Day 2, Phase 2

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The Man in Red

malignant masked misanthrope
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Day 2, Phase 2
Morning Phase: 0600 to 1200​


”And with the rising of the sun, a new day dawns in full. Good morning, contestants! I hope some of you managed to get some rest during the night; I suspect you will need it soon enough. Let us take a moment to bid farewell, to those who have died…

#013 Sigma
#015 Darth Vader

They shall be missed, I’m quite sure.”

“The Easter Egg we promised in the last phase will be arriving on the island any moment now; I hope you’re all prepared!”

“And as always, the Danger Zones from the last phase are now live! Next phase, the following ones will go live as well…

L-3!
N-12!
J-13!
M-3!
H-13!
F-3!
M-12!
E-4!
N-9!
B-7!
N-11!
B-6!
N-9!
B-8!
N-10!
D-9!
C-8!
H-7!
D-8!

And before closing out, I just want to say… It does my heart so very good to see so many of you getting along out there. Teamwork is such a lovely resource! It means that this particular Easter Egg dropping will be that much more valuable!”



NPC Movement Updates
Mid-Boss has died…
Perfect Cell claws his way from the lake, his rage positively incandescent, as he seeks out his next foe.
Agent HUNK emerges from his shelter, carefully moving forward through the hills.
Sigma has died...
Darth Vader has died from his injuries, finally collapsing for good near to the banks of a turbulent section of river.
King has died...


Bulletins and Updates
  • The rain will begin letting up and fading partway through this phase, to be replaced by incredibly strong gusts of wind blowing over the island from the east.
 

The Man in Red

malignant masked misanthrope
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Face-off
#005 Princess Bakugo & #020 Izuku Midoriya vs #007 Bloodhound vs #012 Pathfinder & #014 Revenant vs #018 Mirage & #019 Wraith vs. #001 The Prisoner & #003 Gengar vs #008 Perfect Cell
Easter Egg: Fusion Manual​


Tucked into heavy jackets against the harsh winds blowing up on the mountaintop, the two workers for the Carnivale wearily trudged up to the lone cabin at the highest point. It was called a ‘cabin’ but it was really more like a small mansion, and one of the less dilapidated things on the island. For all intents and purposes, it was as if its inhabitants had simply left a few days ago. It was the perfect place to hide the prize for this event.

“Man, we don’t get paid enough to haul shit up mountains like this…” one of the two complained.

“It beats deliverin’ mail,” the other grumbled while fiddling with a ring of keys at the front doors.

“Yo...dude...we are delivering mail,” the first one said bluntly.

“I know, I know, just…aha, got it.” And with a scraping click, the lock opened and he kicked the front door open. “Let’s get this thing in here and vamoose before the crazies show up. I don’t wanna get axed before seeing the end of this show.”

And they hefted up the case to haul it inside, shuffling through the needless opulence of the mountaintop mansion, setting the case down in front of the fireplace on the top floor. And with a mock salute to each other, they each rolled up sleeves and tapped a button on their wrist, and fizzled out of sight with a muted pop.


* * *

The frigid air blew past the verdant carapace of Perfect Cell as he stepped from the light of the collar-induced teleport. Though his latest run-in with a contestant hadn't gone as well as he would have liked, he couldn't think of a better way to test out his new capabilities than in a large free-for-all, like this promised to be. He struck up a regal pose, arms folded over his chest, as he rested one knee atop the raised edge of the huge shack-mansion’s roof. Standing over the entryway like some pompous, green gargoyle, he watched the arrival of the others, grinning at the flashes of the collar teleportations dotting the snowy mountainside in all directions.

“The show is about to start…”

* * *

“There it is, friend! It’s gotta be in that big house just up there!” Pathfinder exuberantly exclaimed, pointing out the impossible-to-miss structure to his far less enthused ally.

“Yes..the fact that it is the only thing up here that it could be hidden in is a dead giveaway to that much.” The idea of ripping out whatever piece of hardware gave the MRVN its ability to speak was one growing increasingly hard for the simulacrum to ignore...but after this fiasco they were no doubt walking into. “Let’s go. We need to get in there.”

“The front door’s already open!” Pathfinder chirped, wasting no time in setting off down the snowy trail at a brisk pace. “Getting inside will be easy!”

“You idiot!” Revenant hissed, lurching forward to grab his ally by the head and slam him down into the powder. “If the door is open, then what does that mean?”

“That we’re being invited in by our new friends?”

”It means that someone else has already gone in!”

“Exactly!”

“...and they’re probably waiting for us with some kind of trap.”

“....oh!”

“So we should…”

“Find another way in! Like the back door!”

“I hate you...so much…”

* * *

“This mountain thing is really cramping my style…” Mirage huffed, twirling one of the swords his gear had come with in one hand. A frantic, nervous energy had built up in him over the excruciatingly long time he hadn’t been able to zip about like a fool.

“You have style?” Wraith’s tone was completely deadpan, and she didn’t even turn around to look at her partner as they crested a snowbank.

“Y’know, that hurts. It’s been almost three whole minutes since I’ve been able to swing around like the wonderful picture of freedom and joy I am, and you say something like that.” He sighed over-dramatically, swooning in place before toppling over to sprawl out in the snow. “My heart, it bleeds.”

“Not yet, it doesn’t…” His partner heaved a heavy sigh, finally turning to look at him. “Will you please take this seriously for five minutes? We’re not the only ones here.”

That got the other Legend to quickly hop up, and he scurried forward to shade his eyes with one hand, peering down at the huge building. “Holy grand lodge of the water buffalos… This a death trap or a mountaintop resort?”

“It used to be one. Now it’s the other. I count at least five others here so far...probably more coming. What should we--” Wraith was cut off by a sudden woosh beside her, as Mirage lurched through the air in a blur with a not-at-all quiet laugh. “...why do I even bother.” Rising up to stand, she drew her sword and followed at a much slower pace down the snowy hill.

Mirage, meanwhile, covered the distance in a matter of seconds and crashed through a second story window with a sound not at all unlike a coyote on a sugar high, rolling several times and springing over a bed to crash into, and through, a door leading out into a hallway. Swords in hand, he flourished them as he looked left. Then right. Then left. And then booted open the door across from him and dashed down the hallway. “Diversions, diversions…” he snickered to himself, kicking open every door he came across as he made for the stairs.

* * *

On the ground floor, a pair of gleaming red eyes peered out from under a large couch. Shortly followed by a glimmering set of pearly white teeth as Gengar came slinking out into view. “Way too easy,” he snickered, all but gliding over to a window and carefully sliding it open. “C’mon, you dork, get in here! And try not to set the place on fire!” he hissed, as the Prisoner clumsily heaved his undead frame through the window and toppled inside while his ghostly ally quickly shut and locked it again. “And no one’s the wiser. Come on, the thing we’re after is probably either up top or in the basement.”

The Prisoner pushed itself upright, quickly brushing dust and snow free from its body before chancing a look around. A quick, absent nod to Gengar affirmed their course, and in turn both of its swords were drawn. Anubis gleamed and sparkled with deadly intend, the dog-headed spirit cackling madly. Tenseiga, in the other hand, glowed with a dim blue sheen, protective energy rippling along the blade and ready to be put to use.

“C’mon. Downstairs first; less space to check.” And the due were off in a quick, mostly silent shuffle. They paused only once at the sound of breaking glass overhead, sharing a quick glance. The ghost pokemon scowled. “Ugh. Company.” And they redoubled their pace, checking doors and around corners to find the stairs leading down, if they even existed.

* * *

“Kacchan, we can’t just barge right in!” Deku pleaded with his partner. “That’s exactly what they’ll be expecting!”

“And what if it is?!” Princess Bakugo snapped back at him. Literal tongues of flame flew from her mouth as she snarled at her ever-infuriating partner. “What else are we gonna do, prance around out here like a couple of morons, find a window to sneak in through or something?!”

“N-No, but we should…”

“What we should do is hit hard and fast, so that whoever left the door open to set some kind of clever trap doesn’t know what hit them!” And with no more room or time to argue, she was off.

She didn’t so much go through the front door, as blow it to smoking cinders and make a much wider entryway, a manic gleam in her eyes. The sheer noise and thunder of it brought two other interlopers to a dead halt, squarely in view as they stared back at her, completely dumbfounded.

“....the door was open, y’know,” Gengar muttered.

The only response was a blistering hail of gunfire that mowed down everything in the room, living, non-living, and never-living alike.

The ghost pokemon yelped and dove behind his ally, who swung one sword in a wide arc and created a shimmering blue dome of energy in front of them. The flame atop the Prisoner’s head changed to an angry red color as it glared at Bakugo.

“Hey. Shit got real crazy down here real fast, huh?” Mirage spoke up, crouched down next to Gengar behind the barrier.

“Yeah. Crazy lady just blew up the front door and barged in, started shooting!” the ghost hissed, slowly reaching for his own sword.

“Man. And I thought my partner was wild,” Mirage snickered.

There was a moment of relative silence. A loose bit of glass from a bullet-shattered window fell and cracked in two on the floor.

“Who the heck are you?!” Gengar demanded, his new sword striking out at the crazy human...and cleaning slicing him in two, as he faded into grinning static.

“Yoooo. That’s all kinds of rude, man!” the same voice came from above, just a moment before a pair of boots crashed into the ghost pokemon’s dome and sent him crumpling to the floor. “Hey there. Name’s Mirage. I’m kinda the best.” He spun about to bring up both of his swords to intercept the deadly strike of Anubis as the Prisoner took offense to his sudden presence.

All the while Bakugo and Deku barged further into the mountaintop lodge, one of them against better judgement. “I’ll deal with these dumbasses,” the enraged princess shouted. “You go find the damn easter egg!” She gestured off at random further into the building, before lurching forward into the ensuing melee.

A huge explosion scattered the combatants, all five of them emerging from the smoke cloud. Mirage just looked at himself and shrugged helplessly. “Everyone’s a critic, huh?” he lamented. “Totally,” he answered himself, before they both sprinted off in differing directions. A spattering of gunfire tore one of them asunder, making the double vanish in a warbling of static, while the real deal zipped around a corner and out of sight, just as Wraith finally caught up, and clobbered the unsuspecting princess from behind.

* * *

Outside in the snow, Bloodhound crouched down beside the Warthog and slowly scanned the area. Tracks in the snow were mostly useless, hidden by the howling wind and still-falling snow. But that was only a problem for the others. They could not see. They were not a Hunter.

Tracks in the slow were plain as day.

Signs of movement within the building.

Even the number of those present.

They scanned the area, counting tracks and bodies and plotting their course.

All of the windows, doors and hatches that would allow ingress.

“Nine others already here… Four in the main room engaged in a fight. Two more splitting off from there in opposite directions. Two more creeping through the halls. One more lurking upstairs.”

They paused for a long moment to take stock of the situation, then nodded and with all the grace of a wolf on the hunt sprang forward. Down the snowy embankment with only a whisper of movement, across the flat ground, and to the walls. Flattening themselves against the wall, the Hunter crept slowly along and around the corner for several paces before crouching down and carefully brushing away the snow.

Buried under at least a foot of the slush and powder, there it was. The iron-shod doors leading into the cellar. With a heaving creak, they pulled them open and vanished down into the darkness below.

* * *

After his tactical advance away from a scene involving way too much fire, Mirage barged through a door into a large open room. It was seriously just...unnecessarily large. “This probably explains why this place looked so big. One damn room takes up half of it!” At least whoever built the place had some class; an indoor pool of all things, on a snowy mountaintop! And with the steam rising from it...it was even heated! “Yeesh, who built this place!”

“Oh, look, it’s Mirage!” There was a straining of elastic, and then a thwip sound. “Hello, friend!” One of the lights in the room exploded. “We are not going to kill you!”

”Yet,” came a much surlier voice almost immediately after.

Mirage ducked and scrambled away from the falling bits of glass, glancing across the immense pool at the strangest sight he’d seen thus far. “Oh come on...you guys are here too? They were really stretching for good talent in this one, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck, skinsuit,” Revenant growled. “Working with you for now just gives us better odds of walking out of here with whatever this ridiculous ‘easter egg’ is supposed to be.”

“Hey, I get it!” Mirage held up his hands placatingly. “If you wanna win, you gotta work with the best, right?”

“We already are working with the best!” Pathfinder announced, walking up and clapping a hand on Revenant’s shoulder. “Isn’t that right, friend?”

The lack of flesh and the all-concealing green protective suit, did nothing to prevent the clear image of a vein threatening to burst on the synthetic nightmare’s forehead. ”Yes. Of course. Sure. Whatever, he seethed. “Can we just get on with this already? Who else is here?”

“I got no idea. Just about half a dozen other crazy yahoos that I ran into back down the hall.” Mirage gestured lazily over his shoulder. “Oh and Wraith too. She was following me in, not sure if she got inside yet.”

“Oh, boy, more friends!”

“And more potential competition…”

“Well, only one of us can walk outta here with that prize, right? Buuuut we gotta make sure no one else gets it first!” Mirage smirked. “So….goin’ up!” and with a hiss of pressurized air, he let fly a cable toward the huge, vaulted ceiling and vanished from his position on the ground, flipping and sailing up to a balcony on the second level. “I’ll just go scout around up here! You two can have fun with that big whatever in the main room! See ya!” And he bolted.

“I despise that man,” Revenant groaned.

“I think he’s pretty neat too, friend!” Pathfinder agreed.

And in unison, they both hefted their respective weapons -- oversized slingshot and flesh-melting instrument of doom alike -- and stalked around the pool toward the room the other Legend had barged in from.

* * *

In the main room, the fight had turned bloody already. Blades clashed in cascades of sparks, bullets and explosions and fire had turned the room into a smoldering wreck, and no one was willing to back down.

In the center of it all, the Prisoner stood unfazed, head-flame a blazing crimson inferno as he struck out on all sides. Slicing, dicing, stabbin, blocking and kicking with reckless and wild abandon. Try as they might, the rest of the motley bunch could barely find a way to land more than a grazing blow on the undead. And worse yet, the longer the fight dragged on the better it seemed to be doing. Not tiring out or growing sluggish from the frantic pace, or from the slow buildup of scratches and wounds, but getting faster and more precise, each blow striking harder than the last.

It was looking like the fight would decisively end only one way...until things got really messy. The arrival of the synthetic duo on the scene signaled the end of the virtual stalemate, as the Bloon Solver in Revenant’s hands unleashed a torrent of its deadly sludge across the room.

Pathfinder launched his grappling hook at the ceiling, and hurled himself up there, planting on the ceiling and with a sharp thwip-thwip-thwip sent little chunks and bits of rubble and glass launching from the Kabuto, shattering lights and windows alike to plunge the interior of the room into darkness.

In the dark, everything covered in deadly acidic sludge and glue, the fight devolved from the angry shouts and grunts of combat to the anguished howls and screams of anguish as everything began to melt.

Including the floor, which quickly gave way and went crashing down into the room below.

* * *

Bloodhound stalked through the basement warily. Their eyes were only partially blinded by the utter darkness, senses sharpened and rendered in grayscale. But the lurching, screaming forms of their foes on the levels above shone through clear as day in the color of blood.

They crept along, around all manner of detritus and junk collected over a long life of far too much wealth and crammed into the basement. They only paused when something dripped from above. Viscous and thick, it hit a box near to them -- and started hissing and steaming, angrily tearing and dissolving through it in a matter of seconds, until it was naught but a bubbling mess of sludge.

“What in the name of…” They were cut off as the floor above groaned and creaked, more of the disgusting sludge pouring through before it all caved way and fell in with a deafening crash.

A cacophony of cursing and indecipherable yelling rose up from the aftermath. Four targets, all in one place…

Bloodhound’s hand slowly crept to their belt, and plucked the second prize they had been given. A soft click as they pulled the pin, a quick whispered prayer to the Allfather...and then they tossed it.

It clattered, rattled, and rolled among the rubble before coming to a stop. The Holy Hand Grenade shone with a brilliant golden hue, and let out a triumphant cry of Hallelujah!” before the world within the lodge went white.

* * *

The entire lodge erupted in an impossibly huge fireball. Toward the sky, the towering pillar of fire reached, forming the image of a massive cross of nuclear flame, visible across the entire island. A heavenly chorus sang out over the deafening rumble of the blast wave, before being swiftly drowned out in the aftermath of collapsing rubble and debris and the very mountain itself shuddering from the blast.

From the wreckage, several bodies slowly began to haul themselves out. All heavily battered and wearied from the blast, some obviously more than others.

Perfect Cell, having been holed up on the top floor, was the first to extricate himself and heave his body back to the relative safety of the snow. Clutched in one hand was the armored briefcase he had extracted from the sturdy trunk upstairs. “Even resorting to tricks like that...it wasn’t enough to take down someone who has achieved Perfection.”

“Perfection is one thing…” The suffocating pressure on his windpipe put off further posturing, as a form materialized out of shadow behind him. “...but you know what’s even better than that?” The straining of tightly woven yarn being stretched taut nearly to breaking could be heard. ”Friendship.” The synthetic nightmare squeezed the friendship lanyard his insufferable partner had woven for him tight around the bio-android’s throat.

“G-Gh...ghk…! G-Get….ooooff!” Cell’s body was shrouded in a deep violet glow, as his free hand groped and pawed for one of his weapons. He couldn’t afford to blow the entire mountain top again; he was almost positive he’d lose his prize in the ensuing avalanche. But if he didn’t…!

From within the rubble, a blinding glow of red light erupted -- and then a huge chunk of it exploded outward, along with a humanoid figure flipping nimbly through the air. Landing on a charred but miraculously still-standing support beam, an uproarious laugh sounded out. “Brace yourselves, ladies, gentleman, robots and assorted other lifeforms!” a voice called out as the figure rose up, brandishing a sword in one hand and a flashing pistol of red in the other. “‘Cause you are about to see some real extra-special shit tonight!” Twin cables launched out from his waist, striking the snow and then the ground beneath it, on either side of Cell.

“Best mind your head, tall dark and murder-y! It’s hero time!” The cables snapped taut and sent the red-clad form of Mirage through the air like a bullet. “And hero time don’t wait for anybody!”

The simulacrum scowled, regretfully releasing his deathgrip on the impromptu garrote and diving aside as the other Legend struck, the sword in one hand carving a flashing trail of red clean through Cell’s arm. A gratuitous shower of sparks and explosions erupted, sending the bio-fiend spinning haplessly through the air -- and sending his arm, still clutching the case, spinning in an entirely different direction.

As it crashed down, a ghostly form lurched out of the snow, grasping the case in one hand. “Gyehehehe….thanks, chump! Mine now!” Gengar cheered.

“Not...so...fast…” Hauling herself out of the rubble, Wraith glared at the ghost pokemon from under the armored helmet. Scorched, blackened, dented and damaged, the armor had nonetheless weathered the worst of the blast, it seemed. Enough that the Legend could still launch herself into motion, crashing through the debris in her path like a bulldozer, sword raised and ready to cleave the ghost in two.

“N-Not...that...easy…!” A voice wheezed out, before the entire foundation of what was left of the lodge was blown away with another ground-shaking explosion. In the epicenter of the blast, Princess Bakugo stood. Arms trembling and blooding, clawed fingernails cracked and splintered, one horn broken off halfway, and one eye shut and covered in blood. But she stood, shaking violently from some mixture of adrenaline-numbed pain and shock, and pure unadulterated fury. “You’re not walking away...with that!”

As if to protest that statement, the Prisoner came surging out of the rubble with a renewed vigor. One quick, lunging strike with Tenseiga, and...an almost comical pop sent Bakugo out of sight, vanished without a trace. With only a light wilting to its posture, the undead threw itself into pursuit of Wraith, both swords at the ready.

A loud twanging sound of metal heralded the sudden arrival of Pathfinder, as he came sailing up over a tree, and then down...right into the sprinting form of the Prisoner, sending them both down in a heap. “Not so fast, friend! You’re not getting it either!”

Gengar chuckled, turning to start dashing away, and whipping out the blade he had been gifted with. “Time for a quick retreat!” With a quick flourish, he brought the whistle in the fancy tassel up to his lips and blew a sharp note.

The downpouring snow faded immediately with the shrill whistling noise. In its place, glittering pink petals began to drift on the wind. The howling of a wolf sounded, as the imposing form of Yojimbo crested a snow-capped hill, looking over the chaos below. After a moment of contemplation, the legendary ronin held one hand out...and the ground before them split wide with a fissure spewing black and purple flames. Out from the crevice in the ground came soaring its most legendary blade.

Drawing the blade, nearly as long as its master was tall, the ronin took a moment to take in the sight. The eerie, bluish-purple sheen of the blade reflected the stars in the sky, even through the clouds covering it, as well as the face of its master. With only a single look down to Daigoro, the ronin took the blade in both hands and charged down the hill. Past Gengar, who had summoned it, and into the fray.

A single stroke of the mighty blade was all it needed...to split the entire battlefield in two. Snow and rubble cleanly bisected as if a still image neatly sliced in half and plucked apart. The combatants in the fray were similarly bisected, clean lines of vivid purple running through their bodies.

For a single moment, the world stood still, as cherry blossoms delicately wafted down from the skies…

...and then time resumed. The entire mountain heaved as it shifted on its newly-cloven surface, turning the summit into a quaking and unsettled mess. The combatants all felt their new wounds only moments after they began to spray blood, or other assorted fluids, all over the snow. Surgically clean, and impossibly precise, there would be no staunching the blood flow from them.

Its job done, Yojimbo vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Gengar used the chance to quickly make his escape, before being confronted by the battered, one-armed form of Cell. His eyes were bloodshot, and his remaining arm clutched the Green Dragon with a death grip. “Put down...my prize...you little shit…” he hissed, teeth stained with his own purple blood.

“Don’t think I will, chump.” Gengar held out his sword point first toward the bio-android. “Why don’t ya come and take it, huh?”

“Okay you little pissant…” With a whirling motion, Cell raised the Green Dragon overhead as it began to glow a bright shade of red. “Come on you stupid relic, let’s see what you’ve got!” The mad beast’s eyes lit up as his scowl turned to a grin. Drawing back the weapon, he lunged forward, with an echoing cry. “Green Dragon, Roar!” And he struck.

The mountain rocked with another explosion, as the silhouette of the legendary bearded warrior himself suffused Cell, lending the strike an earth-rending force. The case containing the Easter Egg was sent tumbling through the air, sparkling and gleaming in the first rays of the rising sun.

“You won’t...get it…!” Flying through the air, one arm flailing limply at his side and the other only barely clutching onto a half-eaten mushroom, Izuku Midoriya launched out of chaos. He grabbed the briefcase in his still usable arm and went tumbling down into the snow, coughing and sputtering weakly. Pain was rendering him nearly insensate, but he was too stubborn to let that stop him.

Cell slowly stalked up toward him, spitting out a mouthful of his own blood. “Game’s up, kid...hand it over or you’re dead.”

“N-Not...on my...life!” Midoriya managed, slowly bringing the remaining mushroom half up and biting into it, scarfing down the surprisingly tasteless thing in quick order.

“Your funeral, brat.” And the bio-android raised the glaive overhead to deliver the execution blow.

It never came.

Back at the lodge, all those present would hear was an echoing cry of ”SMAAAAAASH!” before they saw Cell’s broken, battered frame come crashing into the rubble like a missile, eyes completely whited out.

And then Izuku Midoriya dashed away unsteadily. Both arms hanging limp and uselessly, tears running down his face, but the briefcase clutched in his teeth by the handle. “Kacchan...we did it…”


16 Contestants Remain

Izuku Midoriya has used one application of Focus.
Bloodhound has used one application of Focus to emulate their Beast of the Hunt ability.
Revenant has used one application of Focus to utilize Death Totem.
Pathfinder has used one application of Focus to supercharge his grappling hook and zipline.
Wraith has used one application of Focus.
The Prisoner has used one application of Focus.
Gengar has used one application of Focus.
Perfect Cell has used one application of Focus.


Bloodhound has used the Holy Hand Grenade.
Mirage has used the Power of Red.
Gengar has used Yojimbo. (Rolled 100)
The Prisoner has used one of Tenseiga’s abilities.
Perfect Cell has used the Green Dragon.
Izuku Midoriya has used the Super Mushroom.

Princess Bakugo has suffered extensive injuries from the blast of the Holy Hand Grenade (Major Injury), and from the collapse of the lodge (Minor Injury), and been banished back to her pre-EE location by the Tenseiga.
Izuku Midoriya has suffered extensive injuries from the blast of the Holy Hand Grenade (Major Injury) and had his previously broken arm completely shattered (Major Injury upgraded to Insane) in order to fend off Cell.
Bloodhound has suffered injuries from the collapse of the lodge and being buried in rubble (Minor Injury), and suffered a grievous bone-deep gash along their entire front side from Yojimbo’s Zanmato (Major Injury).
Pathfinder has suffered damage from being caught in the building collapse (Minor Injury) and suffered the severe impairment of one arm and a huge gash in his torso from Yojimbo’s Zanmato (Major Injury all together)
Revenant managed to avoid serious injury in the building collapse by clever use of nightmare acid and crazy shadow powers, but suffered a serious blow along his entire backside, from one ankle to opposite shoulder (Major Injury) from Yojimbo’s Zanmato.
Mirage suffered great harm in the collapse of the building (Major Injury), but was protected from the worst of Yojimbo’s attack by his all-encompassing Shield of Ham (Red Edition), suffering only a minor cut to his chest (Story Injury).
Wraith suffered extremely grievous damage from the point-blank blast of the Holy Hand Grenade, though her armor absorbed most of the blast (Mortal Injury reduced to Insane), but suffered greatly in the collapse of the building (Major Injury).
The Prisoner used Tenseiga’s ability to blunt the damage it suffered from the blast of the Holy Hand Grenade (Minor Injury), and in combination with Anubis managed to escape the building collapse with only a few additional bruises and splinters (Story Injury).
Through clever use of his phasing powers, Gengar managed to avoid the worst of the damage from the collapsing building (Minor Injury).
Perfect Cell suffered in the building collapse, being impaled by a chunk of timber (Minor Injury), and then being nearly choked out by Revenant (Minor Injury). He suffered the loss of his right arm courtesy of Mirage (Insane Injury) and finally had his chest caved in by Midoriya’s Super Mushroom powered attack (Major Injury).

Izuku Midoriya (and, by extension, Princess Bakugo, have ‘won’ the Easter Egg. PM with details on that will be coming shortly.
 
Last edited:

The Man in Red

malignant masked misanthrope
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Face-off
#018 Mirage & #019 Wraith vs #011 Dr. Caustic​


”Well, well, well, Doctor… It seems like you’re about to run into some very interesting competitors. I believe you should know about their abilities well enough on your own already… Mirage and Wraith?”

For a moment, Caustic stopped in his tracks. Just for a moment, long enough for his eyes to narrow and for him to suck in a breath. Then he forged on. To encounter other Apex Legends here was…curious, but little else. That an event like this had attracted more of them was hardly a surprise.

”A small settlement just up ahead, Doctor. I believe you will find there is...more than sufficient territory and supplies to suit one of your capabilities.”

The radio went dead as Caustic crested a hill and beheld the small settlement which had been mentioned. A small thing indeed, with only a few large buildings to give it any features of note. Not the ideal place for an ambush by any means, but…

He patted the weight of the C-Finder on his hip, and slowly drew the grip of the Vampire Killer into hand. He was armed now, with two very effective weapons. And that made him very, very dangerous.

* * *

Within the tiny town below, Mirage and Wraith reacted very differently to the aftermath of the battle atop the snowy mountain. One of them was exuberant, and couldn’t get enough of the stunning displays of acrobatics and near slow-motion feats of physical adeptness he could now pull off. The other one was struggling to remind herself how to breathe in the superheated, scorched shell that had once been a suit of very serviceable armor.

“Woo! Man that was great! I know we lost, but did you see me up there?!” Mirage was all manic energy as he struck a pose. “I was just…” And he made several energetic sounds, flipping and cartwheeling about like a sugar-charged child.

“Yeah...great...super…” Wraith wheezed, struggling to rip the blackened helmet of her armor free. She gasped with relief when she felt the much cooler air on her skin, and collapsed into a heap onto her back. “I just can’t believe I’m alive… This thing looks like a tin can, but...guess it’s sturdy…”

“Not as sturdy as this!” Her partner merely flexed, as two illusory duplicates struck a pose to either side of him, calling all attention to him. “Haha...man. It sucks we lost though.”

“Yeah...just have to do better…” Wraith tried to force herself back upright, struggling against the mangled remnants of the sun-branded armor. “Gimme a hand here, will ya…”

”Gladly.” A shadow loomed over her mostly prone form, and a chemical-laden glove clamped down over Wraith’s face, smothering and silencing her feeble attempts at protest. The chain whip in Caustic’s other hand snaked out, tightening around her already burned throat, and quickly retracted, cinching its links together in an action not unlike a constricting snake. ”Quiet, woman,” the scientist hissed, quickly delivering an elbow strike with much of his weight behind it into her chest, and tugging on the handle of the whip.

There was a light cracking sound, and Wraith’s body jerked, spasming as she gave a few last attempts to pry the noxious scientist off...then the fight slowly bled out of her and she went still.

With a whisper of the chain links sliding through the grass, Caustic withdrew and fully recoiled the Vampire Killer, grinning under his mangled respirator as he rose and tried to skulk back off into the shadow of the buildings...only to run squarely into one of Mirage’s duplicates.

“Not cool, man. Not cool at all.”

The doctor’s expression of pride switched instantly to one of icy fury as he lashed out with the whip again, tearing through the doppelganger before whirling around to face the real deal.

But he was gone.

“Avast, foul villain! Your poison will never do its work against me; for I am a hero who fights with the power of [iRED[/i]!” Mirage’s voice bellowed, drawing his foe’s eyes skyward.

“What in the name of…” He only now registered the ridiculous getup that the other Legend was wearing. Bright red, accented in while and black and gold...like something out of a ridiculous children’s show.

As he came crashing down though, fist-first, into Caustic’s jaw all thoughts of its ridiculousness vanished in a cloud of red-lit pain that lanced through his skull. He staggered back, growling as he spat out a tooth and struck out with the whip.

Mirage was everywhere, the heightened strength and agility of his ham-empowered state fueling his airborne acrobatics as he flipped and twirled and leaped from rooftop to tree to rooftop, and slung himself to and fro with the maneuver gear. It was a dizzying blur of motion to try and keep up with, and every time he struck a blow it was a decisive one, sending the good doctor reeling and making him see stars.

Wraith coughed and sputtered on the ground, her eyes fluttering open as she gasped and spit up a messy burble of blood.

Mirage blinked. “Wraith?!” And he missed a step, catching his footing on a loose ceiling tile.

The half-second of distraction was all Caustic needed to beat a hasty retreat, vanishing into the windswept dawn.


16 Contestants Remain

Wraith has suffered several broken ribs (Major Injury), as well as a shattered neck and windpipe (Mortal Injury).
Mirage has suffered serious damage to his pride and emotions (Story Injury) as well as a few minor scrapes as he tumbled down from the rooftop (Story Injury)
Caustic has suffered several broken/lost teeth (Minor Injury), a cracked rib (Minor Injury), and a fractured left leg (Minor Injury).
 
Last edited:

Beatrix III

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Wraith opened her eyes suddenly; her breathing being interrupting by the violent retching of blood. It bubbled up from her lungs and flowed from her mouth onto the ground below her. She clawed at her armor, its’ tight fit around her neck causing pain, alerting her to the injuries hidden beneath her skin.

“I think my neck might be broken, Elliot. Get the gear bag.”

Wraith did not care about how damaged she was. All she saw or thought about was the path forward to fixing the various problems that now afflicted her body. With a sickening pop and a swift tug, she popped her left arm back into its socket. Rolling onto her stomach she spied a tree close enough to reach.

“Elliot grab my hand and drag me over to that tree.” Wraith sputtered through battered throat.

Mirage was more than happy to accommodate his friend, the gear bag slung over his shoulder. Taking her hand, he dragged over to the tree that she had mentioned and sat her up, unzipping the gear bag. A trail of blood had been left behind from where she had been previously. Wraith kept her head against the wooden support plant trying to keep her neck as straight as possible.

Fuck

Everything hurt. Unclasping the chest plate to the armor she pulled it up over her head as carefully as she could before tossing it into a pile next to the gear bag.

“Take the armor Elliot…and the computer. You and I both know I’m dead weight now.”

“C’mon don’t talk like that. I’m sure there’s something in this bag that could help.” He said while pilfering through the rations and supplies.

Alas there was no major medical supplies.

“I’m sorry, Rene.” Mirage said, a somber tone in his voice.

Wraith took the computer from the bag and pushed it into Mirage’s hands, her eyes darting to the armor, unable to move her neck. The void specialist coughed, blood spraying from her mouth. She placed a hand to her face and cleaned away the coagulating mess and tossed it aside. She must be bleeding internally. A rib must have punctured something it was not supposed to, or the blunt force of the explosion might have caused bleeding from something.

“This isn’t how I saw this ending, Elliot, but we’re here and you need to go and win.” Wraith said with a smirk.

She laughed as best as a shattered warrior could and with a bloody smile she said, “Go be the biggest ham in the world. Take the armor and the computer and go give someone a real bad day.”

I was too slow.
 
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Stiff winds battered the mountain range, sheets of white snow cascading from the east like ocean waves. Such weather was a death sentence for any living creature, and even the small white hares and hardy goats which made the highlands their home had made their ways home to shelter from the frigid air. And yet, two beings were out in this Hell of ice, making their way up towards the peak where, even in the wind, a small plume of smoke yet lingered. After all, neither of them had been alive for quite some time.

Though initially irritated over yet another failing, Gengar had quickly returned to his usual, jovial self as he settled on the knowledge that the other combatants had certainly taken a far greater beating than either himself or his friend. And though the ghostly duo no longer had a reason to ascend this peak, it seemed that both were hoping that, perhaps, the item had been left behind in all the chaos.

The Prisoner strode alongside its floating friend, its physical form having a bit more trouble in the ascent than the practically formless ghost Pokémon. Banks of snow created barriers to its path, and several especially strong gusts had threatened to topple the flame-headed being. But it continued on strictly, large eye fixated on their destination.

Anubis, for his part, seemed remarkably quiet and introspective. Perhaps he needed time to process all the information he had gained during that large brawl, or perhaps it was something else entirely. After all, his host was no longer in prime condition. Though technically still in one piece, the repeated battles were taking a toll on the undead frame, a toll that the current cold was doing little to alleviate.

As if on cue, the corpse-candle nearly fell over as the strained and torn tendons of its right arm gave up their struggle and released their burden into the snow. Its eye turned to regard the limb, flame yellow with surprise, before shifting to a dull purple as it took another step and left the snow to swiftly bury the appendage. What thoughts went through its mind were unknown, but The Prisoner had grown much since it first entered this tournament, when such a loss would have sent it into a panic.

Gengar stared curiously at his flame-headed companion, gaze shifting to the arm in the snow, before returning. "You sure you ain't gonna need that, pal?"

The Prisoner have the Pokémon a thumbs-up in response, eye curving into a sort of "n", though the steady purple of its flame belied its attempt at putting its partner at ease. Anubis, on the other hand…

"The fuck?! Hey! What'd I tell you about taking care of my st- I mean, yourself! How the hell are you gonna dual-wield me and the other guy now?! What I am supposed to do if you just fall apart on me, huh?"

With an exaggerated shrug, the undead warrior strode through Anubis' projection, its determined step continuing to lead it to the location of their latest battle, and leaving the Stand to sputter angrily (and impotently) in its wake. Gengar shrugged himself and floated along after. Soon enough, the duo stood atop the peak and surveyed the battle-ravaged area around them. The cabin had been obliterated, with barely two planks of wood still held together, and most of it still smoldering with the dying embers of the fire. Large fissures criss-crossed the land, Yojimbo's work, and even with the fresh snow, the crust of frozen blood dotted the land like a Dalmatian's back.

But, most distressing of all, the briefcase did, indeed, seem to be gone. The two undead spent a few moments digging through the wreckage, before calling it quits. Of course it wouldn't have been left behind. But hope was a strange thing, and perhaps destiny as well. Because, while they hadn't found a powerful artifact to help them survive, they had found something else. An arm.

Even as green, carapaced, and physically imposing as it was, the spooky pair had nearly missed it, but for a half-clenched hand peeking through the snowbank that had grown around it. With a sharp tug, The Prisoner pulled it free from the snow and turned it over in its hand, flame green with curiosity. Its eye turned from regarding the arm, to the stump where its old one used to be, and its flame shifted with a bright orange, eye curving upward with glee.

With the help of Tenseiga, and while enduring the childish jokings of Gengar, The Prisoner had a fine replacement for its loss, and the two continued on towards wherever their next fight lay.
 
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