason Voorhees was standing at the edge of the lake. In one hand, he held a machete, and in the other, he had some sort of weapon that didn’t seem to fit the killer’s … genre?
The burst of energy from the Proto Buster exploded in the ground next to Yuuka, snapping her out of the momentary fugue state as she broke into a run toward the silent behemoth. Thoughts of vengeance for her co-sponsor started to swirl around in her mind as she closed the distance. She dodged a second burst, and a few moments later, she casually sidestepped a third. Feeling as if she had figured out the timing on the device, Yuuka started to sprint as quickly as her middle-aged frame would carry her.
She made it nearly within striking range when Jason switched the full-auto feature of the buster. Pellets of energized plasma crashed up along her side, and her momentum came to a screeching halt as she crashed to the ground a few inches from the shoreline.
“Damn it,” the woman groaned as she rolled over onto her back. There was a massive shadow over here, and at this distance, she could see the dark, soulless orbs behind the hockey mask. “You should finish it while you have the chance, you fuck.”
The Proto Buster flared to life, but before the release of death could come, the light in the weapon faded abruptly. A moment later, the behemoth’s arm collapsed into the ground next to her.
Turning, Jason tilted his head at the sight of a manic marine with a large sword standing behind him.
“I’m going to enjoy ripping your inside out,” Doomguy seethed as he stepped forward and stabbed the Masamune through Jason’s gut.
Instead of a scream or the delicious outflowing of blood and viscera, Doomguy was rewarded with a machete stabbing through his own stomach. Growling back a scream, the marine twisted the weapon, but a second thundering blow knocked him backwards. Doomguy’s face slammed into the ground, but he didn’t let that stop him. He was up on his feet in seconds.
But Jason was already gone.
“I didn’t see it either,” Yuuka groaned from a few feet away.
Between the two combatants, the killers severed arm—and the weapon at the end of it—remained.
28 Contestants Remain
Yuuka has been scalded alongside her torso (Minor Injury)
Doomguy as a deep stab wound (Minor Injury)
Jason Voorhees has lost an arm (lol like he gives a fuck)
The Proto Buster there is for whoever wants it
All participants are on cooldown (protected from another F2F) for 8 hours or unless they move from their present square. This protection can also be waived by letting me know via PMs.
Face to Face
#16 Aku vs #06 Ashe-0 & #07 Roy Mustang vs #25 Pecan
For some reason, Ashe-0 and Roy Mustang found themselves back in the streets of File City.
“I insist in my statement that the likelihood of us finding the others still here is close to zero.”
Roy shook his head. “Don’t tell me the odds,” he muttered quietly as the pair passed by the remains of the partially collapsed gym. “I’m sure that we’ll at least find something to go off.”
“You mother fuckers only gonna find death here,” Pecan shouted from behind the twosome.
“That is the voice of constant number twenty-five, Pecan.” Ashe-0 stated.
“I see him,” Roy replied, unaware that dark shadows lurked in the building across from the gym. “I wasn’t able to find the mouse… he was too quick for me.”
Pecan lifted a hand as he shook his head. “Oh no, don’t you worry. Pecan’s gonna take his pound of flesh.”
“This is unlikely.” Ashe interjected as Roy’s attention was pulled to a glittering in a second-story window.
“No… not again!” He shouted as he broke for the structure’s door, unwilling to let someone else come crashing down on him.
“Your pal’s gone.” Pecan snickered.
“A regrettable turn of events, but I foresee no rogue variables that cannot be accounted for.”
Pecan laughed. “You’re a stone-cold bitch, but I have to tell you a secret.”
Ashe-0 tilted her head. “Proceed.”
“I’m a walkin’, talkin’ rogue variable,” and with that, Pecan tossed a spider mine at Ashe-0’s face, and before the explosion had gone off, he was already on Roy Mustang’s trail.
***
“I know you’re up here,” Roy spoke as he scanned the fifth-floor landing of the apartment building. There were six units up here, and if the officer had been correct, he had seen the figure in the front apartment. Unwilling to once again be ambushed or one-upped by someone lurking in the shadows or preying on vile opportunities, Roy kicked the door open and stepped over the threshold.
“YOU ENTER THE REALM OF AKU?” A ‘man’ with wild eyes and hair as red as flames stepped out from the bedroom of the unit. “I WAS AFRAID I WOULD HAVE TO COME TO YOU!”
Roy scooped up the end table next to the apartment’s couch and hurled it at Aku, who ducked the piece of furniture only to be tackle to the shag carpet. The military officer managed to get in a pair of vicious punches before Aku caught him with a glancing blow. The pair rolled to the left, and while Aku emerged on top, Roy got his knees up and was able to launch the demonic warrior off of him. Aku landed on the couch, haunches-first, and scowled before lunging once again.
Avoiding the retaliatory strike, Roy found himself next to the kitchen island, and his eyes moved to the knife set. Grabbing the largest one he could spot, the officer turned and saw that the vaguely humanoid monster with the booming voice was… chuckling?
“Come on,” Roy replied as he grabbed a second blade. “I may not have fire alchemy on this island, but I have no fear of you.”
“OH YOU WANT FIRE?” Aku drew in a massive breath, and when he exhaled, Roy found himself backpedaling as the flames washed over him. Gritting his teeth, Roy threw himself through the nearest window.
With Roy gone, Aku snickered as he exited into the hallway of the apartment complex. He then found himself confronted by a second meat sack. This one looked far more deranged and unstable than the military soldier who had made a flaming exodus from the kitchen. “YOU WILL LOSE TO AKU.”
“WHY ARE WE YELLING?” Pecan shouted as he rushed forward and threw the side of his bag at Aku, who managed to get out half a scoff before the fabric sack crashed into his head.
Aku felt a foot crash into his gut, and a moment later, Pecan slammed into him.
“I’VE HAD ENOUGH TOUCHING FOR THE DAY,” Aku ‘spoke’ as he sprayed a blast of flames that caused a clearly bemused Pecan to recoil.
“I need to get me some firepower like that,” Pecan replied as he swung and missed. The man’s fist crashed into the elevator’s call button. Lurching away from the metal doors, Aku tried to grab for the dark-haired man, but Pecan avoided the grasping hands as the elevator opened up behind the warring twosome. Throwing himself forward, his shoulder crashed into Aku, but as the demonic entity fell, he got a fistful of Pecan’s pants.
Before Pecan knew it, he had been flipped into the elevator by the wide-eyed, shouting fighter.
“TELL ME HOW THE RIDE IS!” Aku bellowed from outside the open doors as he launched a gout of flames that burned through the roof of the elevator and cables.
“…fuck,” Pecan muttered as the elevator started to fall.
28 Contestants Remain
Pecan has a piece of rebar through his femur. The bleeding will be awful but eventually manageable (Major Injury)
Ashe-0 has lost one of her arms and a second one of her choice will be… finnicky (Major Injury)
Roy Mustang has (sadly and ironically) first- and second-degree burns across his torso (Minor Injury)
Aku used one application of Focus
Pecan used a spider mine
All participants are on cooldown (protected from another F2F) for 8 hours or unless they move from their present square. This protection can also be waived by letting me know via PMs.
The Toa and his ostensible ally marched through a valley of dense foliage in almost complete silence. Kopaka could appreciate that Arthur had a stoic sensibility to him, at least in regards to keeping chatter to a minimum when enemies could be anywhere. The sun had risen high into the sky at this point, and under normal circumstances, should have burned away the cool, clinging mists that lingered between the black branches. The haze refused to dissipate, however, forcing the pair to continually consult their maps.
It wasn't until early afternoon that they finally spotted the first dustings of ice and snow on the laden boughs. The air was still with cold and gloom, and the mist had taken on a biting, sinister affectation. Well...at least it had for Arthur. The cowboy blew a puff of steamy breath into his cupped hands and rubbed them together. He shifted the weight of his immense, shouldered weapon with a groan, and crunched a few feet through the frost to where Kopaka stood. Arthur leaned forward, peering at the Toa's inscrutable face. It was pretty hard to tell what was going through the android's head when he froze up like that.
"Somethin' the matter, partner?" Arthur said softly. He quickly scanned the bushes for any imminent threat. Kopaka's optics blinked for a moment, and his stiff torso loosened up.
"We committed a grave miscalculation. We need to turn around, now." the Toa of Ice droned. He pivoted on his heel and began marching back down the hill. Arthur shook his head softly, and called after him as he retreated.
"Hold on now, you said we had to get in the snow and here it is!" Arthur said with fatigued indignity. He gestured emphatically at the looming hillside as Kopaka turned around and stared at him coldly. At this distance, the mist scattered the blue glare of his eyes into a halo of menace, which punctuated the android's frustration.
"I know!" Kopaka snapped. He immediately caught himself, and resumed his usual, emotionless droning. "We need to find another way around."
As if on cue, the diodes on both of their collars started flashing an ominous yellow while emitting a high-pitched whine. Karl Jak's voice buzzed out of minuscule speakers in a tone that was even more snide than usual.
"Hustle your butt or lose your head contestant! This dead zone triggers in THREE hours and TWENTY. FOUR. minutes!"
Arthur lamented that fact that he didn't have any chew to spit out.
"Consarnit! Fine!" he shouted, trudging back down the hill after his ally.
_
The ensuing several hours were spent hiking through more foggy trees, blanketed by a fresh pall of silence. Here and there, birds would call from high in the trees, or bullfrog would bark. Arthur may have nearly been bored to tears if he hadn't started to harvest random berries, fiddleheads, and mushrooms that they happened upon. Kopaka took great interest in the human's foraging every time he asked to stop and collect something. The bionicle carefully observed which specimens Arthur harvested, and catalogued them for future reference.
Later in the day, as the sun began to sag behind the suffocating treetops, Kopaka finally broke the deeper silence.
"We should rest here." Kopaka said softly, pointing at a defensible looking pile of boulders. Arthur pulled up next to Kopaka and squinted at the rocky hillock. He shook his head softly.
"Naw partner, that looks like a snake saloon to me. Copperheads, I'll bet." the outlaw grunted. He looked around briefly and pointed a heavy, calloused finger at a large stand of fir trees. There was minimal ground cover around the grove. Kopaka tilted his head quizzically.
"It appears largely exposed."
Arthur tilted his head.
"Sure, but that means no one'll get the drop on us neither." the human responded. Kopaka considered this for a moment, then nodded with a soft whir.
_
About twenty minutes later, the pair had a functioning campsite with a comfortable, crackling fire. Kopaka had proposed the idea of conjuring ice, and then melting it as a source of fresh water. This turned out extremely well, and even with their very basic supplies, soon had a very serviceable refuge. The android dropped his duffel bag next to the sprightly flames for thawing, and eased his robotic bulk on to a mossy stone. Arthur put his foragings on a flat stone near the flames to roast, and hungrily cracked into the rations that Syntech had provided.
It didn't look much worse than the shit he had regularly slurped out of a can, but a few improvised recipes with fresh, woodland findings would certainly make it all the more satisfying.
"Your knowledge of survival methods is impressive." Kopaka droned as he watched the human cook. Arthur grinned softly to himself as he picked some sizzling mushrooms off of a heated rock. He cast a glance at the brightly colored sauce packets, and then glanced at Kopaka. The Toa gestured towards them with an open hand, and the human snatched two of them.
"Naww...makin' snow from thin air is impressive. This is just simple know-how I learned from my folks." Arthur said. He let out a prolonged grunt as he sat back on his haunches, removed his hat, and began to spoon through his gourmet supper. He nodded in profound satisfaction at the added taco sauce.
The two sat in silence for a long time, listening to the campfire crackle and the small, moaning sounds of the deep forest. The staccato tapping of a woodpecker broke the boggy chorus every few minutes, and it was all underscored by the persistent susurrus of frolicking branches. Lances of light broke through the mist here and there, creating kaleidoscopic patterns on the forest floor. It was all fairly glorious, and Kopaka was enjoying himself. As per usual, this made him uncomfortable. He resorted to conversation.
"Why have you come here, to this challenge, Arthur Morgan?" Kopaka said in a soft tone.
"Money." Arthur sniffed. Kopaka shot the cowboy a piercing look.
"Is that so?"
Arthur swallowed the last bite of his meal, removed his hat, and spent a moment wiping the grime from his face. He shifted against his chosen rock, and let out a deep sigh.
"Well...I mean..." he started, before faltering. His hands wheeled in the air, as if trying to drag more words from the ether. "I just....Y'know, it's..." he trailed off.
Another long moment passed. The woodpecker burrowed again.
Kopaka nodded in consolation.
"I don't know exactly why I'm here either." he said, even more softly than before. It was statement that was both practical and existential. For all of his enthusiasm about moving on from a half-remembered past, he still had not gleaned any new direction since coming here. The concepts of Duty and Purpose were nearly synonymous to him, and neither had presented themselves. Arthur stared at the android for a moment, before pursing his lips and nodding as well.
They both decided to stare at other things, and the woodpecker did not knock again.
Face to Face
#03 Mickey Mouse & #05 Gilgamesh vs #22 Mr. X
Chrome Dome and Ears.
In some alternate reality, Karl Jak didn’t have to deal with these two every time he tried to host some high-quality television. Or maybe he did? Maybe there was some parallel existence where these two ‘kings’ worked for the genuine good guys—the lovely men, women, and everything elses that worked at Syntech.
“How can either of these two call themselves kings?” Karl asked out loud to the room of staffers. None of them replied, as they knew this was just one of those moments where their boss was opting to have his monologues outside of his own brainspace. “The tall one has been lurking around in caves with castaways, and the little one met a samurai and lost his robot friend. At this rate, I should just start calling myself Emperor Karl.”
***
The twosome were still going over what had happened in the city when they ran into the boombox resting in the clearing.
“This seems out of place,” Mickey Mouse muttered.
“Well this whole island has… what was the word? ‘Digital’ themes.” Gilgamesh replied as he walked over to the black box. “Do you know what this is?”
“I think it’s a boombox… they play music!” Mickey spoke with almost too much glee as he joined the other king next to the machine. “Press the one with the triangle on it… it looks like it already has music in it.”
“This is going to end terribly.” Gilgamesh whispered beneath his breath as he pressed the ‘Play’ button on the boombox. Both mouse and man were jerked backwards by how loud the angry rapping that bellowed from the machine was.
“X GON GIVE IT YA (WHAT?)
FUCK WAITING FOR YOU TO GET IT ON YOUR OWN, X GON’ DELIVER TO YA (UH).”
Gilgamesh slapped all the buttons atop the boombox, and one of them was the magic button that made the angry stop. “What the fuck was that?” He demanded as he suddenly heard the thump of heavy boots on the forest floor behind them.
The gilded king’s companion tugged at his arm and pointed into the trees.
For a moment, Gilgamesh could only heard the thunderous footfalls, but eventually, he saw the towering dark figure thudding toward them. Face concealed beneath a fedora hat, the massive humanoid figure literally walked through a pair of trees as it stomped toward them. “Get your weapon ready!” Gilgamesh shouted as stepped up to intercept the monstrous thing. The freeze ray was closer to the mouse, and the once-King of Nippur was never one to step down from the chance to put a beast in its place.
“Bow!” Gilgamesh bellowed as he landed an errant haymaker on the side of Mr. X’s face. The thunderous blow knocked the hat from the man’s face, revealing a gray-skinned visage with zero hints of humanity. When the king swung a second time, a much larger fist closed around his own. “Release me!”
Instead, Mr. X squeezed, and Gilgamesh screamed as he felt the bones in his hand snap like tinder.
Before the silent stalker could grind the appendage into dust, a blast of freezing energy stole the strength from Mr. X. The ice spread like a wave as the mouse squeezed back on the trigger, and Mickey didn’t relent until the entire nine-foot monster was frozen solid.
Freed from the clutches of the monster, Gilgamesh took a fleeting second to coddle his ruined hand before he turned his eyes toward their attacker. “I said… BOW!” With that, he delivered two kicks that shattered both of Mr. X’s knees. The monster crashed into the ground, and despite the damage, it became clear to the twosome that the freeze ray’s effects were failing.
“We should go… I don’t trust this,” Mickey said, tugging again on Gilgamesh’s arm.
***
Karl smiled as he turned to the man in the lab coat.
“It’s time.”
The scientist nodded his head. “I’ll send word to Birkin to ready the chopper.”
28 Contestants Remain
Gilgamesh has a broken left hand (Minor Injury)
Mr. X is ????????
All participants are on cooldown (protected from another F2F) for 8 hours or unless they move from their present square. This protection can also be waived by letting me know via PMs.
The chopper, like the rest of Syntech’s fleet for this event, flew in silently and invisibly over the small clearing in the Amida Forest.
Like the last airborne vessel that had traversed the island, this one was equipped with a crew of nervous-looking men in camouflage. “Why didn’t Karl just let this guy get his Weapon from the start? I know he’s strong and all, but it seems like a great way to set it up for failure.”
“You know the boss has a reason for everything,” the other soldier shouted. “That’s why he kept this” the man lifted up the other parcel they had to drop “back at base as well. He said the scientist told him that this ‘completes the puzzle’.”
“That looks like a dead-ass corpse with his legs missing.”
“Just drop the package, MacAllister.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice, Sarge.” With that, McAllister kicked the heavy trunk out of the helicopter. A beat later, his sergeant cracked open the metal casing and dumped the slimy object onto the half-frozen back to the tyrant.
The trunk crashed into the ground a few yards removed from Mr. X, and as that dust cleared, the organism from the helicopter burrowed down into the creature’s body.
For a while, there was silence.
And then the corpse began to convulse as fresh legs erupted from the jagged stumps. Tendrils erupted from within the tyrant’s neck and snaked down his arms beneath the heavy coat. Muscles that were already large surged with biochemically enhanced fury as the once humanoid visage of Mr. X twisted as the flesh around his teeth pulled back several inches, exposing the creature’s clenched teeth as its tiny eyes snapped open.
Infused with the NE-α parasite, the tyrant sat up off the ground and threw its head back, releasing a guttural roar straight from the depths of hell. “Mmoouuusseee!”
Lurching on new legs, the beast tore the lid off the trunk and retrieved the equipment. It’s beady eyes turned to the forest as it began its pursuit.
The two Kings had gained themselves a powerful Nemesis.
There was almost a nostalgic feeling as I entered the halls of the abandoned buildings. Gunmetal grey walls, dusted with rust as they were worn down with time. Each step rang hollow upon the concrete floor, the bare walls did little to break up noise and traveled across the entire area. Only broken windows allow light through to see the ruins of once great machines rot away in the cold interior. Left to such a vast playground, my mind was already running away with battle plans: Raining attacks from up on cat walks, ambushes in tight cornered corridors, deadly brawls among barrels of toxic sludge. Rickety doors left skewed on their hinges where offices gave me plenty of places to jump from, while old pipes still filled with all manner of liquids gave a fun collection of traps to use on an unsuspecting target.
It was a good mental activity as I patrolled the factory, something to keep me sharp as I methodically revealed its secrets. I stooped over a floor safe hidden under the carpet in the manager's room, a piece of paper found in the janitor’s closet in my hands with the combination.
“Right 26, left 4, right 18…” I spoke aloud as I twisted the lock, and with a grunt the handle swung free with only a little effort. “Deeds, money, blackmail material, helloo.” I gave a little smile as I found something buried in the contents
Though nothing to the quality as finding a rocket launcher deep within the drains of the Toxic Refinery, a half bottle of bourbon was a good consolation prize.
But staying too long was now… my nerves got on edge. It was too much like the various hellholes I had fought my way out of, from Phobos to Impel Down. There was something oppressive about this place, and as a nervous itch came across my stomach and took my stuff and left.
Back across the plains, I found the fresh air more agreeable to the smell of rot and rust back there. The majestic mountain in my sight was calming, the grass that reached up to my swaying hand.
When I got further in, though, I felt something. My eyes turned back towards the mountain, as I felt as if something wicked this way came. My fist clenched, my mind turned, and then I headed towards that feeling with teeth clenched in a grin.
Finally, some action.
---
“Okay” I gave a wheeze as I wrapped my shirt around the stab wound. That could have gone better. It would have been my luck to fight something that could take a wound as well as I could, and I paid that with a nasty wound in my gut. I missed having a good med kit on me, and I’d hate to use that bottle of booze like this. “Are we good?” I asked my new, well, companion is one way to put it. I had seen her strike against the horror monster with gusto, and I had taken the opportunity to disarm him.
The fact that we were both sitting down reeling from our wounds, not killing each other, was more than I was expecting from any of the competitors.
“I think that’s evident.” She says as she held the wound at her side. Despite the fact that she was as banged up as I was, she seemed to manage a composure about it than I could. She must have been something else. “And you are?”
It's funny, Mugen thought, staring at the device in his hand. Funny how this entire life and death struggle could be reduced to blips on a map.
He could see two next to him, towards the west - he cast his eyes in that direction and wondered what they were getting up to in that massive building.
Two more to the far North - Victor and the Flame-Wench, the samurai deduced, based on what he knew about the surrounding area...unless that was Victor to the West. That drew a frown from him. These damn dots didn't have names, though, even if they had, it would've been beyond him to read them. He'd never been what one would consider literate, even by the most liberal of standards. The numbers and letters on his map, even, were beyond his level of education.
Living life as a hired thug had its benefits, but competent reading comprehension was not one of them.
Next to the swordless swordsman was the corpse of Malloki, bloody and stiffening considerably. From his open head wound there had spilled a considerable amount of blood, which the down at the heel samurai was using the same way an artist might use a pallet. He dipped his popsicle stick into the crimson puddle and used the GPS as a reference point to mark up his original map with red dots. His face wore befuddled consternation as he made his marks on the unfurled chart - like a hodge-podge of Musashi, Matisse, Henry Pelham, and Dahmer all at once...except he hadn't eaten any of Malloki.
Though, he was getting pretty hungry. A true starving artist.
Mugen finished up his map, set it out to let the 'paint' dry (since he wasn't in any imminent danger as far as his device had indicated), and fished around in his backpack for some grub. A bottled water and an MRE would make for a pleasant late lunch, he determined, and he set about meeting his needs. The meal was well received by his empty stomach - he hadn't eaten since the pre-show - and the water yet more so. The entire morning had been spent dashing about, mugging strangers, and clubbing maniacs' heads in...that was thirsty work, albeit it rewarding.
The MRE was a treat, too. The samurai had never indulged in such a thing before, and found a little bit of joy in every bite. Beef ravioli (which he ate cold), a powdered coffee (which he made using one of Malloki's water bottles - a surplus, in his mind - and also consumed cold), and a square of chocolate more delightful than he dared dream.
The raven haired young man collected up his belongings, stood up, and took a final look at the John Doe on the ground.
"I've gotta hand it to you," he japed aloud, offering the dead man a thin lipped smirk. "If you hadn't lost your head, you might've beaten me to the punch."
He poured out a splash of cold MRE coffee in honor of the dead man, and took a bow.
"I'll be here all week. Especially with this little..." he eyed the GPS, unsure of exactly what he was holding. "...map...thing."
The jungle was a deafening cacophony of insects buzzing, birds squaking, leaves rustling, all enclosed by a thick canopy that blotted out the sky and trapped the sound, amplifying it back to its source. But through all of that noise, a new sound, something somewhere between a screech and a growl, seemed out of place among the myriad noises.
Kefka trampled his way through the thick jungle, crashing through leaves and vines, his clothes dirty and his skin scratched and bleeding. He was hot, sticky with sweat, and, most vexingly, somehow stripped of his ability to simply burn the loathsome rainforest out of his way.
“I hate the jungle,” he shrieked to himself, before stepping over the edge of a precariously steep embankment. “I hate the jung-AUGH!!”
The strange pale man tumbled down the slick slope before slamming against a stone and hurtling up through the air. He broke through several branches before collapsing into an idyllic clearing, complete with a crystal clear lake on the far side.
Kefka, however, was far more concerned about his muddy clothes. He shambled to his feet, brushing himself off in a pitiful attempt to clean up. “Once I figure out how, I’m going to burn every tree in this awful forest to a cinder.”
The very first Magitek Knight, unable to even muster a fleck of magic. He shivered involuntarily, his neck and jaw spasming for a moment. An existence without access to metaphysics. No. No he had more to give.
A strange chittering sound caught his attention. Something had snuck up on him, was observing him. The fallen deity spun on his heel to observe
“A dinosaur?”
Indeed, what else could it have been? It was a slender, birdlike thing, with scales instead of feathers. It was bipedal and bore sharp claws, and rows of studded teeth. This one was young. A juvenile, obviously. It observed him with what seemed like curiosity, bobbing its head and tilting to view from different angles.
Another, almost identical lizard trotted out into the clearing to join its sibling, cooing and chittering to one another.
“What a wonderful surprise. I’ve not seen dinosaurs in some time. I’ve been so busy purifying the world, I just haven’t had time for little pretties like you,” Kefka spoke sweetly to the young raptors, squatting down and bouncing on the balls of his heels. “Come let me see you little darlings.”
The animals looked at one another, then back to Kefka, who beamed a smile back at them. They open their mouths and shrieked at him, taking aggressive postures.
His Divine Countenance crumbled into a visage of pure, pitiless disgust. “I had shown kindness, sweeties,” he said with sugary soft words, before adding with a cold, chainsaw growl, “Don’t make me regret it.”
The braver – or brasher – of the two raptors charged at Kefka, but he’d been ready. Even hobbled by the collar around his neck, he sidestepped the inexperienced young predator, while at the same time swinging his straight arm round like a pendulum, slamming his forearm across the dinosaur’s windpipe, crushing it with the creature’s own momentum.
It crumpled to the ground and thrashed about in silent desperation, unable to call out or take a breath. Kefka looked to the other raptor, which appeared to be resigned to observing the situation.
“Not going to avenge your sibling?” Kefka strode toward the remaining dino, who lowered its head and cautiously approached him. He reached out and gently pat the young dinosaur’s head. “Perhaps you’ve already learned that most painful lesson; life and death…”
He turned to watch the dying velociraptor, scratching the survivor’s head.
“…It doesn’t matter.”
He looked down at the prehistoric creature at his side.
“I suppose I’ll call you Cain, since your brother’s decided to play the role of Abel,” Kefka decided, as ‘Abel’ finally stopped thrashing and laid still, apart from the occasional twitch.
He snorted, before letting loose with a whooping cackle, streaming tears at his own joke.
“Oh, I do so love a good joke, Cain, I do. Feel free to chime in with one if you have one. It might take my mind off how horrible this place is. And that may prevent me from butchering you in a blind rage, you sweet little dinosaur.”
Kefka cooed at Cain even as he bent down to scoop up Abel, throwing him over his shoulder. “Your brother will make delicious eating once we’ve roasted him over an open fire. You’ll get a meal in your belly and gain the knowledge that you’ll carry a piece of him with you everywhere.”
Kefka tilted his head at the dino and laughed again. “Also, making you eat your brother; I mean, that’s just good-fashioned humor, isn’t it?”
Gilgamesh muttered various curses beneath his breath as he cradled his broken fist in his hand. From behind him, he heard the terrifying roar, “Mouuuuuuuuuuuuse.” Gilgamesh looked down at Mickey, his small frame shivering in fear from whatever that ‘abomination’ would do to him.
Yet still, the Mouse King stayed courageous. He continued to pull on Gil’s arm, repeating over and over, “It’s going to be okay, pal. There’s no place like home.” While Mickey was focused on surviving, the King of Heroes just had the taste of defeat. Again. He was here at the Abyss, again, and he was fleeing for his life, again. How could he gain respect, if, at the end of the day, he were to run like a coward? With his good hand, he reached behind the mouse’s back and snatched the Freeze-Ray. He then stopped in his tracks, the Mouse’s hand slipped from his forearm as he continued to run past. Mickey turned back, confusion spread across his face.
“What are you doing, Gilly?” the young Mouse King quivered. “We gotta get out of here,” he motioned to leave. “I’m not leaving you behind,” he said. This last sentence, however, made Gilgamesh feel happy and full of hope. So that’s why Gilgamesh pointed the stolen freeze-ray and shot at the mouse’s feet. Mickey’s lower body was completely encapsulated in ice and he cried out in frustration. “Betraying me, Gil? I thought you were better than that!”
“Kings do not retreat, Mickey,” Gilgamesh spoke calmly, slowly approaching the Mouse King. Mickey outstretched his hand, tugging at the freeze-ray, but Gilgamesh would not fall for it again. He fired a blast and created a chunk of ice, where Mickey’s hand was. While the diminutive mouse was busy slamming his frozen hand against his even more frozen legs, Gilgamesh yanked the sci-fi capsule from Mickey’s duffel bag. The Mouse’s face went pale.
“No,” Mickey cried out, a few tears welling in his eyes. “You can’t! That thing...it changes you.”
Gilgamesh chuckled, “I doubt it could be much worse than the mark of Diablo.” He tilted the green sludge to see it slide around its container like a lava lamp. He cracked it open, the green tendrils peeking out, finally free from its cage.
“Gil, you promised. Pals don’t break promises,” Mickey pleaded, finally beginning to crack the icy tomb that surrounded his legs. “Especially Kings of Pals.”
“I’m still a King, mouse. I cannot allow that abomination to take another breath,” Gilgamesh seethed through his teeth. He then quickly poured the container down his throat. The sludge tasted like viscous, cheap swill. He could feel his body changing, the thing melding itself with him. He felt the many years of pent up anger stir in him, all at once.
Mickey Mouse watched helplessly as his longtime rival, who he’d just begun to trust, stalked away to face the monster pursuing them.
“Come back here, you filthy cur. When I am through with you, your bones will be nothing but dust!”
Suwako woke back up with a groan that was usually reserved for a bad hangover where half the night would forever be a mystery. The ‘easter egg’, it turned out, was an utter mistake to go after.
Suwako looked to her leg and grimaced, seeing the condition it had been left in. Suwako went to move a hand, and the fracture sent a jolt of agony through her body even with that little movement.
“Shit… that bastard” Suwako grimaced. She still remembered the mocking chuckle, the look of expectation, the confidence when facing her down…
And the sheer agony of another human modernization leaving her a mess.
Suwako growled out of pain, out of anger, out of hatred, as she formed the earth around her injury. Staggering to her feet took a moment, and as it did, the little goddess’s face contorted. “That bastard… I’ll rip his eyeballs out of his sockets and leave him toothless and bleeding from the gums, then chuck his worthless carcass in the ocean for the gangrene to set in!” The Goddess spat, as she limped forward to a nearby set of branches. Suwako didn’t have the strength at the moment to chop wood properly, but a few well-formed guillotines of solid stone made short work of the trees above. Spikes shot out of the earth beneath her to dethrone the vegetation and save the Earth goddess the trouble of digging them out herself, and ramps were formed and unformed within the earth to move the materials that much closer to herself. A little showy, but Suwako wasn’t exactly in a mood to be conservative with her divine powers.
A dark look filled the girl. She’d been going soft, since meeting Okuyasu, enjoying the popcorn, having a bit of cotton candy. She needed to show these mortals what a wrathful god looked like.
It only took a few moments for her to finish tying the splint, and her mood only served to darken as she did so. “How long has it been… since I’d met a human with the gall to break my leg. And how long has it been since I’d ever left someone with that gall unpunished?”
Suwako gave a cold, mirthful laugh, as she looked to the sky and licked her lips with an oversized tongue. “Whoever you are… I’m going to make sure you’re filled with so much fear before you leave this island that you’ll forever shrink away from the gaze of a god.”
Gilgamesh left behind the protesting Mickey. The Mouse always spoke about being a King, but even now, after all these years, he would never truly understand what it meant to be the King.
The once-King of Nippur stalked back through Amida Forest as he felt a swill in his gut.
Work your fel magic, monster. Do you worst, for I have known the truest depths of despair, deceit, and darkness.
And two-thirds of that was just through his working relationship with Victor Wolfe!
It took him a few minutes to locate the clearing, but when he did, there was no sign of the foul, legless behemoth who had been screaming for blood. Instead, there was what seemed to be an empty metal cargo box. Near the center of the clearing, the boombox had fallen onto its face amid some sort of scene that had unfolded after the departure of the two kings.
Making his way to the musical box, the crop-topped king crouched down and righted the position of the plastic machine. His index finger traced the controls, and he found the one the mouse had described as the activation switch. Thumbing it, Gilgamesh winced once at the loud, angry ‘music’ and returned to a standing position. With his eyes squeezed shut, he bobbed his head as the rage-induced rhythm washed over him. As he drifted along with the thunderous beat, the king noted the staccato thunderfalls of an approaching monster.
Snapping his eyes open, Gilgamesh turned and watched as—for the second time this afternoon—a tyrant stepped out of the woods to confront him. At first glance, it seemed like something entirely new, but only the gilded monarch would know the reason why the creature’s trench coat and heavy black pants terminated just above its knees.
“You got uglier,” Gilgamesh replied as he shook his broken hand to try and will some more feeling into it. In the back of his head, he found himself cursing the mouse and his idiotic tales of some deeper malevolence in the glass jar. Had it really been the mouse who had done the betraying? “Time for you to bow once more to your king.”
The Nemesis sneered a lipless sneer as it broke into a run at the bald warrior. Gilgamesh threw away his survival bag to reveal the stolen lightsaber in his hand, but as he went to activate the weapon, his would-be pursuer came to an abrupt halt—
And then it pulled out a flamethrower from behind its massive back.
The flames washed over Gilgamesh, who could only scream in horror as his flesh boiled and hissed like overcooked soup atop his bones. In a shining example that sometimes his bravado and bluster was wholly substantiated, the displaced king remained standing until the beast let its weapon sag to its wayside.
“I am… I am a king,” Gilgamesh rasped as his knees finally buckled. As they did, he felt a fresh wave of nausea, likely coinciding with the fact that his face more closely resembled an overcooked marshmallow than anything else. A knot formed in the king’s stomach, and then that note was rolling up his esophagus.
Falling forward to his elbows, Gilgamesh retched through his barbecued lips and out emerged the writhing symbiotic mass. Tendrils of slimy, living tissue whipped out as the blob latched itself onto the king’s blackened cranium. A blanket of black-and-green organic matter cascaded down the man’s battered body, melding around what remained of his golden armor and seeping into every atom of his existence.
Gilgamesh lifted his broken hand and watched with sick amusement as the orgo-synth snapped his fingers back into their rightful places before washing over his inferior flesh. Fresh, alien thoughts began to swirl in his mind as the living suit mended his charbroiled visage, but even as it worked, he could sense the nefarious thoughts seeding themselves in his mind.
He ignored them.
He was powerful.
Too powerful.
The opaque layer of tissue that had cocooned the king’s face peeled away to reveal the fully healed face of a the once-and-future king. The fact that he was bald was lost on Gilgamesh, who felt something raging through his system that he hadn’t felt in years.
“Where were we?” He growled as the matter poured back over his face, leaving behind a sinister set of insect-like eyes and transforming his mouth into something even more feral and monstrous than that of the Nemesis.
The pursuer snarled as it lifted the flamethrower for another round, but unlike before, it wasn’t pitted against a hollowed-out King of Heroes.
Malefactor-Gilgamesh was fast. Too fast for the sluggish tyrant, who could only recoil as an explosive pain radiated from its wrist. Looking down, it saw that its flamethrower hand had been severed by a blade forged from the organic material of the orgo-synth.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” The transformed king spoke through his monster mouth in a voice that was his but at the same time something completely new. “I wonder how it will feel here, eh?” The transformed monarch dodged a retaliatory attack and buried the organic blade into the spine of the Nemesis. With his free hand, he grabbed the monster by one of its shoulders and yanked it back further onto the weapon.
Gurgling noises escaped the monster as was lifted up off the ground.
“Bend the knee!” Malefactor-Gilgamesh hissed as he brought the spine of the monster down on his ankle. There was a satisfying, nigh orgasmic snapping noise before the tyrant fell still at his feet. “Everyone shall kneel!” The king screamed as he reached out a hand. Tendrils from the suit snaked forward, wrapping around the flamethrower before dragging the weapon into its lord’s eager hands. The suit spread out over the weapon, fusing it to the base of the orgo-synth’s arm.
“Now then,” Gilgamesh growled as the face of the symbiote peeled away to reveal his own. “That wasn’t so…” His eyes narrowed. A beat later, he began to grind his teeth together. “N-no! I won’t… I am … I control!” With a final scream, Gilgamesh’s head snapped back as the Malefactor’s visage slipped back in place over his own. No matter. The fusion of man and orgo-synth was his destiny. His truest form.
He was the King of Kings.
There could be no rival claimants.
Throwing back his fanged maw, Malefactor-Gilgamesh let out a single scream before charging back into the trees: “Mmooouuuussssee!”
28 Contestants Remain
Malefactor-Gilgamesh has used one application of Focus, healing Gilgamesh of all his injuries sustained from Nemesis/Mr. X
Nemesis has lost a hand (these fucking things are rough to keep onto) and suffered a broken knee, fractured pelvis, and a dislocated shoulder (an Insane Injury, with the Hand as the centerpiece)
Malefactor-Gilgamesh has the Flamethrower
Gilgamesh failed his saving throw (rolled 18), he may try again in 24 OOC hours
All participants are on cooldown (protected from another F2F) for 8 hours or unless they move from their present square. This protection can also be waived by letting me know via PMs.
